Page 86 of Last Rites

I stayed low, moving from shadow to shadow. The sound of conversation carried on from the tavern beyond, and the occasional scuff of a boot drawing near the kitchen entrance made my stomach lurch. I froze at every scrape and shuffle from the other side of the wall, willing them to be nothing.

There was a small door at the rear of the room, and I made my way quickly toward it. Its iron latch was simple and would be easy to lift. My hands itched now that I was so close—eager to grasp it and throw the door wide. Instead, I paused, straining to hear. The soldiers’ voices carried faintly, muffled by the thick walls. A creaking chair closer by made my pulse spike.

There would be no better opportunity.

I lifted the latch and pushed the door open enough to slip through. Once I was outside, I rose to full height and cast a glance about. Around the building, darkness pooled beneath the eaves. My pulse kicked in my throat, but I didn’t delay.

I bolted toward the stable beside the tavern, lungs burning, legs pumping. The militia’s horses whinnied and huffed inside, hastily hitched to posts and stall bars. I scanned them quickly, judging which was the sturdiest, the fastest, the one most fit to carry me to Ashpoint, to Kit.

Memories of when I chased him from Eastcliff surged, unbidden. When I found him there in Ashpoint, he’d been grateful. He’d held me in our little cottage and wept.

I pressed a hand to my chest, willing some of that warmth to hold for me now. I could only hope he’d greet me the same way this time, though the road there would be much harder.

31

Kit

The whole way back to Ashpoint, I didn’t cry.

We arrived back at camp to find Isla bound and held by Fletcher and Matina. I did apologize to her after the Sentinels loaded us into the cart and struck camp in a hurry, though she brushed it off as unnecessary.

When she looked at me, where I’d expected tears, there were none, just smug determination. “This was my idea,” she said. “I would have done it regardless of whether or not you wanted in on it. If I have to go down, at least I did it giving the people in Forstford a fighting chance. I’ve made my peace with the gods; they can find no fault in me.”

After that, I stewed in panic and despair. Vi made sure to grind it into me for hours that we were making a hurried retreat because the militia was flooding Forstford. That they’d find Penny and Rosie and string them up like they did to every Bone Man they got their hands on. That I’d failed at absolutely everything I’d set out to do.

“Except for saving Forstford,” Isla had said with a sinister half-smile that looked more like an expression her brother would wear.

Neither of us spoke again until we crossed through the gates of Ashpoint at sunset days later and the Death Watch unloaded us from the back of the cart in front of the Ossuary.

“I don’t regret knowing you, Kit,” Isla said as we were marched through the double doors and toward the atrium. “But I’m sorry we couldn’t stop this.” Her icy eyes met mine, equal parts sad and resolute. “That much I do regret.”

I didn’t get the chance to respond before Matina and Fletcher jerked Isla toward the stairs to the left of the room, and toward the cells. Violette peeled off for the staircase on the right, heading to tell Merrick she’d done what he couldn’t and brought me back in chains. That left Klaus to urge me on to the ritual room.

Inside, he took a torch off the back wall and drew my Penny-menacing knife from his belt.

The blade had become like an extension of me, always at hand. It was supposed to be used to defend against men like Klaus—cowards hiding behind unearned authority and poised to inflict senseless pain—not be wielded by them. I may have killed with it, but it was to save Penny, to save my friends.

And yet, it couldn’t save me.

Klaus gestured to the open trapdoor. “Walk. Try anything, and I’ll stab you.”

I didn’t doubt he would.

The trip to the caverns felt endless. My eyelids were heavy from sleepless days in the cart, my shoulders screamed from having my wrists bound behind my back, and my hands alternated between numb and aching in a vicious cycle that made me wonder if there would be permanent damage.

Small blessing that I suspected I’d be dead long before that could be confirmed.

It was dusk by the time we ascended the stone steps up into the bowl of the corrie with the caverns yawning before us. The kilns were dark and cold, and there was no sign of anyone else. We were alone.

Klaus sheathed my knife and then took hold of the bindings around my wrists. They scraped against rope-burned flesh and made me hiss, but he didn’t seem to notice or care, just pushed me forward and into the largest cavern. With only the light of his torch, I had to rely on his steering to traverse the narrow passages and winding halls.

Clearly, Merrick’s efforts to clear the caves out had been successful. The air smelled damp, but the rock beneath my feet was dry. And when we reached the main cavern, the only sign of our efforts was the larger pool at the foot of the left wall fed by the tiny trickle from the ceiling.

The Vessel showed no signs of damage. Worse still, the scaffolding was gone and the grotesque construct looked complete. The last time I’d seen it, the head was missing, but it had been fitted in place since. It was shaped like a skull, though not quite human; there was no jaw or mouth, no teeth, just the vague suggestion of a nose, and two dark, vacant holes for eyes. Atop the head was a crown with a band made of human vertebrae. Finger bones, strung together with silver until they were longer than any human finger, protruded upward from the band and curved slightly back like they were beckoning me closer.

Klaus kept me moving, past the Vessel and through another passage I’d never been down before. Several twists and turns later, it dead-ended in a chamber barely large enough for the two of us to stand side by side.

Klaus set his torch into a sconce at the entrance and reached past me for a set of manacles chained to the back wall. He shoved me against the wall to the right and planted his shoulder between mine to keep me from moving while he replaced the ropes on my chafed wrists with the cold iron bands.