Page 100 of Reap & Sow

His silence was deafening. Eda fought to subdue a rush of embarrassment. Did he pity her? Think her some simpering maiden pining for her knight? Neither of them played the part well, and she refused to care if Kit did not.

Eda couldn’t expect him to place her life above his own. It didn’t make it hurt any less. “I understand. You won’t face your brother, and why would you? You’re under no obligation to protect me.” She looked away. “I was unsure if you were coming back is all.”

He was mute for a short eternity. Then, tentative, he said, “I went to Abelard as planned. He sent a courier to alert Tenelle. I followed to make sure the message found her. But the boy was turned away at the gates. The commander had already left with a contingent of Blades. I flew to the gardens at once, but the fiends and the Blades were already skirmishing. Baelion was there. I thought it best to…” He fell quiet. Brushed her cloak with a knuckle, as one might extend a hand to a jumpy dog. “I did not abandon you. I would not.”

There was no Pact binding them, and Kit’s pledge was only as strong as his inclination. But perhaps it did not matter. His being here at all is more than I could hope for.

Eda mustered a weak smile. “That ring of yours seemed to do the trick. No one knew you were there. Wish you had a spare, though. I lost my mantle.”

Kit crowded her until he was all she could see. “Tell me what happened.”

Eda recounted how the bishop had found her, mocked her, struck her. Kit’s expression devolved into a fierce, menacing look that stood her hair on end. She described how Mr. Night revealed himself and promised to give her the chance to pay off her debt.

“He said that he could smell you on me. Do all demons have such refined senses?”

At this, Kit’s nostrils flared. The air around him rippled ominously. “For the most part.”

“Is he really so strong? Is that why you won’t face him?”

“I could never defeat him growing up.” His lips thinned.

“But you’re grown now.”

“And risk my life? For what? I don’t care about the dukedom.”

Eda bit her cheek. “I suppose you’re right. Little point, if you’ve nothing worth fighting for.”

He stared at her.

Eda looked down, playing with the hem of her cloak. She was so tired. “We should head back. It’s a long walk, and your horse shape is too conspicuous.”

Kit gathered himself. “Piss on that. You look ready to drop. We’ll rest here tonight.”

She blinked and looked around. “Here?”

“Yes, right there in the gutter! Of course not, you little heathen. I’ll find us somewhere. It’s about time we had better sleeping quarters. My hair never falls right if I don’t sleep with silk pillows.”

“How brave you’ve been.”

“Quite. Come on, let’s window-shop.”

When Kit said window-shop, it turned out he meant it literally.

Eda waited on the cobbles as her demonic companion scaled walls and leaped between sloping roofs, peering without shame into windows. She wasn’t sure how he could see much through crown glass and greased paper, but when he told her with delight that a young couple was shagging in one particular room, she had to assume he saw well enough.

Eda lacked the energy to protest. Her body felt heavy on her bones, like a wet coat. Her knees ached where the bishop’s men had thrown her down. Her cheek and scalp stung. If Kit meant for them to squat in some vacant house, she was past the point of caring. Breaking and entering would just be another drop in the bucket of her misdeeds.

He dropped beside her, smug. “This will do.”

She leaned back to assess the two-storied building, all proud gables and mullioned windows. Here on the border between Cannington and neighboring Millstead, the streets were full of well-kept tradesmen’s houses and storefronts catering to wealthy patrons. Affluent but not so wide and open as the rich inner borough.

Kit had chosen the finest house on the street, unsurprisingly. It boasted a little front courtyard with honeysuckle climbing toward a wooden balcony. She allowed him to gather her in his arms and leap onto it, where he’d already forced the double doors open.

Inside, it was just as extravagant as Kit’s old apartment. Certainly less cluttered, she thought wryly. Rakeshi carpets and painted wall hangings. A hearth with cast-iron firebacks beneath a mounted boar head. An ornamental crossbow, taking pride of place beside the main door.

They were in someone’s bedchamber, she realized. Judging by the fine layer of dust over the embroidered chairs and walnut sideboard, it had been vacant for a while. “There’s really no one here?”

“No. I would have heard them. Perhaps the master of the house has taken his retinue with him to the country. It is deer season.”