Page 79 of Last Rites

She scoffed. “We’ll see about that when we find them. But you, Kitten… You and Isla will be coming with us back to Ashpoint immediately.” She leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I can’t wait to hold you down while Merrick cuts your throat like we did to Levitt. You deserve a traitor’s death just like he did.”

Bile burned in my throat, and I swallowed it back. I’d always known Merrick had killed Levitt, but to know that my old friend’s own twin had restrained him…

Klaus jerked me forward. “Time to go.”

Neither Sentinel said another word as they dragged me out of town. They didn’t seem in too great a hurry until we were almost at the tree line and Klaus glanced over his shoulder at the sound of some sort of commotion far behind us. He jerked his head toward camp, and Vi nodded understanding as they quickened their pace. But when I tried to look back, Vi fisted her hand in the hair at the back of my head to keep me facing forward.

“Move,” she growled.

As the woods closed in around us, a pit yawned in my gut, and it grew and grew until I was sure it would swallow me whole. Because the militia were coming to Forstford, and if the Sentinels didn’t find Penny, the soldiers surely would. They could kill him, and I would have no idea.

Would my soul feel his leave this world?

I knew my heart would, because if he died, that part of me would die with him.

And then there was Ben. I clung to the hope that he got the last people out of town safely. That the Sentinels wouldn’t find him before he could get to safety, too.

That if Penny lived, he would forgive me for getting myself caught to keep him safe.

29

Penny

Iwoke to Rosie’s shake and rough whisper, followed by a point at the empty bedroll next to mine.

Kit was gone. He’d forbidden us from making any more plans, but clearly that rule didn’t apply to him. Of course, I’d decided the same when I’d paid the messenger to get a warning to Forstford, so it seemed we were equally matched in our pigheadedness.

Whether that was a strength or a flaw remained to be seen, and I didn’t have the time to consider it as I scrambled to standing and cast about the camp.

The guards were asleep. All of them. From across the way, perched in the center of her bedroll, Isla looked over at us, her face pale and eyes owlish. Unsurprised.

She knew where Kit had gone, but of course, so did I.

My head swung toward where Forstford lay beyond the trees. Rosie stood beside me and did the same.

My heart thrummed as I glanced back at Isla once more. I wouldn’t wait for her, but if she wanted to come, I wouldn’t stop her. It may not have been safe for her to linger here with the dozing guards. It could be disastrous if they woke before we returned, and she would be left to bear the brunt of the consequences.

In answer to my questioning look, she shook her head and remained in place, lording over a small pile of crossbows before her that I assumed she’d stripped from the guards.

Rosie pulled on my elbow, though I hardly needed encouragement to move. Wherever Kit was, that was where I belonged.

I would follow him anywhere.

We took off without a word exchanged, hugging the tree line so we could blend into the shadows. Fear clenched at my chest, making my breaths rattle and strain. I didn’t dare glance at Rosie, but she must have heard, or maybe my panic was evident in the furrows of my brow, because she slipped a hand out and caught one of mine.

It was awkward to jog hand in hand, but I held on desperately with my gaze fixed ahead.

The town was quiet and empty.

It would have been suspicious if I didn’t know why. Instead, I felt a flutter of joy knowing my efforts had paid off. The message was delivered, and the people were saved. But I couldn’t truly celebrate until I knew that my people were safe, too.

Winding down lanes and rows of houses found them blessedly abandoned. Even the few horse stalls we passed were evacuated.

Hot tears of relief blurred my vision and slipped down my cheeks before I scrubbed them away on my sleeve, never loosening my grip on Rosie’s hand.

In the eerie quiet, the sudden rattle of a fist knocking on a door was as loud as a thunderclap.

Rosie and I whipped around the edge of an abandoned stall for cover, and my heart nearly tore itself from my chest. With dark curls, broad shoulders, and the profile I’d spent months studying and sketching, it was undeniably Kit.