Page 83 of Last Rites

But while I should have been celebrating, I felt more wretched by the moment. What good was saving Kit’s home if he would never set foot in it again?

“Quiet, you!” the commander snapped, cutting off my garbled insistence.

I snorted and gave a violent squirm, the ropes chafing my wrists while my legs stretched stiff before me. Rosie glanced my way, wide-eyed, but there was no pity in her expression, only fear.

Ben managed a bit of sympathy. “Really, you can let the boy speak for himself.” He motioned to me again. “What he told you was the truth.”

“Claims without evidence,” the commander said, flicking her hand through the air. “Just strangers stirring panic. Likely planning to loot the town in your absence. Rob the unwitting citizens of everything they hold dear.”

That did it.

My skin went hot, and I wriggled and twisted, dipping my chin until I could wedge the kerchief between my teeth and tongue. It tasted sour and smelled the same as I pushed it far enough out that words could squeeze past.

“And call you here to observe it?” I spat. “You think we wanted to be caught? That doesn’t make sense, and you know it.”

The commander’s eyes narrowed, dark and unreadable. “No, it does not. None of this does. We arrive to a vacant town, an empty threat, and troublemakers flooding the streets with knives. What did you intend to use the weapons for?”

I turned my head aside and rubbed my shoulder over the gag, fighting to keep it from sliding back into place. “I intended to make a point. And to take back what belongs to me.”

“What’s that?” she asked coolly.

The question lanced through me, dragging me back to the sight of Kit being led into the trees. He hadn’t looked back, but I had—burning the sight of him into my memory. It might have been the last time I’d ever see him, and that knowledge haunted me.

I dropped my gaze and muttered, “Doesn’t matter. It’s too late now.”

Silence followed, broken when the front door banged open and a line of soldiers tramped inside. Their boots struck the floorboards with the kind of rhythm that made my pulse quicken.

The commander stirred to their arrival, abandoning us to greet them with a questioning look.

One of my claims they had believed, at least enough to act, was about the Bone Men’s camp outside of town. It was the only proof I had, and I gave it reluctantly.

I hadn’t wanted to hand Kit or Isla over to these people, but I was desperate now. Foolish as I’d ever been, and hopeful they would show mercy that Merrick would not.

“There was something,” the man in front confirmed. “Signs of a fire, very fresh. Someone was definitely camped there until very recently.”

I sighed relief, having worried they wouldn’t find the spot I described. I’d offered to show them the way, but they dismissed me with some grumbling about being led into an ambush and went out on their own.

The commander nodded, then glanced back. Her eyes caught on mine.

She closed the distance between us and crouched in front of me. I forced myself not to shrink from her glare, holding myself rigid instead, every nerve taut with defiance.

Her jaw ticked before she reached out, hooked her fingers over the edge of the gag, and tugged it down. The spit-slick cloth raked over my skin, catching on stubble, before it hung in a damp loop around my throat.

“Tell me again,” she said, voice low, face unreadable. “How did you come here?”

“I was brought.” My head tipped toward Rosie. “My friend and I, and two others—they shoved us into a cart and drove us across the province in the name of one of the Bone Men’s Oaths of initiation. They’ve bastardized the old rites, turned them into something ugly. Just a pretext for havoc and ruin. We meant to stop them, but we…” The word failed lodged in my throat, something I couldn’t admit. I swallowed it down and tried a different tack. “I sent a message ahead to Ben and Forstford. To spare them. Or help them spare themselves.”

“From a fire,” the commander said flatly.

A shiver rippled through me. “Yes.”

“But there is no fire.”

“No. Because you got here in time.” I lifted my chin and met her eyes with what strength I had left.

Because we didn’t fail. Not at everything.

A long pause passed before I realized that she was still listening. Listening in a way she hadn’t before, chin tilted, eyes narrowed but not dismissive. For the first time, I had her ear, and I wasn’t about to waste it.