He nodded, bent to gather up the blankets and the bedrolls and, with his arms full, headed for the cart.
I moved around what was left of the fire and nudged Anders with the toe of my boot. It took all my self-control not to kick him instead.
“Sun’s up,” I said when he groaned and dropped a hand over his eyes. “You should be, too. Pack your things so we can get back on the road.”
He sat up and glowered at me, looking more like a petulant child than a fully grown adult. “Are you always this bossy in the mornings?” he muttered.
“You’re the one who said ‘wake me up at dawn,’ remember?” I gestured to the eastern horizon where the sun’s early rays stained the wispy clouds shades of gold and red. “Behold: dawn.”
We ate on the road. I was too tired to focus well enough to keep us heading in the right direction, so I left Penny to the reins. When Anders dozed off in the bed of the cart, snoring loudly enough to preempt any attempt at conversation, I tucked myself in close to Penny and let my head drop onto his shoulder. Sleep hovered but never quite pulled me all the way in before Penny was nudging me to attention hours later.
The Wendwood mission was a far cry from the grand manor of the one outside Emberstead. Everything here was on the ground floor and, though it was easily four times the size of our house in Ashpoint, it didn’t look much different. It sat outside the town proper, nearly half a mile from the haphazard sprawl of houses and small farms, separated by a stretch of barren field. If our map was to be believed, the root cellar was dug into the earth not far from the northern wall of the building. But what the mapdidn’tshow was that there was a long row of windows overlooking the stretch of snow we’d be disturbing shortly.
Penny pulled the horse up when we were still a good distance away. He chewed his bottom lip and twisted the reins between his fingers.
“Here already?” Anders asked, pushing up on his elbow and craning his neck to see around me.
“Near enough,” I said. Penny’s eyes darted over to meet mine, and I tipped my head toward the mission. “Probably bestfor you to go the rest of the way on foot. We’ll wait to move in until you’re inside.”
He threw a wary look at Anders over his shoulder, then glanced back at me.
“What if I can’t distract them?” he asked.
Anders pushed up to his knees and leaned in, looping one arm around each of our shoulders and shoving his face between ours. He grinned behind his bushy beard.
“Well, Penny, then we get caught, and we die. So best do a good job. I, at least, don’t intend to die today.” He thumped us both on the backs, then turned to sprawl in the bed of the cart. “Go on. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we can go home.”
The color drained from Penny’s face. He gripped the reins in white-knuckled fists and said nothing as he stared ahead at the not-so-distant mission.
I laid my hand over his and squeezed.
“You’ll do fine, Pen. I’m not worried.”
His breath hitched, and his gaze met mine again. “I am,” he admitted softly.
I would have given anything to be able to wrap him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay. To reassure myself as much as to reassure him. But with the unwanted audience, I did the only thing I could. Shielded by our bodies where Anders couldn’t see, I worked my fingers between Penny’s until we were palm to palm. His grip was brutally tight.
“I have faith in you,” I said. “You’ll do great. Just keep them talking and away from that window, and everything will go smoothly. We’ll be out of here in no time.” I offered what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “Just think: we can be back safe and warm in Ashpoint by tomorrow evening. We’ll have a hot dinner and sleep in a comfortable bed. We just need to get through this first.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. He held the reins out to me as his eyes dipped briefly to my lips. I wanted to kiss him, too, but I satisfied myself with giving his hand one last squeeze before pulling away to take the reins.
“Please be careful,” he said. He lingered a moment more before hopping down from the bench and picking his way down the snowy road.
Anders and I waited several minutes after Penny disappeared inside the mission to make our way there, too. I steered Flint off the road and behind a line of trees near where the map said the cellar would be. Sure enough, there was a path cleared in the snow from the front of the mission to a pair of heavy wooden doors set into the ground.
Anders swung down once I pulled Flint to a stop. He spared the row of windows a glance before he hauled open the cellar doors. I scanned the dark room beyond the glass for a bit longer to assure myself there was no one in there looking out who could alert the town or the militia to our presence.
Satisfied that we were alone, I grabbed both oil lanterns from the bed of the cart and dug a box of matches out of my pack. I lit both wicks and joined Anders at the top of the earthen steps. He took one lamp and descended into the dark.
I followed him down and deposited my lamp on one of the wooden shelves built into the dirt walls. Anders ventured further in and turned a full circuit.
“Damn, they’re well-stocked,” he said. A sinister grin curled his lips. “Better hope Penny can keep the Symbiarch busy for a while.”
We started with the burlap sacks of grain stacked against the back wall. I tried to let my mind go blank, hoping the exhaustion and hard labor would blot out the thoughts clanging around my brain, but it was no use. Wendwood was a small community, and this was likely all the food they had. The seed they wouldplant in the spring, and the things they would trade for whatever they couldn’t grow themselves. A loss like this could be a death sentence for the people here, and I couldn’t escape the sick, heavy feeling that knowledge left in my gut. I wasn’t sure I deserved to.
Anders tried to engage me in conversation as we made methodical work of clearing every shelf. He went on for several minutes about how the third Oath was only the first one to start weeding out the weak, and that there were plenty more opportunities for Eeus to strike down those who weren’t strong enough to serve him. When that failed to garner any response from me, the lumberman paused at the base of the stairs on his way back in, blocking my exit.
I shifted the crate of potatoes in my grip and gestured for him to move, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest and studied me for a moment before he spoke again.
