Kit hummed and rubbed his head against me. “Plenty comfortable. Just wake me when you’re ready to turn in.” He shifted again, situating himself to sink more deeply into the sofa cushions.
I stayed still and quiet while he drifted off, then laid my head on top of his. It was good to see him as comfortable here as I was. Especially since I hoped it would be his home someday. Soon. We could have a fall wedding in the fields, surrounded by sunflowers, and everything would be yellow-bright and beautiful.
The thought made me sigh.
“You may not have found Father,” Sayla said in a low voice, “but this is better, I think.”
I raised a brow at her. “What is?”
Her expression softened. “Your happiness.”
Blush warmed the tips of my ears, and I hid a grin in Kit’s hair as Sayla carried on.
“Don’t worry too much about Mother. She worries, is all.”
“Sheworriesabout the farm,” I grumbled, and it surprised me. I’d tried not to dwell on my mother’s insinuation—and she wasn’t the only one to assume as much—that Kit only wantedme for the worth of my inheritance. We had sprung this whole thing on her, and I couldn’t blame her for her ignorance. But the implication still stung. Like my own parent thought I was worth less than some plot of land.
Sayla made a soft sound of dissent. “The farm is her life and livelihood, of course she worries about it. But you’re her son. And you’ve always been her favorite. More so now after she’s had only me for company these past few months. We’re both a bit tired of each other, I fear.” She turned aside, gazing into the hearth where the flaming logs hissed and popped.
There would be no good time to tell her, but I decided to get the bad news out of the way. “We can’t stay, you know.”
My sister’s head whipped around, and her eyes narrowed. “Why can’t you? Father’s gone. You have your prize.” She indicated Kit. “What else would keep you away?”
“Merrick,” I replied, and all the wrinkles in her face smoothed.
On the subject of bad news, our half-brother was mired in the worst of it. I worked my jaw, wondering what would be the best place to start. What would worry her least? What wouldn’t get Kit and I thrown out of here?
“He’s not in the militia, Sayla,” I began. “I’m not sure he ever was.”
My sister sat back, visibly guarded as I explained Merrick’s involvement with the Bone Men. I smiled a bit talking about his absurd ceremonial garb, but her stern expression didn’t falter. She might have pieced together the bit about Father’s body on her own, but I detailed it as well. I was never good at keeping secrets, and Sayla was my most loyal supporter. If anyone was going to understand what I’d seen and done since I’d left home, it was her.
I told her about the Oaths. Branding, grave robbing, poison, the mission in Wendwood, and the rats we offloaded in a remotewood on our way to Stagcross. There were more to come, and I told her about them, too. That they existed, anyway, since neither Kit nor I knew what they entailed. Then I told her about my new friends in Ashpoint, our fragile resistance, and our hope to change that small corner of the world.
Sayla loved to chatter as much as I did, so her silence after I finished speaking was unsettling. I wondered if she didn’t believe me and would want proof of my claims. Or worse, that shedidbelieve me and would blame Kit for leading me into it. As much as I told him I would follow him, I felt more often like I was the one pulling him along, getting into things he wanted to keep me out of. How many times had he tried to send me back here? Away from danger? But that would also be away from him, and a world without Kit was not one I wanted to inhabit.
Finally, Sayla’s head started a slow nod. “Mother can’t know any of this,” she said, seemingly to herself until she pinned me with a solemn look. “You know that don’t you? It would be the death of her.”
The necessity of more secrecy deflated me, but I didn’t argue. Like Sayla mentioned, she’d been with Mother all the months I’d been away. She knew the state of things better than I did, and I would trust her on this.
“What should I tell her, then?” I asked, frowning “When we leave again?”
Sayla rocked back in her chair with a snort. “Certainly not that you’ve joined a cult and paid homage to a wicked god.”
I drew a halting breath. I hadn’t told her what might have been the most important part; how the Bone Men had corrupted the idea of Eeus, how he and Paneus were partners, lovers, equals. But those thoughts were interrupted by Sayla’s next words.
“We have time. We’ll figure something out.” She nodded again, processing all she’d been told while a frown crept acrossher lips. “But Pen? How much more time do you need?” she asked. “Help with planting is one thing, but the fields need tending. It’s not the sort of thing you can leave unmanaged. And Mother and I…”
She glanced toward the back door and the acres of land beyond it. “It’s all yours, you know,” she said. “Youareresponsible for it. For us. And you promised when Father died?—”
“I know.” I squirmed enough that Kit stirred from sleep and turned his head to blink up at me. My smile was weak, but I hoped he was drowsy enough not to notice as I eased him upright.
“Bedtime, darling,” I said.
Kit stretched and stood from the couch, moving slowly with me close behind him.
Sayla rose, as well. I heard the disapproval in her tone when she called after me.
“Penny…”
