Page 104 of Last Rites

“You?” she asked.

“Both of us now, I suppose,” he murmured.

The commander’s brow pinched as she glanced at me. Clearly, my speedy departure from Forstford had been neither forgotten, nor forgiven.

But they came. Led here by…

I scanned the square until I spotted Rosie across the way, caught between her father and mother in a crushing embrace.

On horseback a few dozen feet beyond the commander, Ben was closing fast. He drew his mount up alongside us and swung down in a motion that seemed far too graceful for his large frame. Kit’s body, which had been like stone against mine, loosened at the butcher’s proximity. The older man made to approach, but the commander stopped him with her outstretched sword.

While Kit relaxed, Ben looked at us in horror. His shock reminded me of the state of our clothes and, well, everything else.

Of course, the commander noticed as well, and she regarded us with a sense of guarded skepticism as she said, “We have… questions.”

Kit nodded, then pulled away enough to gesture to the Ossuary doors.

“Inside?”

The commander glanced at Ben, then us, before dismounting. Another soldier came up to take the reins of her horse as she motioned for Kit and I to lead the way into the building.

I didn’t want to go near the caverns again, and I worried for a moment Kit would take her there. Showing was easier than explaining, but perhaps more confusing. Not to mention directing the militia to a veritable mass grave was a terrible idea. Considering the blood covering us from shoulders to shins, it was a miracle we hadn’t been arrested on sight.

Ben followed, and a distant shout of “Wait!” announced Rosie joining our small procession. She didn’t have to chase for long because Kit stopped at the long table in the atrium and encouraged the commander to take a seat at one end.

Rosie drew up short at the edge of our group, and her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

“Gods, what’s happened to you?”

My laugh first felt awkward, then like a much-needed relief, though everyone in the room was staring at me in bewilderment before I managed to reply.

“Gods.”

I hoped Kit would laugh, too, but he looked terribly serious as he faced the commander and said in a low voice, “Welcome to Ashpoint. Unfortunately, you’re a bit late.”

There was an edge to his tone and the stiffness returned to his body as he hauled me to his side.

Ben and Rosie crowded in as well, scanning over us and searching for the source of all the blood.

“Late for what, exactly?” the commander asked.

In the pause, I wondered if Kit thought of the bitterness that had plagued him since he’d first been brought here as a child. The damage that had been done to him and countless others. I waited for him to cast blame, to accuse or even rage at the militia’s lack of involvement until the last possible moment. Their inability to prevent this, and instead leaving it in the hands of a farmer and a blacksmith.

Instead, he explained slowly and patiently, from the very start.

Some of it I had told her myself when trying to garner my freedom in Forstford. Having Kit corroborate my story gave me a sense of vindication, as did the commander’s nods as she took the information on board.

When he got to the part about the Vessel, I was held rapt. I’d missed some of the events while I was… away… and it made me ache to see how clearly it pained Kit to discuss what Merrick had done.

I leaned into him, and his fingers roamed across my middle. I cupped my hand over his, then moved it higher. Away from the scars and toward where my heart was beating, steady and strong.

“You understand this all sounds rather incredible,” the commander said slowly. “I would have more doubt, but we witnessed a bit of what you claim when we rode up. There were guards at the gate, and as we approached they simply… dropped dead.”

Rosie hadn’t stopped staring at me, and she looked so fretful I had to offer her some reassurance.

“It’s okay,” I mouthed and added a crooked little smile.

“I’ll need to see the… evidence,” the commander said, but the request didn’t seem to be born of doubt. Her face had paled through Kit’s retelling, as had Ben’s.