Page 106 of Last Rites

She gave a tearful chuckle. “I should be the one thanking you.” Her head tilted enough to catch my eyes. “Both of you.”

When she finally stepped back, she scrubbed the heel of her hand over her cheeks to dry them while she made room for Rosie’s parents to close in on us next.

“Be careful,” her mother told me as she gave me a squeeze.

Her father clasped Kit’s hand tight. “And take care of our daughter until we get there.”

“She can take care of herself,” Kit said through a smile, “but we’ll keep an eye on her.”

The Saunders traded places, said their last goodbyes, and then Kit, Rosie, and I climbed up into the cart.

Kit clicked his tongue, and we were off, waving until our friends were all out of sight.

It was surreal to leave for the last time. Watching Ashpoint’s gates shrinking into the distance as we rode out felt like the realization of a dream. I hadn’t noticed how much the town had begun to feel like a prison, long before Merrick put me in chains.

The day and a half it took us to get to Wendwood was uneventful. More often than not, Rosie teased Nutmeg with a piece of string through the bars of the crate when Kit plucked Ember from within to curl around his neck. He didn’t sit quite so tense with her purring in his ear, which left me free to join Rosie in the back so I could sketch.

When we finally passed by the mission building outside of town, still under construction after the fire, the sight turned my stomach.

There was still so much to do.

The mission itself was serviceable enough, with walls and a roof in place, so we stopped there first. Most of the supplies we brought were intended for the town. Repayment for what we stole during the fourth Oath. Rosie waited with the cart and the kittens as Kit and I went in with armloads of food and seeds with the hopes the Symbiarch would be happy enough to see us.

The place still smelled faintly of smoke, and that alone was enough to make me want to turn tail, but Kit held the hem of my shirt while struggling to balance his share of the goods, so I couldn’t very well dash out.

We’d barely made it into the hollow shell of the building when Sybil came into view. The structure was similar enough to the original design that I assumed she had been in her living quarters. Her neutral expression became cheerier the moment she recognized us.

“Penny,” she said. “And Kit. Welcome back. What brings you back to Wendwood?”

I jostled the supplies piled in my grasp. It wasn’t nearly enough to replenish their stores, but it was a start. “We owed you this. And our thanks once more. Your advice proved invaluable.”

She smiled, deepening the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Well, that is very generous.” She guided us to the back of the room where there was a simple table, and we heaped the supplies on top of it.

Once we were unburdened, I was eager to ask if she’d seen or heard about my mother and sister coming to town, but her question came first.

“What advice of mine was helpful to you?”

“About the gods,” I replied. “The rites.” Thickness clogged my throat, and I swallowed past it before concluding, “I think you saved my life.”

“Both of our lives,” Kit agreed in a low voice.

I’d explained it so many times in recent days, told this story time and again until it had become practiced. I shared it with Sybil, as much as felt prudent.

She didn’t seem as stunned as I expected. If anything, she appeared so oddly satisfied that, by the end of it, I was the one confused. Rather than speak in response, she turned toward one of the burlap sacks we’d carried in and peered inside. Her pause gave me time to think, and eventually, realization dawned.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Her thin lips curved, and my mind raced.

“But how? We didn’t tell you…?”

“I had an inkling.” Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “Enough to assume who you were and what you were trying to do. And I had faith.”

I was still slack-jawed but not too stunned to ask, “Faith in Paneus?”

“In you,” she replied, and my face flushed. Her expression softened as she glanced at Kit and added, “In both of you.”

In my retelling, I’d only touched on how much her encouragement meant and how far it had carried me. Hers were the words on my mind when I met Paneus, right before I saw my father’s soul set free.