Page 9 of Last Rites

A knock at the door interrupted what had become a lengthy silence, and Kit immediately rose.

Our houseguests brought bad news more often than good, so I followed Kit to standing and tailed him to the door and braced for a potentially unwelcome unknown.

When Kit tugged the door open inward, I felt a bit foolish for how tightly my fists were clenched. The person on the other side of the threshold was a scrawny, tow-headed girl holding a folded piece of parchment.

Kit must have been equally taken aback because he puffed out a held breath. “Good afternoon?” he said.

The girl thrust out the paper she’d been worrying between her hands, and Kit thanked her before unfolding the note for us both to read.

I checked the signature at the bottom first: Levitt Yost. The Right Hand and leader of the Bone Men. Also, Kit’s childhood friend. Also, his would-be lover. Though that knowledge didn’t bother me as much as it used to.

The message requested Kit come to Levitt’s house, not the Ossuary, which was a change from the usual. What was usual was the lack of invitation, or even mention, of me.

I wasn’t sure if Kit had finished reading the letter before I grabbed our cloaks off the hook beside the doorway and declared, “I’m coming with you.”

Taking the paper from Kit’s hands, I handed him his cloak instead. He blinked down at it, then looked up at me.

“Of course you are,” he said with a nod.

I nodded back and slung my cloak around my shoulders. While I stepped into my boots, Kit addressed the messenger girl.

“Does the Right Hand still live on the south edge of town?”

The child nodded. “I’m meant to walk you.”

“Thank you,” Kit said. “It’s been a while since I’ve been there.”

Once we both had cloaks and boots on, we were off.

In the time since Kit and I had been in Ashpoint last, spring had overtaken the mountain town. The snow had melted, though it still capped the distant peaks, and my breath no longer fogged in the air as we made our way down the narrow streets. I wanted to hold Kit’s hand, but maybe not just yet, so I grabbed a bit of his cloak instead, pinching the wool between my fingers and keeping him close.

Winding down a long lane of cottages, we began to slow at last. A modest, thatch-roofed house sat at the end of the street, as nondescript as all the rest. The front windows were fitted with cedarwood boxes filled with freshly-planted flowers. The sight made my lips twitch. I wasn’t sure if it was with appreciation for Levitt’s efforts at homemaking, or surprise at seeing a different side of him. Softer than what I would expect for the leader of a body-snatching cult.

Our tiny guide dropped us on the stoop. When I turned to thank her, she was already gone, and Kit was knocking on Levitt’s door.

The Right Hand must have been ready for our arrival—or rather Kit’s—because the door opened swiftly, and Levitt’s blue eyes went a bit wide at the sight of us.

“Oh, Penny. I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” Despite saying my name, he glanced at Kit as though seeking approval for my presence.

“I invited myself,” I replied curtly.

Kit didn’t say a word, leaving Levitt to dip his chin and step aside to clear the entry. “Well, that’s no problem. Come inside. I’ll pour another cup of tea.”

I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto Kit’s cloak, looking a bit like a lost duckling clinging on. I released him and dusted my hand down my trousers while hoping Levitt hadn’t noticed.

The interior of Levitt’s home was cozy. It was arranged as a mirror to our cottage, so it took me a moment to get my bearings. Rather than a straw-stuffed sofa, Levitt’s living area held a large table and chairs, having traded form for function. It was dim, with everything cast in an amber glow from the fireplace that was flanked by bookcases just like ours.

Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling beams—lavender, sage, maybe a twist of thyme. Their scent mingled with the faint smoke from the fire and perfumed the air. I made a note to do the same at our home. It made every breath taste sweet.

While Levitt bustled in the adjoining kitchen, I took in all the homey touches Kit’s cottage had lacked when we first arrived. It seemed this Right Hand had a vastly different aesthetic than Kit’s father. Where Vaughn Koesters touted disparity and struggle, Levitt had made his home a comfortable space.

I was far from comfortable, though, as I trailed Kit to the table and he pulled out a chair for me. I sat, and he followed suit as Levitt returned balancing a tray with three steaming mugs of tea.

I glanced at the cups as he set them down, wondering briefly about hemlock poison and if Merrick had turned the Right Hand against us in our absence. Levitt’s history when it came to choosing sides was, as far as I was concerned, muddy. Not only did he know my half-brother had made attempts on mine and Kit’s lives, he’d also entertained every one of Merrick’s accusations against Kit. He’d so far been less than half the ally we needed him to be.

Levitt settled in a seat across the table from us. The fireplace at his back made his red hair look even wilder, like he was part of the flames. I inched closer to Kit, leaving the tea untouched and my brows furrowed as the Right Hand spoke at last.

“I apologize for going outside the official channels for the summons, but…” He glanced between Kit and me. “I was a bit concerned to hear that Penny arrived here alone, quite frantically looking for you, Kit.”