Chapter 15
Emmie
HEAVEN HELP ME - RAIGN ?
You're smart, Emmie, you can figure this out.
Bonded. The potion master asked if we would bond, which now makes sense of what Selene was alluding to.
If the general consensus is, we should bond to cure me, then sure, I'm game to try anything once.
There has to be a reason that Portarius is holding back though, because it just seems like a marriage type thing.
Handfasting even. I can be married to eight feet of bronzed man meat.
Last night in the bath, I was practically compelled to grind against him.
I didn't care about anything but the need to use him.
I needed him to make me come. It was this weird tunnel vision that had me so turned on I was dripping, so if that's part of the deal, then surely being bonded can't be that bad … Can it?
“If we can't talk about being bonded, then can you at least tell me what other things we need to get while we’re here?”
His swift intake of breath has me flipping a one eighty on whether or not this bonding thing is good.
Is it painful? Sacred? Torturous? I'm annoyed I have to wait all day for this conversation.
Why would he hold back from telling me something so important?
Does he not want to bond with me? Is he doing all of this to let me down gently? Am I not bonding material?
“We need more oil. More basic rations now it falls to me to sustain us.”
Ouch. I feel like an inconvenience. Now it falls to me to sustain us.
He said it in a way that I’m tempted to tell him that he doesn't need to look after me.
I can take my chances here in Inferloch if he wants to return home alone.
I don't want to be petty about it, but I can reluctantly admit that I'm still a little on edge about my situation, and my lifeline in Portarius seems to be holding back information that could change said situation.
I'm frustrated that he's frustrated, and it's getting us nowhere.
There is no option but to walk around the town together, the heat of the day already making my uneasy stomach worsen.
We've ordered a table from the carpenter, along with a matching chair for me.
I tried to say there was no need, but Portarius insisted.
If I survive all this, then I want to come back and get a rocking chair.
His front porch overlooks the Gate and the fields, and I can imagine evenings together watching the red sun set.
The quiet peace of the afterlife. But until I know what's in store, I don't want him to waste too much on me.
Why put in effort if I'm a lost cause? What I have found the most interesting is that there is no exchange of money.
No currency that I can physically see. It's almost as if the realm operates on a if you need it, then you can come and acquire it.
There is no overconsumption, no rubbish, no conflict, at least from what I can tell.
My nervous stomach has progressed into a cramp deep in my belly, nothing worse than some mild period pain, and based on the way Portarius' face is scrunched, I don't want to slow him down as we go from shop to shop.
We circled back to the blacksmith, who blew a thick torrent of steam from his nostrils as I loudly exclaimed “Ohhhhhhh,” while he spoke with Portarius.
It was like a light bulb going off that he was a minotaur and not a bull-man.
I caught myself just in time before I smacked my forehead and said it to his face.
I get the idea that he wouldn't take kindly to me ogling his species.
It's rude, no matter what realm you're in.
I feel like asking Selene to make me a t-shirt that says, I'm with the ignorant human, with an arrow pointing toward my head.
Some shitty tourist t-shirt that would tell everyone to go easy on me.
And if I'm honest, they seem to be. No one has overly engaged with me yet, but I can see they are as tentative as I am. We can gently get to know each other so that when Portarius gets his giant head out of his ass and fills me in on this bonded business, we can become familiar with each other. Surely we’ll get to a place where we're all good friends having barbeques and picnics.
Well, maybe not a picnic, but surely barbecues are a thing here.
Raw meat cooked over a flaming pit. Seems pretty on brand if you ask me.
I'm so lost in my own thoughts over the correct way to share meat in Hell that I don't pay attention to the water trough directly ahead of me, hitting the corner of it against my poor throbbing stomach.
Letting go of Portarius' hand, I bend over, clutching my abdomen.
My knees connect with the dusty cobbles, as the sharp jolts shoot a crippling lightning through my body.
My vision blurs, and I feel strong hands examine my body.
Portarius attempts to pick me up, but the agony forces me to stay curled over.
My body is throbbing with every loud heartbeat, thudding into my brain, leaving me paralysed.
“Hel … help.”
I manage to gasp out. Each second feels like an eternity as I wait for the aching to ease.
I barely register the tiny glass pipette pushing past my lips, a couple of drops of the potion master's bitter tincture spreading across my tongue.
I roll to my side as a cooling sensation, like putting aloe on a sunburn, seeps across my body.
“More,” I pant as small whimpers of relief escape me.
Portarius has moved me to the entrance of a small alley, out of the view of bystanders, but I'm under no illusions that the poisoned human girl will be the talk of the town by nightfall.
Large hands massage my body, and with each stroke, the tincture seems to spread deeper into my organs and bones, seeming to heal me from the inside out, relaxing each clenched muscle until I can finally take in an entire lung full of air.
I roll away from him, clouds of dust blowing out as my heavy breath disrupts the dirt.
Cracking my eyes open, I’m rendered speechless as the looming figure of a spider sways at the end of the alley.
Its large legs bounce as its bulging belly shines in the dimming light of the red sun.
My eyes flutter, the intensity of the spasms sapping all my energy.
I can’t move or cry out. But as soon as I take the extra second to push through the fatigue, the Ananea is gone.
I can feel my body sag into the ground, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.
I can hear Portarius fussing, but I have no energy to move or even tell him that I'm okay.
I just need rest. There's no need to be worried … yet.