Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
We approach the infamous walls of Balsingra nearly a week later.
I’m relieved at the sight, even if the walls look far more forbidding and unfriendly than I’d hoped.
Balsingra reminds me of a castle with its extremely tall gray ramparts, but not in a friendly, inviting sort of fairy-tale way.
Rather, it looks unapproachable and forbidding, even though the roads leading to it are flat and open, and people flock in the direction of the city from all around.
It’s been a long and awkward journey, and I’m ready to rest for a while.
Since we were ran out of Gental’s town, I didn’t get a chance to get better shoes.
Mine have almost fallen to pieces, and only a few strategic knots in the leather of my sandals keep them from disintegrating entirely.
My dress isn’t much better, but I did find a couple of yellow cloaks in the supply pack we were given, and I’ve huddled in one all week as the skies have rained down on us.
This world really loves to get me muddy.
Worse than the mud and the travel is the fact that things are awkward between me and Kalos.
Not that they’ve ever been great, of course.
He’s prickly and hard to get to know even at the best of times, and quick to say something cutting.
But…at least when he’s being cutting he talks to me.
He’s fallen into one of his fugue states since we left and stares out at nothing.
He doesn’t move unless I nudge him, and he doesn’t talk at all.
It’s like escorting a mannequin around the countryside.
It sucks.
When he finally comes to himself again, he’s cranky and short with me.
I suspect he dislikes his fugues as much as I do, and so his mood kills any conversation we might have had.
We don’t talk about the kiss. I tried to apologize a few times the first day back on the roads and was met with a resentful stare, so I gave up.
He must hate that I kissed him. I’m just a lowly human, after all. He probably thinks I gave him cooties.
Nah, he’s the god of disease. He’d like cooties.
That kiss has changed things between us, though. Before, our relationship was more businesslike. He was my responsibility, and I was his escort. Now, thanks to my lips touching his, the doors have been blown off the situation. When I look at him, I don’t think of him as a job.
I think about how his lips felt, how strong his hand was as it gripped my waist.
I think about what would have happened if I hadn’t shocked him. If he’d actually leaned into my kiss instead of pulling away.
That kiss has proven to me that I’m wildly attracted to Kalos, even if I’ve been trying to deny it. I should let it go. I shouldn’t be thinking about what-ifs because he isn’t interested.
I can’t let it go, though. I just keep thinking about it. Every time he presses his lips together, it takes everything I have not to stare and wonder what those lips would feel like against mine.
Having an unrequited crush is making things incredibly awkward.
We pass through a few decent-sized little towns, but I’m wary of lingering after what happened with Gental’s people.
I can’t stop thinking about how I’d forgotten all my duties and frolicked in the streets like an absolute idiot.
I’m ashamed that I’m so susceptible. I didn’t even realize I’d let hedonism get to me until Kalos pointed it out.
What if it had been a less benign god? A less benign Aspect?
We’d be dead.
Apathy or not, I’ve realized I very much want to live.
We pass through towns at night and sleep on the roadside when it grows light.
We’re not the only pilgrims on the roads, either.
All over there are travelers on foot or on the backs of the heavy beasts of burden that they call woales.
They all seem to be heading in the same direction, which concerns me.
“You think everyone is headed to Balsingra?” I ask Kalos at one point.
“Does it matter?”
“It could if there’s another Aspect there,” I point out.
“We’re going there specifically because one was already there, if I recall. That was the grand plan.”
I chew on my lip, considering. “I’m just second-guessing everything now.”
He flicks an annoyed glance my way. “Should we go live in a cave on the hillside? Hide under rocks until we get the all-clear?”
“Jeez, forget I asked.” I forget how cutting he can be when he wants to be a dick, and right now he clearly wants to be a dick.
We head onward and eventually approach the gates of Balsingra.
It looks a bit like one of those nesting dolls, except with walls.
The city has high, forbidding stone walls that loom over the countryside, with a large gate and a road leading up to it.
The people spread out on the roads are funneled into groups near the gates, waiting to get in.
There are men in armor with some sort of banner who are checking people as they enter.
My belly clenches, and I hope they’re not looking for aspects.
I slow my steps, letting others move ahead of us, and grab Kalos’s sleeve so he’ll stay at my side.
He turns to look at me, eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
“I just want to hang back a little,” I whisper. “Hear what they’re asking people. See if we need to run.”
“And go where?”
“That cave on the hillside you mentioned, maybe,” I hiss, then indicate with a finger to my lips that he should be silent. He huffs, but I can’t tell if the sound is amusement or annoyance.
I pull my pack to my front and dig through it, pretending to look for the fantasy-world version of my wallet.
“I know it’s in here someplace,” I mumble helpfully, and let others pass in front of us as I pretend to search, rustling my near-empty pack.
Our food supplies are almost gone, and the few dull knives I managed to steal from the inn are already tucked into the front of my tunic.
Touching the wooden branch inside the pack, I ponder if I should drag it out.
It’s about the length of my lower arm and about as thick, and I figured that if nothing else, I could use it as a club.
Kalos was skeptical that I could defend us with it, but I’d rather go down fighting than just give up.
“State your business,” one guardsman says to the people in front of us.
“Market,” the man says, and they shuffle on through, baskets in hand.
“State your business,” the guardsman says to the next man.
“I’m a traveler,” he says, a hood over his head. I can’t see what he looks like. “Going to stay at an inn and pay my respects at the temples.”
The guard puts a hand on his chest to stop him.
I swear my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. I clutch at Kalos’s arm. This is it. We’ve been found out and now we’re going to have to run. Kalos just sighs heavily and grabs my hand in his, holding it. He gives it a slight squeeze and releases it.
Was that…reassurance? Or is he trying to tell me something?
“Hold, friend,” the guardsman is saying to the traveler. “Pull back your hood. We need to see if you’ve the plague.”
“Plague?” the man bellows, even as he lowers his hood.
The guard grimaces. “Not so loud. We’re only checking. There’s a district in the city that’s been touched by the Vulture God’s hand, though he’s no longer in residence. Avoid the marked doors and you’ll be fine.” He eyes the man’s face and nods, gesturing. “You can go on through.”
“Not sure I want to, now,” the man mutters, but he heads in anyhow.
Plague. There was plague here.
Of course there was. Kalos was here, and the other Aspect probably leaked plague like a leaky sieve whenever he got moody.
Even so, it’s not something I considered, and for a moment, I’m utterly overwhelmed.
Why was I picked for this task when it’s obvious I don’t know anything about this world?
I don’t know what to be on guard for. I’m useless.
I’m going to fail, and it’s going to be purely because I don’t know what I’m getting into. Despair threatens to overwhelm me, and I swallow hard to fight back the knot in my throat. Shit. Fuck. Damn.
“You look frightened,” Kalos comments, leaning in toward me.
I clutch the near-empty pack to my stomach, hating that it growls fiercely. I’m starving, and there’s nothing to eat, not that this is the worst of our problems. It’s just another small one piled onto everything else. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“I can’t do it,” he comments. “I imagine they’ll recognize me. It has to be you.”
I shake my head, my courage deserting me. “I can’t do it. I can’t do any of this.”
He leans in close again. With his hand, he reaches out and grabs my chin, pursing my mouth like a fish and forcing me to look him in the eye. “Remember that I am Apathy. And remember that you are fiercer than you think.”
That is…achingly sweet of him. I relax and try to smile, my cheeks pushing against his hand. His gaze moves to my lips and for a long, fraught moment…I think he’s going to kiss me.
I…I thought he hated kissing me?
But his gaze remains on my lips for one breath, then another. Then another.
“Kalos?” I whisper.
Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me.
The god gives my chin a squeeze and then releases me. “Be strong,” he says, and retreats behind his bored demeanor. It’s almost as if I imagined it…but I know I didn’t.
For a moment, there was something there. Something more. I’m both frustrated and full of hope that perhaps he doesn’t find me as repulsive as I’d imagined. “Thank you for the pep talk. I’m better now. We just have to keep moving, one foot in front of the other.”
Kalos nods.
I put on my best smile, hold my pack tight, and move forward to talk to the guard at the front of the group. There’s several of them stationed together near the gate entrance, but only one seems to be doing most of the work.
“State your business,” the guard says as Kalos and I make it to the front of the line.
“Travelers,” I say brightly and lower my hood. Kalos does not. “We’re on a pilgrimage to see one of the gods during the Anticipation.”
He indicates I should show him my pack, and I do so. This reminds me vaguely of being at the airport back home, and a pat-down would probably make me homesick. “You just missed one,” the guard comments casually. “Not that you’d want to meet the one we had.”
“Oh no?” I try to keep my expression eager.
The guard makes a tossing-salt gesture over his shoulder. “Vulture God.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Ew.”
“Exactly.” He tilts his chin, indicating the high walls of the city behind him. “There’s a district with marked doors down by the temples. Avoid them and you should be fine.”
“Of course.” I take my pack back from him and slide my arm into the crook of Kalos’s. “Let’s go, honey.”
His gaze goes to my hands, and then to my face. We share another fraught moment, our eyes locked, and for a breath or two, it feels as if there’s only the two of us in the world. I stroke my thumb against his sleeve, wishing I was touching skin instead of fabric.
Kalos’s mouth shifts from the forbidding flat line to a hint of a smile. “Of course, my darling. I am at your bidding.”
Heat flushes through me. Whew. That did not have to sound nearly as sexual as it just did.
We take two steps forward before the guard calls out. “Wait.”
Shiiiiit. I turn around, making my expression bright and confused, like I’m just a poor simple woman who has no idea what’s going on.
Another guard points at Dingle. “That your goat?”
I glance down and Dingle has a scrap of yellow fabric in his mouth, no doubt torn from my cloak. He chews happily and, when I pull it out of his mouth, bleats at me. Kalos sighs and loops Dingle’s lead tighter around his other hand. I turn back to the guardsman. “Yes, he’s ours.”
“Don’t let him out of your sight or someone’s gonna make a dinner out of him,” the guard comments. “Food’s sparse lately.”
“We’ll keep an eye on him. Thank you for the warning. Is that all?” I pat Kalos’s arm, waiting for someone to demand that “my husband” lower his hood so they can check him for plague.
The guard waves a hand. “On you go.”
Whew.