Chapter 36 #2
“Later.” His seeking hands move to my skirt, hiking it up as his fingers make their way up my thighs. “The grasses are tall here and no one’s looking in our direction.”
“You’re terrible,” I tease, and bite back a moan as his fingers find my clit.
“Terribly good at this, you mean,” he whispers in my ear, teasing. “Don’t be too loud, my sweet Elsie. You don’t want to scare the goats. Or the monk.”
As if I’m good at being quiet? We’re both so noisy and obvious with sex that Omos has a hard time looking us in the eye. The monk blushes and stammers any time he sees Kalos reach out and touch me, as if I’m going to start sucking the god off right in front of him.
But I try to be quiet. I try really, really hard.
The next day is cloudless and lovely, and Kalos is clear-eyed, so after breakfast, we pack the book in my bag, prepare a lunch, and walk our way to the village.
We leave Dingle behind so he can play with the other goats, and since we don’t have to hold his lead, Kalos holds my hand as we walk instead.
It’s…nice.
I feel normal. Happy. It’s strange, because I should be nervous about so many things, and yet I can’t think of anything other than Kalos’s smile or the way he swings my hand as we walk, just to make me laugh.
He offered to carry the pack with the big, heavy book in it today, which surprised me—Kalos has never been one to offer to carry or hold anything.
“I don’t like the thought of you tired,” he says, as if this is the most obvious answer in the world.
“That’s sweet.”
“Also because it’s hard to lick your cunt when you’re falling asleep on me.”
Less sweet, but I’ll take it. “You’re a regular prince among men.”
“I know.” He gives me a lazy, sexy smile. “I don’t hear you complaining about having your cunt licked.”
I smirk back at him. “And you won’t.”
He grins and his gaze falls to the neckline of my dress.
It’s tattered and the material thin and patched repeatedly.
I know I have a massive hickey visible on the slope of my left breast because Omos turned bright red at breakfast. I’d looked down and seen the mark while Kalos had just seemed rather pleased at the sight.
I rub my fingers over the tiny bruise and adjust my dress collar. “Is it showing again?”
“No, but your dress is falling apart. You need new clothes. The villagers offered to make me some. I should ask them to make you something instead. Something elegant that shows off your beauty.”
Again, sweet but misguided. “I spend my time either hunched over a table or helping Omos with the goats. None of that requires an elegant dress. This is fine. Besides, everyone at the village is so busy that I don’t want to give them even more work to do.
I’ll sew myself something when I have a few moments. ”
“No, you won’t. We both know you won’t.”
I shrug. A pretty dress isn’t high on my list of things to work on. There’s more important stuff to be done.
When we make it to the village, Metta races out to meet us, her apron flapping in the breeze. “There you are! About time you got here! It’s been two days!”
Oh. That’s…different. “Sorry? I was working on adding some pages to the book. I didn’t realize you were waiting on me.”
Metta grabs my hand, pulling me towards her cottage. “We’ve got visitors. They want to see our book of herbal magic.”
“It’s not herbal magic,” I protest. “It’s just medicine. Common uses for plants. Anyone can learn it.”
“But it’s coming from Lord Kalos himself,” Metta says in a serious tone. “That makes it magical.”
“It really doesn’t.” Here I am the one working on the book every day and Kalos is the one that gets credit. Figures. As we get to the front of Metta’s cottage, I notice she has Kalos’s usual chair outside the door, along with the wide-brimmed hat he borrows on sunny days.
He shrugs off the pack and sits down in his seat, tugging the floppy hat over his face. “I’ll just nap while you two work, or whatever it is you do.” He waves a hand at us. “Wake me up when you’re done.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes, because we both know he’s not napping. Metta just annoys him and so he pretends to sleep in the chair while I visit with her.
There’s a stranger inside Metta’s house, and the woman is sitting at a table eating a chunk of buttered bread.
She gets to her feet when I enter, brushing crumbs off her lap, and beams at me.
“You must be Elsie. I’ve heard so much about you!
My name is Varina, and I’m a priestess of Belara from Eagleton. ”
“Eagleton,” I echo. It sounds familiar but I can’t place it.
“Nice little place up the river,” Metta says in a brisk voice. “We do a lot of trading with them. They have a great many peach trees.”
“Oh.” I manage a smile. Varina is a plump older woman with beautiful skin.
Her hair is covered with a bright red veil decorated with tiny leaves, and her clothes are rich and sumptuous compared to mine.
I resist the urge to touch my collar again, thinking about my conversation with Kalos earlier.
Maybe I should take the time to sew together something nicer.
“I didn’t realize there would be visitors here today. ”
“Everyone’s been talking about Lord Kalos and his Maiden of Medicine and your book of magic. I wanted to come and see such a thing for myself.”
“Is that right?” I keep my tone mild, looking over at Metta.
The woman refuses to make eye contact with me, a sure sign of guilt.
So much for keeping Kalos’s location a secret.
I’m not surprised, though. The road that winds along the edge of the Dirtlands backs up to their village, and so both they and Omos deal with travelers. Plus, they all love to gossip.
Varina beams, her veil fluttering as she moves forward and showing a flash of faded red hair underneath. “Oh, indeed. The Anticipation is always a source of interest, but having a god local? That’s special. Especially since Lord Kalos has taken you as his apprentice.”
My eyes go wide. He…what? “I’m not his apprentice! I’m his Anchor.”
“But you’re sharing his magic…?”
“It’s not magic,” I say again, though I feel like shouting it at this point. “It’s herbalism. You can literally find all this information in books. Anyone can learn it. No one needs to be a wizard to use it.”
They both stare at me as if I’m speaking in tongues.
“Here, I’ll show you how it works,” I say, pulling the book out of its leather wrappings.
For the next hour, I open the book to different pages and show Varina how to read it.
I point at the symbols and go over them, and how to find the plant, the season it grows in, and how to prepare it.
She makes fascinated sounds and gazes at the pages with intense focus.
She asks a lot of questions, and I’m pleased she’s taking the book seriously.
If anything, she’s more enthusiastic about it than Metta is.
Varina sighs when we get to the last page, running her fingers over the final drawing. “That’s all so far?”
I nod. “So far, yes. It’s been a bigger project than I anticipated, but I think it’s going to be really effective once it’s completed.”
“To be certain.” The priestess smooths her veil back from her round face. “The knowledge should be shared with everyone. All the villages nearby will benefit from such a gift.”
She gets it. I get an excited flutter in my stomach. Varina sees the vision. “Yes, exactly! Everyone can use it.”
The priestess flicks to the back of the large book, thumbing through the empty sheets of vellum before closing the book once more. “Can we borrow it for a few days?”
Her question throws me for a loop. “Borrow…?”
Metta clasps her hands together. “Yes! Priestess Varina heard about the book and came here specifically to make a copy for her town. They want all the secrets, too.”
“Still not secrets,” I say cheerfully. “And, I mean, it’s not done…”
“I’m only going to be here a few more days,” Varina replies. Her fingers brush over the book again in a covetous way that makes me feel strangely possessive of it. “I want to copy down as much as I can in that timeframe, and we can return it to you.”
“It’s not a problem, is it?” Metta asks. “You were going to give it to us anyhow, were you not?”
“Of course I was. Am.” I keep smiling, even though I’m feeling wildly reluctant over this plan.
I’ve put in so many hours working on this one single book that now the prospect of handing over the fruits of my labor feels…
strange. But like Metta says, that’s always been the plan.
I just…what if they spill something on it?
What if someone tears a page out? “You can always come with me to the monastery and copy there,” I say, gesturing behind me as if Omos’s home is just over my shoulder. “We’re staying with a very kind monk—”
“Alas, I cannot spend the night under the roof of another god,” Varina interrupts with a reluctant expression. “Belara is a jealous goddess. Surely Kalos has told you all about my Lady. I am afraid I will have to copy it here.”
“Sure. Belara. Of course.” I know more about Belara than I would like.
Namely that she’s the goddess of beauty and she’s Kalos’s ex-lover and that he was furious when she spurned him.
That was millennia ago, but it’s hard not to be a little fixated on stuff like that given that she’s a goddess and I’m a mortal with chipmunk cheeks.
It makes sense that she’d be a jealous goddess, but that doesn’t mean I’m eager to hand my book over to a perfect stranger.
Metta’s gaze is trusting, though. And I suppose I must cut the cord at some point.
Reluctantly, I close the book and hold it out to Varina. “It’s information to be shared. Of course you can borrow it.”
“Fabulous! You know, we have something very similar back at our temple in Eagleton.” Varina beams at me. “Not nearly as well organized as this, but still worth a look. If you’re ever in that area, you should visit and see it.”