Chapter 41 #3
Liar-Kalos pulls away from Belara’s clinging hands.
His long white hair flutters in the breeze.
He steps forward and I can’t see his face.
I’m tempted to follow along, to move forward until I get a good look at him, but it feels safer to stay hidden where I am.
He speaks, and the plaza crowded with people hushes.
“Isn’t it obvious you don’t trust me?” he asks, voice ringing out. “Wouldn’t it be interesting if I sprinkled a little plague amidst the crowd here and see who you rush to save?”
A baby cries. A woman sobs. Other than that, it’s utterly silent.
My gaze goes to my Kalos. My heart is breaking, because I can feel the fear building around us.
Everyone’s terrified. If it truly is the plague, we’re infected already.
There’s no running from it. He’s willing to kill hundreds just to flush me out.
I should step out and make myself known. Save everyone here.
But I can’t make myself step forward. I remain where I am, nails tearing furrows into my now-wet palms.
“Rush to save a mortal?” My Kalos leans forward on his throne, a mocking expression on his face. “That’s cute. I like how you’re willing to kill everyone here to prove a point. I could do the same, you know.”
My nose tickles again.
Fuck fuck fuck. I bite down harder on my tongue, my eyes watering and trails of tears sweeping down my cheeks as if I’m weeping for everyone here.
Truth is, I’d love nothing more than a big nasty sneeze, but I can’t.
I don’t dare. I keep my watery gaze peeled and stare hard into the faces of the cluster of people in Kalos tabards, looking for one that looks as if he’s fighting a sneeze as hard as I am.
Belara raises both of her hands in an elegant sweep of sleeves.
Her long sheaf of red hair trails out behind her like a banner.
“Let us not bicker! This foolish arguing between us solves nothing and simply makes us weaker, don’t you think?
Didn’t we come here to discuss bigger problems than who is hiding their Anchor?
” She turns her head, her lovely face indignant.
“Do you truly think we came here to defeat you, Apathy?”
My Kalos’s eyes narrow as she approaches the base of his hay-bale throne. He looks at her with suspicion. “Claims the Aspect of Lies.”
Annoyance flashes over her face. “As you are aware, Lies I may be, but it is not all I am. We don’t have bigger problems to be solved! We aren’t weaker fighting amongst ourselves, gentlemen.”
Belara must be losing her concentration, because none of that was a question. It means they were lies, instead.
“Like what?” My Kalos asks. “Bigger problems like what?”
Liar-Kalos must say something, because Belara shoots him a frustrated look.
She reaches out to touch him like a lover, but he steps out of her grasp, and the annoyance moves over her face again.
She concentrates on my Kalos instead. “The three of us need to work together because that fool in the east is building an army, isn’t he?
Shouldn’t we do something about him? The usurper is welcome amongst us. ”
The way she bares her teeth tells me that she hates, hates, hates Seth, the Usurper in question.
Are they really worried about that guy? I’m a little surprised that he’s enough of a factor that the goddess wants two other Aspects to band together with her to fight him off.
Maybe being split into four aspects makes her feel vulnerable.
Whatever it is, it’s a losing play on her end. My Kalos is never going to go for it.
“Work with you?” my Kalos asks. “Both of you?”
“Why not both of us?” she replies, eyes glittering. “With three Aspects working together, we’d be unstoppable, no? Didn’t you hear that Aron of the Cleaver has already been removed from the mortal realm? Don’t you think the three of us could run things if we worked together?”
He strokes his chin.
Okay, maybe my Kalos is going to consider it. My stomach sinks at the realization, but maybe he’s got a plan for all of this. Maybe there’s an angle I’m not seeing.
My Kalos stands upright, kicking the chair back behind him. He shoots the two gods a narrow-eyed look. “What makes you think I want to work with my two greatest enemies?”
Oh, thank fuck. I exhale with relief.
“Come now,” Belara says, moving forward. She doesn’t climb the hay bales to be on the same level as Kalos, but she moves to stand right before him. Her hand grips his thigh and she’s face-high with his crotch. “I can be very convincing.”
Murder. I want to murder her.
My Kalos plucks her hand off his leg and steps away from her grasp. “I’m no longer interested in anything you have to offer.”
I make a soft noise of relief in my throat. At my side, the woman leans in close to whisper. “No offense, my darling, but I’m not very fond of your goddess at this moment.”
“Me either.” I pull the veil off my head and stuff it under my arm. It’s probably not a good time to be seen as a Belara worshipper. I’m rather disgusted by how blatant the goddess’s ploys are. Does she really think this shit is going to work? It seems painfully obvious to me.
But as I watch, Liar-Kalos’s hand clenches with anger as he sees Belara flirting with my Kalos.
Okay, so maybe someone is falling for this.
Someone in the crowd sneezes again.
I snap my attention back to the throng. Who was that?
The entourage all sneezes repeatedly and obviously, trying to cover up for one person in particular. But…who? I stare at them all fiercely, trying to figure out which one is the real Anchor. Which one looks like they’re faking?
A young, freckled man turns his head, and as he does, I see a gleam of wetness under his nostril. His nose is running. His eyes look a bit watery, and as I watch, he sniffs.
Aha. He’s not faking.
Unless he’s actually sick. But why would Liar-Kalos make his own men sick? He wouldn’t. As I stare the man down, he sneezes again. The others follow suit, but it’s too late.
I know which one is the Anchor now. A sick joy spreads inside me even as I realize I’m going to have to kill him.
“Are you really going to infect all these people?” my Kalos asks, his voice pitched loud enough to carry over the crowd. “When we’re supposed to be meeting here in peace?”
I feel for my sword handle under my clothes. It’s belted at my waist, but I need room to draw it, and even more room to use it.
“You’re the one refusing to cooperate, aren’t you?” Liar-Kalos growls. “Didn’t we come here in peace?”
“Says the god spreading his plague even now. You think killing my Anchor will get you what you want? I thought Belara wanted to work together?”
“Can’t you tell I do?” the goddess cries, shooting an angry look at Liar-Kalos. “Isn’t it obvious we’re here for discussions? Nothing more?”
Someone sneezes again, followed by another chorus.
Ahead of me, a big man sways, as if ill.
Someone makes a retching sound. Ugh. I press the back of my hand to my brow, but I can’t tell if I have a fever or not.
If the crowd is really being infected with plague, I have to act soon.
I glance at the two Kaloses—still staring each other down—and Belara is turning to her people.
She makes a subtle gesture with her hand, and my heart clenches in fear.
“That man!” I bellow out as loud as I can and point into the crowd. “He’s got a knife! He’s here to attack Belara! Quick! Someone protect the goddess!”
Screams break out. The crowd surges ahead and I see the goddess being swarmed by her attendants, rushing to protect her.
I pull my sword free and move towards Kalos’s retinue.
His Anchor, the one I’ve identified, hovers at the back of the retinue group, likely to throw me off from assuming he’s the real one.
There’s a woman surrounded in the center of the similarly garbed attendants, but I keep my eye on Runny-Nose.
He’s hanging back as the others move closer to Liar-Kalos.
People jostle and push in the plaza, and someone starts screaming. It’s madness.
It’s perfect.
I move closer. Before I can think about what I’m about to do, I plunge my blade into the man’s back.
I…really expected there to be more resistance.
It’s like sinking a blade into a spongy roast. The man stiffens, making an audible gasp as blood floods down his clothing. I shove harder, pushing deep, and there’s a wet sound and feel to it that’s going to haunt my dreams.
He turns his head and stares at me, his upper lip wet with snot.
What have I done?
I can’t move. I’m frozen. I stare into the eyes of the person I’ve just murdered, my hands falling from the blade.
What if I’ve chosen wrong? What if this guy just has a runny nose? For a long, horrified moment, I think I’ve made a mistake. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”
A rough hand grabs my arm. I stare up at Liar-Kalos as he gazes down at me, his fingers like pincers. There’s an unholy light in his eyes as they flick over me, and he laughs.
It’s the most jarring laugh I’ve ever heard. Again, it sounds like my Kalos, but off, strange. Unsettling.
The man I’ve stabbed falls to the ground and as the crowd rushes around us, Liar-Kalos looms in, his face inches from mine. His eyes are feral with unholy light. “He doesn’t love you, you know.”
I flinch, trying to jerk my arm out of his grip.
Liar-Kalos grins obscenely, flashing his teeth at me.
I’m trapped. Something went wrong—
As I twist in his grip, he fades out before my eyes, like a polaroid in reverse. I’m left alone in the plaza, shaking and trembling as panicked people rush around me.
My Kalos sweeps to my side, throwing his tattered cloak protectively over my shoulders. “Come, Elsie. You’re safe now.”
“I don’t feel safe,” I say, teeth chattering. I feel hollowed out inside. Destroyed. Tainted. I just murdered someone. “Wh-what about Belara? Won’t she attack?”
He strokes my hair back from my face. “She’s not my enemy. My enemy was him and now he’s gone.” A ghost of a smile crosses his face. “We’ve won.”
Won.
My Kalos has won. There’s no one else to be defeated, no more obstacles for him to return to his home. I should be celebrating, but it hasn’t truly sunk in, not yet. Someone races past us in the plaza, elbowing me, and I move closer to his protective form. “What happens now?”
“I can ascend whenever I’m ready.”
I lick my lips. “When is that?”
“When you’re ready,” he says gently.
As in, when I’m ready to die, because I’m the thing tying him to this world. “I-I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
He nods and pulls me in close. I fall into his arms and let him stroke my hair, and all the while I shiver and shudder against him. “You take as long as you need, love.”
I shiver against his chest, but my head is too full. I can’t relax. “What about you? How are you? Do you feel different? Has anything changed?”
“Nothing of import.” He strokes my hair again. “Hush. We’ll talk about it later.”
There’s a tenderness to his tone that feels…
new. I pull back and gaze up at him, searching his face.
He looks the same, but some of the soft edges on him are gone.
His eyes no longer look as sleepy. He seems more alert, his angles sharper.
I could feel his Apathy before, just in looking at him.
Now it feels as if some of it has been smoothed away, like he’s come into focus.
I don’t know what to make of it. The last thing I want is for him to change.
I study his face harder, looking for signs of that other Kalos, his brittleness.
All I see are green loving eyes as they gaze back at me.
He cups my face in his hands and strokes my cheeks. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
Easy for him to say.