Chapter 9 #2
I’m tempted to roll it up again and beat him over the head with it. He can’t help himself, I remind the ugly little voice inside me. “We’re lost and a map is a good way to figure out where we’re going.”
He sits down next to me, his long, dramatic white hair hanging in his face. It’s tangled and messy, but he clearly doesn’t care. “And where do you think we should go?”
“No clue. Want to suggest someplace?”
Kalos eyes me with disdain.
“Thought not.” I rustle the map like I’m reading an important newspaper and pull it close to my cloth-covered nose again. No dice. I’ll have to look at it in the morning, when bugs aren’t in danger of flying into my eyes. I settle the open map over my head and lie back against my pack.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to try to sleep,” I tell him.
“Wonderful,” he says in a tone that indicates it’s anything but.
I want to tell him that he’s not exactly helping the situation, but I’m too tired.
I leave the unfolded map on my face and close my eyes, hoping I can get some sort of rest. Before I know it, there are birds chirping, my back aches from the awkward angle I fell asleep in, and Dingle is chewing on my boot lace.
I jerk upright, wiping at my face. The cloth falls away from my mouth, and I’m disgusted to see a few dead bugs stuck to the other side of the fabric.
I wipe at my eyes, find them gritty, and shudder with revulsion.
Please let that just be dirt. I take the map away from Dingle’s hungry mouth, give him a stick to chew on instead, and look around for Kalos.
The god is seated a short distance away on the largest root, his pristine clothes mud-spattered and his silken hair tangled and hanging in clumps around his head.
His back is to me, and he gazes up at the sunrise in peaceful silence.
He seems serene. I’m envious of that, given that I’ve just woken up in a bug-infested swamp and I’m covered in mud.
My stomach growls.
And I’m hungry. God, I am always hungry.
I shove another traveling cake into my mouth, drink some water, and grab my map and move over to his side. “Good morning.”
“Is it?” He eyes me as my mud-crusted boots squish in the sludge at our feet and my wet hem slaps against his.
“Well, we’re alive and whole, so yes, I’m counting this as a good morning.” I beam at him, determined to start the day off on the right note. “You’re going to help me read a map.”
“Why would I do that?” His gaze is bored.
I consider my answer. “Because otherwise I will nag you incessantly.”
“You already do.”
Hm. “Do you like music?”
“No.”
“Then I will sing showtunes, very loudly, and very badly, until you help me.” I hold the unrolled map out to him. “Are you a fan of Chicago?”
“I don’t even know what that is,” he says in that miffed voice of his, but he takes the map from me and eyes it. “What am I looking at?”
“Where are we on the map?”
“How should I know?”
“I was told you always return to the same spots in every Anticipation. Point out those spots to me on the map and we’ll narrow it down.” I give him an encouraging look and pat his arm. “You can do it.”
“I know I can do it. I’m not a child.”
Then don’t act like one, I think, but I don’t say it aloud. I just keep smiling.
After a moment’s casual, half-assed study, he sighs. “I don’t know the names of the cities. The High Father wipes my memories when I’m sent to the mortal realm.”
“Okay then.” I lean over his shoulder, studying the map.
He gives me an affronted look but doesn’t move away.
I’m guessing he’s not used to people invading his personal space.
Too bad, because all of my privacy has been stripped away and invaded since I got here, so he’s just going to have to deal.
I point at something that looks like dash marks over a large section of land. “Is that a swamp?”
He studies it for a moment. “I suppose.”
“Okay, well, I don’t see any other swamps.” I trace my finger over the map, ignoring the grime under my nail beds. Nothing to be done about it right now. “There’s a city here on the edge of the swamp, and a larger one here. What’s this one called?”
“Sunswallow.”
I have a vague recollection of that name.
“I think Jemet said that was where your other army was coming in. So this must be where we arrived.” I tap the map.
“And if your sun goes east to west like I’m used to, we’ve been heading south to get away from the army.
That won’t take us anywhere but the coast, according to this. Do we want to go there?”
“I don’t know. Do we like cranky sea gods and tidal waves?”
I guess we don’t, judging from that tone of voice. “Okay, maybe we head east. It looks like the swamp peters out at this spot over here. What’s this?”
“A mountain range.” Kalos’s tone implies he could not be more bored.
I tap the clear area to the right of the mountains. “This looks promising. What’s this say?”
“Here be dragons.”
“That…that’s a joke, right?”
He cocks his head, eyeing me. “Why would anyone write a joke on a map?”
He’s got an excellent point about that. I swallow hard.
“Maybe not there, then. Okay, new plan. I think we’ve got enough provisions to last us about a week.
We’ll switch directions and head west, to move along the shore.
” I trail my finger, indicating where we’ll go.
“Once we hit the shoreline, we’ll head north.
It looks like there’s a fair number of settlements in that direction, and if we hit the city that your other Aspect just left, they shouldn’t be expecting that. ”
Kalos grunts. “I suppose.”
“Well, I think it’s a decent plan.”
“You made friends with a goat,” he points out. “I question your judgment.”
I keep smiling, because I’m used to endless grumping. Wasn’t David always an absolute Eeyore when he was in the worst of his cancer treatments? But one of us needs to keep our chin up. “You’re not wrong, considering I elected to be your Anchor.”
He eyes me. Humphs. If he weren’t Apathy, I’d say he was amused at my rejoinder.
I take the map from him and study it, reinvigorated by having a plan.
There’s no scale on this map, but it shows a few roads and what look like rock-like landmarks.
The temple area we just left isn’t too far from the city, so if we spend a few days in the swamps and circle back, I’m hoping we can hit the shore before we starve to death.
Otherwise, I might have to learn how to catch a gator.
Or eat Dingle.
No, actually. I’d never eat Dingle. That’d be like eating the family dog.
I’ll figure something out. I use my thumbnail to make marks on the map, trying to determine miles or leagues or whatever they’re called here. Of course, getting to town poses a new problem. “We’re going to need weapons to defend ourselves. Any ideas?”
As I glance over at the god, his lip curls. “How should I know? You’re the one in charge.”
“You’re literally a god.”
“Of disease.” He sniffs. “And I’ve been cast out on the mortal realm with a fool at my side.”
“Well, I’m not from here. You still probably know more than me.”
Eyes narrowed, he turns to look at me. His look could curdle milk. “Exactly why did they give me you as an Anchor?”
I fold up the map. “Because no one else would take the job.”