Chapter 40 #2
I drag myself toward the gates of Narshire.
I’ve followed the long, cobbled road that winds between the towns here, and Narshire seems charming enough.
The gates are decorated with pennants in bright colors, the low wall surrounding the town is covered in green ivy, and a sheepherder guides his flock in on the horizon.
It’s all very pastoral. There is one guard at the gate, an older man with a magnificent silver moustache and a rounded belly.
He wears a leather hat with a jaunty feather in it, a colorful blue cape, and his shoes have curled tips.
My guess is that he’s there to be a greeter more than to keep out bad guys.
I put on my best I’m-With-Belara smile and approach him. “Good afternoon to you, sir. Can you lead me to the nearest inn?”
I’ve practiced the words in my head a jillion times with every step, because I need to sound like I’m a casual traveler and not, say, a dog walker from Chicago.
But Kalos’s fever is getting to me, and it comes out utterly congested and pitiful.
“Goob abernoon, sir. Cab ewe eed me to da nearbest inn?”
He flinches, his return smile of greeting fading a little. “My friend, you don’t sound well. Is it…contagious?”
“Hay,” I say, hoping that hay-fever is a thing here, too. I should have asked for a cover story. Shit. Three violent sneezes follow my answer.
The guard moves further away, out of the splash zone. “A rotten thing for travelers, indeed. Are you one of Belara’s chosen?”
I try to wear a pious look on my face and smooth my annoying red veil. “Indeed I am.”
“Then you are in luck!” He leans in, eager to share gossip. “Rumor from out of Eagleton is that her Aspect is heading this way.”
I gasp and clutch at imaginary pearls, wondering if I’m selling it too hard. “No!”
“Yes!” He beams at me. “I can’t speak to the truth of it, but a great many have flooded in through these gates today, hoping to get a look at the Lady of Beauty.”
“I am so blessed,” I say, and sneeze again. Sweat drips down my face, making the veil cling to my skin. “Sorry. I’m just exhausted. Where did you say the inn was?”
He points inside the city. “Follow the wall along the right. Look for the sign of the drunken pig.”
“Perfect. I hope we shall both look upon Belara tomorrow.”
“Gods willing!” He chirps.
I wave at him and hobble my way forward, hissing in pain with every step into the town itself. It does seem rather busy. If I wasn’t struggling for every mucus-ridden breath, I’d probably analyze it more. As it is, I just want to find the fucking inn and lie down.
This feels like the nastiest case of the flu I’ve ever had, and combined with the ache of parting from Kalos, it’s torture. Every breath hurts. Every step sends pain lancing up my legs.
Lying down in the road and dying seems like a good option. A very good option. But then I see the inn’s shingle sign with a dancing pig holding a goblet and drag myself toward it. The throbbing toothache pain of being separated has turned into full-fledged migraine mode.
Is it possible for your entire being to have a migraine? Asking for all of my limbs.
The inside of the inn is bustling with people.
With dismay, I realize that word of Kalos’s arrival has spread and people are showing up just to get a look at a god Aspect.
It means there might not be rooms to have.
Well, shit. I can sleep in a stable if I must. It’s not vital to our plan that I have a good night’s sleep.
I just need to be here and blend in with everyone else.
I sneeze again, and bite back a moan of misery.
People scoot away from me as I blow my nose, trying to stay away from my germs. I hold a tattered handkerchief to my face and search for the innkeeper.
A woman bustles past with a pile of linens in her hands, and I stop her with a touch on the arm.
“I’m sorry to bother you. Who do I see about getting a room? ”
“Oh, we’re full up,” she says, and clucks her tongue at me. “You poor thing. Do you need a healer?”
“Just a bed,” I manage with a watery smile. “I swear I’ll be fine in the morning.”
She eyes me as if she very much disbelieves this and turns to a balding man talking to a merchant nearby. “Dear, this priestess needs a room for the night.”
I try to smile brightly, as I hope a priestess would.
The two men turn to look at me. The innkeeper wipes his hands on his apron. “We’re full.”
“Oh no, and with my goddess on the way, too,” I say, trying to seem pathetic. “And me sick as a dog. This is just terrible.”
The wife gives me an uneasy glance and moves toward her husband. “I don’t want to put out a sick priestess if Belara is truly on her way.”
“We don’t have any rooms.” He spreads his hands.
The merchant pauses and eyes me. “She can have my quarters. I’ll sleep in the common room with the other lodgers.”
“Are you sure?” the wife asks.
I surge forward and grab the generous merchant’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you, sir. You are the very soul of kindness. If I speak with my goddess, I will sing praises to your name. I—” I break off and sneeze again.
Everyone takes a step back. The man wipes his hand on his clothing, as if my cooties are contagious. Hell, they might be. “Perfectly all right. Can’t have you sleeping in the common room and getting everyone sick, can we? The goddess would not be happy.”
“You’re a truly kind soul,” I say again, and mean it. The exhaustion threatens to overtake me, and I turn to the lady innkeeper. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I’d truly like to lie down. I’m not feeling so well.”
“Of course! Follow me.”
I give her all the coins I have in my pocket.
She wipes them on her apron and leads me up the stairs to a door at the end of the hall.
It opens to a tiny room the size of a closet with a bed and a window the size of a plate with a tiny shutter over it.
“This is all we have,” she announces, turning her head as I squeeze in past her.
“Breakfast will be at dawn. First come, first served.”
“This is perfect, thank you.” I collapse on the bed, sagging heavily.
Every muscle in my body feels sweaty and painful, both.
My skin hurts. My teeth hurt. My head hurts.
I don’t know how I’m going to make it until dawn.
All I know is that I need to lie down for a few minutes or I’m going to collapse.
She watches me from the doorway. “Sure you don’t need a healer?”
I nod and lie down on the bed. It’s musty-melling, and the blankets are scratchy and unpleasant against my skin. For a moment, though, it feels so good to lie down that I want to weep with relief.
The door closes and I’m left alone. I stare up at the ceiling above me, and I feel very alone and very frightened. My body throbs with agony and I suck in a painful breath. I lie quietly, waiting for the misery to go away.
I just need to last until dawn. Then I can find Kalos again.
My poor Kalos, hiding in the bushes somewhere like a raccoon.
The visual would be funny if I didn’t hurt so much.
Right now, it feels like it would be painful to simply draw a breath, and I concentrate on breathing.
The thought of Kalos being somewhere nearby doesn’t go away, though, and I drag myself out of bed and to the tiny window.
I open it up and stick my face into the fresh air.
It’s crisp and brisk and incredible against my overheated skin.
I remove my sweaty Belaran veil and toss it down on the bed, then stare out the window.
The wall that surrounds the edge of town is in view. Is this close enough, I wonder.
A sharp pain hits me in the solar plexus, and I double over, unable to breathe. Oh god. Oh god. It feels like my insides are being pulled apart.
The pain fades a moment later and seems to lessen. Is it Kalos, moving along the outskirts and trying to find a spot as close to me as possible? I put my hand out the window and wave, even though I can’t see anyone out there.
I shift to the left and the pain pulses through me, making me gasp for air. Quickly, I step to the right again and it subsides a bit.
Just a bit. Still feels like I’m being shredded internally. Everything about all of this is wrong. If the window was any larger, I’d be tempted to dramatically throw myself out of it, just to crawl a few steps closer to Kalos and relief from this endless pain.
Dawn, I remind myself. You only have to make it ’til dawn.