Chapter 41 #2
Someone nearby gasps. “It’s true! They’re here!”
The crowd starts disappearing, and it takes a moment before I realize the crowd really isn’t going anywhere—they’re simply falling to their knees.
I can see the bell-ringer approach. He wears a tall, conical hat covered in golden tassels and an equally long tabard over his dark robes.
Behind him walk a couple of standard-bearers, one carrying a tall banner with Kalos’s symbol.
The other banner is a symbol of a red flower, and that must be Belara’s standard.
They’ve come here together. Well…that was not part of the plan. Shit.
I stare, eyes wide, as two mounted figures approach. Each one is riding upon a lumbering woale. It moves slowly and steadily forward, the head and back of it covered with tasseled tapestries. Riding atop the one on the left is a woman and on the right is Kalos.
The Liar Kalos.
Even though I know what he’s supposed to look like, I still devour him with my eyes.
It’s fascinating to see the changes. He looks like a mirror image of my Kalos and yet there’s something about him that’s all wrong.
Perhaps it’s the way he carries himself as he sits atop his mount.
His back is arrow-straight, and he regards the crowd with a curl of his lip.
His eyes aren’t sleepy like my Kalos, and there’s a hard, brittle edge to him that mine lacks.
His long silvery hair flows down his back like a waterfall, and his clothing is lavish, the cape on his shoulders held in place by a glittering chain of gemstones.
I…don’t like him.
I should, given that he’s supposed to be the same man as the one I’m in love with, just with a slightly different flavor to his personality.
But there’s something wrong about Liar-Kalos.
Something brittle and cold. I hate looking at him, as if he’s betraying me simply with his existence.
I look over to my Kalos again, noting his wrinkled clothing, his heavy-lidded eyes as if he’s struggling to stay awake every moment.
God, I wish he’d look over at me. I know he can’t, but I still want it.
I reluctantly drag my gaze away from the very wrong-feeling Kalos and focus on the woman at his side.
It has to be Belara. Belara the Betrayer, Kalos called her once.
She’s so beautiful it makes my stomach hurt to look at her.
She’s…perfect. Her long-lashed eyes are a gorgeous shade of amber, her skin a sun-kissed gold.
Her hair is long and red and loose, sweeping down her back and flowing across her mount’s backside.
Her face is heart-shaped with a full, red mouth and a sweet expression.
The dress she wears is simple and filmy, her nipples evident through the sheer fabric, and she’s all thick curves and plump thighs and heavy breasts.
I don’t know if I hate her or I want to be her.
“There’s your lady,” the woman at my side whispers. “She’s magnificent.”
Liar-Kalos looks over at Belara and shoots her a covetous look. It makes me want to cry, and I fight back the knot in my throat. Damn. How am I supposed to compete with a goddess? Especially one that looks like that?
The people in front of us sink down, bowing.
Someone hits the back of my leg. I go down, too.
I kneel next to the others, watching as the two gods lumber past our spot on their mounts.
They aren’t looking at the crowds, I can’t help but notice.
They’re ignoring us as if we don’t exist. Belara wears a serene (but vague) expression on her beautiful face.
Liar-Kalos looks like he’s sucking lemons. Like we’re a swarm of gnats he’d love nothing more than to shoo away.
I watch them as they move past, the procession stately as it winds through the crowded plaza.
There are more people behind them, wearing tabards of the gods’ colors—some in Belara’s red, and some in Kalos’s dark gray.
At first, I think they’re worshippers or musicians of some sort, but as they pass by and no one is carrying anything, my stomach sinks as I realize just who and what they are.
It’s an entourage.
No one is walking next to the mount of each god. No one guards them. And the cluster of people behind them are dressed exactly the same. One of them is the Anchor, I realize.
They’re hiding their Anchors in plain sight.
Oh fuck, what am I supposed to do with that? I had a hard enough time with the idea of killing one person to save myself. Now I have to hope I’m killing the right person? I have to pick one out of twenty…or just kill all twenty?
My breath rasps quickly in my lungs, and I can’t get enough air. I might be hyperventilating. I just…I don’t know what to do. I need to talk to Kalos, but I can’t. If they know who I am, they’ll kill me.
I whimper, feeling lost and alone and very, very frightened.
At my side, the woman reaches out and grabs my hand, reassuring me. “It’ll be all right, love,” she whispers. “They’re not here for us.”
She’s wrong. They’re very much here for me, but her tone is reassuring and her kindness in comforting me makes me feel marginally better.
I clutch her tight, my thoughts racing. Okay.
Okay. I can do this. I shouldn’t be surprised.
The pair of gods are deceit incarnate, so of course they’re going to try and hide their Anchors.
Hell, they might be hiding them from each other as well as from my Kalos.
For now, all I can do is observe and hope that I can determine which one is which. We’ve got plenty of time.
I hope.
Belara and Liar-Kalos are helped off their mounts, and they both approach my Kalos. Liar-Kalos sneers at the makeshift throne, but my Kalos doesn’t move or even sit up straight. He remains sprawled, legs out, as if he’s half-asleep.
They stare at each other, and the entire plaza is silent. It’s as if no one wants to be the first one to speak.
My Kalos turns his sleepy-eyed gaze on his twin. “You were supposed to come alone.”
Liar-Kalos gives him a toothy grin. “But I didn’t?”
“You lied.”
“What can I say.” He spreads his hands, his expression unrepentant. “You should have expected it?”
My Kalos gives a slow, ugly smile. “Oh, I did.”
“Is that why your Anchor isn’t next to you, but in hiding?”
“You’re not hiding yours?” My Kalos arches a brow.
Liar-Kalos straightens, his cloak swirling as he stalks forward a step.
“It’s called an entourage. You expect me to scavenge in the gutters every day like some sort of mortal?
” He looks my Kalos up and down, his expression one of pure disdain as he takes in his wrinkled clothing. “Like you’ve been doing?”
Belara steps forward, putting a hand on Liar-Kalos’s chest as if to hold him back from lunging to the throne. “Let us not fight, my darlings. We’re here for a reason, aren’t we? Shouldn’t we spend this time discussing strategy?”
“Strategy?” My Kalos sits up in his wooden throne a little. “What strategy can there be in teaming up with someone who has betrayed me—betrayed us,”—he gestures at Liar-Kalos—“time and time again? What possible advantage is there to be gained?”
The goddess laughs, the sound like the tinkling of chimes.
I hate her guts.
“My darlings, my heart is true this time. We are here to learn and to see new paths, are we not? I have changed. I have learned the error of my ways.” She emphasizes each word as if they’re vows she’s making, and each time Liar-Kalos looks over at the ethereally beautiful goddess, I want to scream a protest. She’s literally the embodiment of lies.
The fact that she’s snowed him yet again tells me how very good she is at it.
I’m terrified she’s going to convince my Kalos of her point of view, too.
That she’s going to somehow turn him around and he’s going to want to be at her side for all eternity…
…an eternity I don’t get to share with him, I’m suddenly remembering, and I’m sick to my stomach.
I clench my jaw, fighting back tears. This is stupid. This is so stupid. I need to think about the next ten minutes, not the future. Nothing has been promised to anyone. Even if Kalos wanted me at his side, he could change his mind. It might not be allowed.
It doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we don’t defeat Liar-Kalos. That’s what I need to focus on.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Someone sneezes.
I go still. My eyes flick open, and I study the crowd.
To a one, the entire Kalos-Belara entourage start sneezing.
I know what they’re doing—those fucking bastards are trying to hide who it is.
I study each face to see whose eyes are watering, who looks like they have a runny nose. Who is it? I can’t tell.
But if someone sneezed once, maybe they’ll sneeze again.
“You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” my Kalos asks. “You’re speaking in lies. When you’re not, you’re avoiding a straightforward answer. You reply to my questions with questions of your own. I’ve done this before, you know. I know how the game is played.”
“Wouldn’t it be interesting to learn that our interests are converging this time around?” Belara says sweetly. “That we have a common goal?”
Someone sneezes again.
The goddess shoots a glance at Liar-Kalos, who keeps a bland expression on his beautiful face.
“What are you doing?” my Kalos asks slowly, sitting upright. His voice rises over the crowd, most likely for my benefit. “I can tell you’re using your powers. Who is it that you’re infecting, brother?”
The crowd shivers, and there’s an unhappy undercurrent. Everyone starts to look at their neighbors with uncertainty. My head throbs, the start of a migraine. My nose tickles and I bite down on my tongue so hard that my eyes water. I dig my nails into my palms until I feel blood…but I don’t sneeze.
If I sneeze and they notice, I’m dead.