Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
“Not in someone else’s garden that they worked for weeks on,” I agree, refusing to rise to the bait. “What if she starves in the winter because you let Dingle eat her supplies?”
The god gives me a sulky look. “We can bring her foodstuffs from the monk to make amends.” He gestures at the book. “And you’re giving her knowledge, anyhow. Isn’t that priceless?”
“Not when your bowl is empty in February,” I grumble.
“What’s a February?”
“Never mind. Let’s just go.”
“You’re so grumpy, my sweet. You know what you need?”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t say it.”
“You need to put your knees against my ears and let me lick you into a better mood.” The tip of his tongue touches his upper lip, as if he’s recalling the taste of me on his mouth. “I hate to see you upset, especially after all the hard work you do.”
“Your tongue can’t fix everything, okay?” Even as I say the words I’m laughing, because he’s just the most ridiculous. “And I’m not grumpy. I just don’t think oral sex is the appropriate answer to every situation.”
“It’s not?” He sounds aghast.
It makes me laugh even harder. “Can you please focus? I’m excited about the prospect of what we’re doing here.”
“See, that’s the thing. I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing here.”
“We’re giving them knowledge,” I say firmly as we head down the road and out of the village.
“Yes, but why? They’re perfectly happy living in ignorance and tying chickens to open wounds.” He shrugs, watching Dingle as the goat trots merrily ahead of us like a well-trained poodle. “Let them be.”
“It’s important,” I say stubbornly.
“It’s important to you, Elsie.” Kalos glances over at me, his green eyes full of questions. “I’m just constantly trying to understand why. You’ve been working on this book night and day, and now that some village woman has decided that she doesn’t like what you’ve done, you want to redo all of it. Why work so hard for ungrateful people?”
“They’re not ungrateful. We were just brainstorming ideas.”
“You’re more devoted to this project than to me.”
And there we go. Is this the real reason Kalos is in a sulky mood at the moment? He’s jealous of the time I’m spending working on the book? Every moment I’m not focused on this project, we’re kissing, or his head is between my thighs, so I’m not sure why he feels neglected. “It’s an important project,” I say. “And one that helps you in the long run, too. You’re the god of disease but you’re also the god of medicine, right?”
He shrugs, clearly bored by this aspect of his, uh, Aspect.
“I’m giving them control over their lives, Kalos. You saw what they were doing to that chicken because someone had a bug bite. Can you imagine how terrifying a stomach-ache must be? Or an infection?”
He arches a brow at me. “Yes, I can. Remember what I am.”
Right, because he’s the god of disease. Duh. “Sorry. I’m not trying to get preachy. It’s just…I want to give them a bit more control. To handle their own destiny when someone breaks a finger or a baby gets a fever. I don’t want them to panic and feel lost and alone. Getting sick or injured shouldn’t be some scary, faceless demon. I want them to be able to feel like they have answers. Real answers. Not just burning sage and hoping that some god is listening to their prayers. No offense.”
He listens to my impassioned words but doesn’t respond. I feel silly to get so heated over freaking headache cures written down in a book, and stare ahead, hugging the book to my chest as we walk. The day is a lovely one, the breeze toying with my hair and making it a tangled mess. When I look over, I see that gentle breeze is also making Kalos’s silvery locks ruffle over his brow in that perfect way that’s so darn unfair. Figures.
Kalos finally gives me a faint smile. “It all goes back to your brother, doesn’t it? Must be a nightmare for you to be stuck with me. Not only am I the most apathetic creature in all the land, but I’m also the terrible bastion of disease, the lord of scabs, the divine fever-bringer.”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way. You’re a good person stuck with a terrible job. Anyone would get frustrated. You’re allowed.”
Kalos rolls his eyes and reaches down to pick up a stick, tossing it into the rutted, muddy road ahead of us. Dingle bleats happily and races after it, little hooves scampering. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re too nice, Elsie?”
Instead of retrieving the stick, Dingle crunches down on it and dances away with it in his mouth when Kalos reaches for it.
“You. Repeatedly.” But I smile as I point this out.