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)
They might not be evil at all. It might just be another person pulled into a bigger problem and trying to survive every day. The realization makes me queasy. This feels premeditated, plotting what could be an innocent person’s deliberate murder.
“It’s either them or us,” Kalos says, noticing my silence.
“I know. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Like it or not, it has to happen. If we lose, this”—and he gestures between us—“is gone. Who I am right now disappears entirely. And I rather like this Aspect of myself.”
That makes me smile. “Because you’ve learned how to be kinder?”
He shakes his head. “Because I’m the one with you.”
I touch his cheek, memorizing his face. God, I love him. Realizing just how much makes me feel desperate and frantic all over again. I must do this for him. We have to defeat his other Aspect or there’s no more him…and I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.
Kalos is everything to me, beginning and end. I can’t fail him. “Let’s find a weapon of some kind so we aren’t going into this with nothing.”
We hunt the ground in the woods, looking for something—anything. If we were lucky, we’d find a discarded knife or even a bear trap of some kind. We’re not lucky, though, because all I manage to find is a stick with one sharp-looking end. I pick it up, hefting it like a rapier, and I start laughing.
My laughter quickly turns hysterical as I shake the stick. “I’m going to try and kill a god’s assistant with a stick. This is a joke!”
“We’ll figure something out, Sunny,” Kalos soothes me.
I realize I’m crying. I dash the tears from my face, feeling stupid and overwrought. He’s right. We’ll figure something out because we didn’t come this far just to fail. I’m not going to let him down. “Maybe we can find a good stone to rub the end against and make it sharper,” I say, forcing my tone to be bright and cheerful. “Let’s keep going.”
By the time the sun goes down, the weather is cold and my fingers feel like ice. I’ve managed to find a few more sticks but nothing that reassures me that we’re going to come out ahead. We return to the dry creek bed and curl up together. Kalos puts his arms around me to share his warmth, and I press my face against his neck, breathing in his scent and trying to ignore the painful rumble of my stomach.
I can live without a meal or two, no matter how much my amped-up appetite protests this decision. I’m in Kalos’s arms, and we’re together, and that’s enough for now.
“I’m not sure which is colder,” he comments as I burrow against him. “Your fingers or the tip of your nose.”
“My toes. Count yourself lucky that I’m not pressing them up against you, too.”
“I’d let you.”
I smile against his skin. “I know you would. It’s fine, though. It’s not like—”
His hand presses to my lips and he tenses. “Hsst.”
I sit up, my ears straining. I don’t hear anything, but Kalos’s body is rigid against mine. “What is it?”
“I hear voices,” he whispers, and slowly gets to his feet, detangling from me. “Stay here.”
Stay here? With nothing but a stick at my side? I hate that idea. I clutch my makeshift weapon tight, debating whether I pull a too-stupid-to-live and chase after him or stay here and go mad with waiting.
I stay, gritting my teeth, and I’m relieved when Kalos reappears at the top of the dry creek bed. He reaches a hand out to me to help me climb out. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What is it?” I whisper, putting my hand in his.
“You’ll see.”
We hike a short distance, and I notice Kalos is no longer striving to keep his footsteps silent. Either that’s a good thing or we’ve been found out already. I glance over at him, worried.
Then, I hear voices.
A very distinct voice, in fact. It’s Metta. Her shrill, strident tone carries through the still of the night. “We can’t have lost them,” she tells someone. “They should have been back to the village by now if they ran. Unless you think they decided to head all the way to Aventine?”
Someone answers her, their voice too low to make out.
“How the bloody fuck should I know?” Metta bellows. “Do I look like I can read the mind of a god?”
A pause.
“It’s my fault they got caught up in this mess. I blame that wretched Varina! That’s who I blame,” Metta continues, her loud voice utterly indignant. “Showin’ up, all chin in the air and acting like she’s so clever. Bunch of Belaran liars!”
Relieved tears flood my eyes. This wasn’t a big plot against us by Metta and her village, then. She’s come after us because she’s worried. It’s nice to know we have someone at our backs.