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)
She shrugs and tilts her head, regarding Kalos. “Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be ascending right now?”
“I’m waiting.” He moves towards me.
The goddess eyes me, and her gaze is hard as steel. “That so.”
He moves between us, blocking me from Belara’s gaze. “Plenty of time yet. I won’t leave things in such chaos.”
He moves through the plaza, and I grab my short sword and trail after him. My hands are stained with blood. I wipe them on my red over-tunic, then discard it entirely. I don’t want Belara to think I’m part of her group. There’s something about her that’s so distasteful, so mercenary. She might be the goddess of beauty, but the cliché of it being skin deep runs through my head repeatedly.
Kalos kneels next to an old woman who has collapsed on the cobblestones. She coughs violently, her lungs wet. He takes her trembling hand in his. “Come now, stand up.”
She gazes up at him with shining eyes full of awe, and slowly gets to her feet while I sneeze wildly.
“Better?” he asks her, and when she drops to kiss the tops of his shoes, he grimaces and glances over at me apologetically. He helps the woman back to her feet again. “Not necessary, truly. Tell me, do you know of the mayor of this city? Where can I find him? My Anchor and I need a place to relax.”
“You…you healed me, Lord Kalos. Praise to the Vulture!” She clings to him, weeping. “Praise!”
He gives her an awkward pat.
Another woman approaches, holding out a crying baby. “Can you heal my daughter?”
Others are stopping, watching with interest. When Kalos sighs and brushes his fingers over the baby’s forehead, it immediately stops crying. More people drop to their knees in front of him, genuflecting.
I blow my nose into his shirt again as he glances back at me. I’m still sneezy every time he reaches for his powers, but it’s not as overpowering as it was before. There’s a muted feeling to everything now, as if he’s not pulling from just me, but from somewhere else, too.
“The mayor?” Kalos asks again. “Or some other official? Someone with a decent house?”
“Can you heal my hand?” asks an elderly man who crawls to the front of the group. He holds out a withered claw of a right hand, his skin dark and shiny with scar tissue.
Kalos looks back at me again. It’s clear he wants to leave, and it’s just as clear that as the crowd calms down, they want his attention. More people are approaching with babies and ancient parents, and there’s a small boy on crutches hobbling towards the kneeling crowd.
Poor Kalos just looks emotionally constipated at all of this.
“Take your time,” I tell him, waving him on. “We’re not in a rush.”
He sighs, shoulders dropping. Then he turns to the crowd again. “Get chairs for me and my Anchor, and we’ll see as many of you as you need.”
A ripple of excitement rushes through the onlookers. A few people race off, and someone heads for the hay throne to pull down the wooden chair.
“Ugh, so generous of you, dear Kalos. This isn’t like you at all, is it? What strange influences you must have had this time around.” Belara gives him a cat-like smile and ignores me as she approaches. She strokes his arm as if I’m not there on his other side and flicks an imaginary piece of lint from his bare shoulder. “How about we meet up and talk more once you’re done pandering to the locals?”
The goddess waves at her entourage and heads away, strolling across the plaza. I watch her go, an uneasy feeling in my stomach. She’s got this calculating look in her eyes that I’m not enjoying very much. I have a feeling that we’re going to keep seeing her until we leave this city…maybe even longer.
Yippee.
Another sneeze overwhelms me and I double over until the next wave passes.
After hours of Kalos healing people in the plaza, my nose is completely stuffed up, my head is throbbing from repeated sneezes, and I’m limp with fatigue. But the locals are absolutely in love with Kalos. I can see the hope and joy in their eyes as they regard him now. It’s so different from the suspicion they had earlier today. Then, they’d watched him as if they expected to be struck down at any moment.
Now they look at him as if he’s Santa Claus.
It’s sweet, and I love that for him. He’s been patient and kind, even when strangers shoved babies into his arms. Someone even brought a pet rabbit and he’d held it for several minutes, stroking its ears before pronouncing it healed. It’s a very different side of Kalos than I think anyone expected, even him. There’s no sign of Belara as the day wears on, but that’s not surprising. Something tells me that the goddess only does what she feels is in her best interests.