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)
No one that loves animals like that can be a bad person, I decide. His sweet grandpa act must be legit.
“Aha!” He holds a battered leather-bound book aloft. “Here we go. I like to put all my notes of the people I’ve met this Anticipation. It might be of value to future generations.”
“Who else have you met?” I ask, curious.
He chuckles again, moving to a tiny table across the room and seating himself at a stool there. Omos adjusts his robes, hands a sad-looking turnip to Dingle, and opens his book. “The first I met was the Butcher God. He was quite fearsome, but his Anchor was a lovely woman. That was well over a year ago. Or was it two?” He flips through the pages, looking for answers.
“I thought all the gods were kicked out at the same time,” I say, glancing over at Kalos. He’s leisurely flipping through a book as well, but his expression is the opposite of Omos’s—he’s bored out of his mind.
“Not always,” Omos replies. “And not all gods. The Lord of the Wild, Kassam, was not in the last Anticipation. And I have had no reports of the Lady Anali thus far. Either she will be descending soon, or she will not be participating in this Anticipation.”
“Or she’s in hiding,” adds Kalos.
So he is listening, despite his apathetic appearance.
“Why, yes, it could be that,” Omos says and pulls a tiny pair of spectacles out of his pocket, perching them on his nose. He peers down at his book and frowns. “I need a light. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
“Any others like me?” Kalos asks in that bored tone.
I go still, my body flooding with fear. We’ve been on the run from the Aspect of him that was at the swamps, but I’d somehow forgotten that there are two more out there, three others in total. And they’re all going to be gunning for each other.
“Not here specifically,” Omos says, consulting his notes. “But one was in the region a few weeks ago before I stopped receiving information about him. Of course, it could be that the entire town has passed due to plague.” His mien turns sad, and he makes a warding gesture at his shoulder.
“There’s plague in a town near here?”
“There was as of last winter. The town quarantined themselves for many months and only recently lifted the ban on travel.” Omos thinks for a moment and turns to Kalos. “You may stay with me as long as you like, my lord, but all I ask in return for my hospitality is that you harm none upon these grounds. I get visitors and I would hate the thought of infecting them with plague when all they need is a bed and a bite to eat.”
Kalos looks to me.
I’m surprised by that. He’s the one making everyone sick. Is he giving me the power of choice over this, too? That if I said no, he’d willfully infect everyone he could?
…and I realize that yes, that is exactly the situation. Because he doesn’t care about any of them. They’re not people to him, just pieces on some sort of big chessboard. My heart hurts with the realization. All of this and he still doesn’t get it. I turn to Omos. “Of course not. Kalos won’t hurt anyone. We simply want to be left in peace.”
“Then I welcome the company.” He beams at us.
My smile in return feels weak. It’s like I’m failing Kalos with every step we take. How do I get through to him? Isn’t that my job? Not only to be at his side but to make him realize that people matter? Yet he cares more for his goat than an entire continent of people.
How do I get through to him? Can I even get through to him?
Chapter
Twenty-Six
After I eat an embarrassing amount of food, the fatigue of the day sets in and I yawn, and yawn. Omos finds blankets for me and makes up one of the cots scattered about the large library. “I’m afraid there’s only one private chamber and I’ve filled it with bits and bobs. Is this all right for tonight? I can clean it out tomorrow and make it ready for you and Lord Kalos.”
“This is perfect, and no need for you to displace yourself,” I reassure him as he hands me a fluffy goose-down pillow that makes me want to weep with joy. “Thank you so much.”
Eventually he finishes cleaning his tiny kitchen and heads to bed, and I’m left alone in the main room with Kalos. He hasn’t moved from his seat by the now-dying fire, legs sprawled. He’s flipping through an entirely different book, his expression just as bored as it was when we arrived.
I’m uneasy at his lack of enthusiasm for our surroundings. Omos has been so kind and I’m ashamed how much of his cheese and bread I ate without offering a penny of recompense. Kalos might think that being served is his divine right, but I am all too acutely aware of how much hard work making food like that entails, and I feel guilty. Not guilty enough to not eat, of course. Even after the fire goes out, however, I can’t sleep. My mind won’t turn off despite the quiet darkness.