Because everyone wants us dead. I know this, but the realization I won’t get to see my pet again feels like a fresh wound. I’m determined not to cry, even though it fills me with an aching sadness. Dingle’s been with me every step of the way and losing him feels like the first step towards the grave.
We make it to the trees without anyone following us. They might be watching us from afar, but every time I look back on the road, it remains empty. Stepping off the road, we go cross-country through the tangle of brush. The trees are stubby here and grow close together, and my already tattered clothing rips and tears like it’s paper. There’s a dip of earth in a dry creek-bed and Kalos climbs down, then offers me his hand to help me down next to him.
He closes his eyes, turning his head as if searching for something, and nods. “I don’t feel anyone nearby. We’ll hide out here overnight and figure out our next move without Belara’s priestesses breathing down our necks.”
I sit down in a pile of leaves and hug my knees close. Kalos sits right next to me and puts his arm around me. “Cold?”
“I’m okay.” It’s warm in the sunlight and chillier in the shadows. It’s not so bad right now but I’m trying not to thinkabout what it’s going to feel like if we stay out here overnight. The colder fall weather is on its way and I’m annoyed that I didn’t think to bring my cloak with me. Then again, this was supposed to be a day trip. I nudge Kalos. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know what to think,” he admits, rubbing my arm as if to warm it. “Two aspects of lies working together is troublesome. The fact that it’s Belara working alongside myself concerns me.”
I feel sick. “Do you think they reconciled?”
The look on his face is appalled. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t take her back if she begged me. It’s more that they’re mutually using each other and pretending to reconcile. Given that they’re both Lies, this seems likely.”
A small part of me wonders if he’s saying that simply because he’s Apathy. Would a less apathetic god be far more interested in a beautiful goddess showing renewed interest? Even if she’s known to be a liar? I can’t help but wonder, and it scares me. I can’t compete with a goddess.
Then again, it’s not even a competition. After the Anticipation is over, Kalos will return to his plane and I’ll be dead. If Belara wants him, she can scoop him back up again.
I can’t think about that right now, because it’ll make me crazy. “Okay, let’s think about a plan. What can we do? We have to assume he’s coming to force a confrontation.”
He grunts. “No one likes these Anticipations. I can imagine he wants to get it over with.” His hand finds mine, his fingers twining with my cold ones. “He doesn’t have a reason to stay.”
Maybe he does, my brain offers up cattily, and it’s Belara. Maybe he’s coming to make a different sort of deal. But I don’t say that aloud. “His Anchor is going to try and kill me. Obviously, I don’t want that to happen, so we need weapons of some kind so I can defend myself.”
“I can defend you,” Kalos offers.
He’d be a better shield than most, considering he’s immortal, but when he exerts himself too hard, he enters his fugue state. It’s like he’s fighting against being Apathy and the curse of his Aspect catches up with him and makes him suffer for it. “You need to go and have a conversation with your Aspect. A parlay, if you will. Find out what he wants. See if you can determine who his Anchor is.”
“So we can kill him?”
The thought of killing someone simply because of who they’re serving doesn’t sit well with me, and I swallow hard. I don’t know why I’m squeamish now—when we broke out of Seth’s keep, Kalos killed dozens of soldiers. But that was different, in a way. It was heat of the moment. They were openly electing to work with a bad guy. The Anchor of the god of disease is…well, someone just like me.
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.
