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 goingto 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 hoursof 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.
The mayor is located, and he’s of course thrilled to house both myself and Kalos. We’re led to a large manor off the plaza, with a fountained courtyard and ivy-covered walls. There are several charming windows made of bubbled glass, and the wooden door is carved with all kinds of swirling symbols. We head inside and meet the mayor’s family—his wife and two small boys—and we’re treated to a feast of food. Soup is followed by roast and fresh vegetables, and we’re served a fruit pie and several tarts afterward, all accompanied by cheese,bread, and a sweet wine. Kalos eats nothing, but I make up for that, eating twice as much as anyone else at the table. The mayor’s wife talks through the entire meal, not letting my silence deter her.
After the meal, even more people show up at the mayor’s door, wanting to see Kalos. My fatigue is obvious, and Kalos sends me upstairs with one of the maids. “Have a bath,” he says. “I’ll be up soon enough.”
A bath. God, that sounds incredible. And when I get up to the guest room and there’s a filled copper tub near the fireplace, I want to cry with joy. I don’t even care that the maid stays and scrubs my back and my hair for me. I’m too tired to protest, and it feels good to relax and let someone else handle things for a bit.
My head continues to throb, and I think of Omos and poor Dingle. We should send a message to the monk, let him know we’re all right. That we’ve won. That Kalos has defeated his other Aspect.
Won. Hah. Why hasn’t it sunk in that we’ve “won”? That we’ve accomplished our goal? That we’re victorious? Everything feels the same except I’m more tired than ever before. My eyes are so heavy that even the thought of dictating a message to one of the servants feels like too much work.
Tomorrow, I decide.
I crawl into bed, and I’m asleep before I pull the covers over myself.
Sometime later, I wake up to Kalos gently touching my shoulder. “Elsie?”
“Mm?” I sit up, and it’s like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m sotired. “What time is it?”
“It’s the middle of the night. I’d let you sleep, but Belara has shown up with her retinue and is insisting on speaking with me. I thought you might want to be there.”
I scrub a hand over my face. Count on Belara to decide on the most inconvenient time to visit ever. I’m sure it’s a calculated decision on her part. “I do. Give me a moment to wake up and I’ll join you.”
He studies my face, frowning. “You sure? You look exhausted. Is anything bothering you?”
“Just my head. Too many sneezes, I think.”
Kalos cups my cheek, stroking his thumb over my skin. A moment later, my headache disappears as if it never existed. “Say something if you’re in pain. I can fix it. Don’t you think I’d much rather tend to you than every single farmer from here to Yshrem?”
“I think it’s lovely that you’re tending to every farmer from here to Yshrem,” I tell him confidently. I take his hand in mine and curl our fingers together. “It’s very kind and it’s going to go a long way towards how people see you in the future.”
He taps a finger on the tip of my nose. “I don’t care how they see me. I haven’t in millennia.”
“And yet somehow you keep ending up on the wrong side of an Anticipation,” I joke. “It’s such a mystery how that keeps happening.”
Kalos chuckles. “Fair enough. Allow me to say that I only care about them because you care, hmm? That makes it much easier.” He looks me over again, his brows furrowing with slight concern. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Just tired. It’s been a hell of a day.” My throat locks up as I remember the terror from earlier. “I thought I’d killed the wrong person for a moment. Bad enough I had to kill the right one.”
