I’m wrapped in a blanket by my doting Kalos, and Omos hands me a warm cup of tea. “I am surprised to see you both. I thought for certain that once we’d heard news of Kalos’s victory that I’d never see either of you again. I am delighted to be proven wrong, of course, but still surprised.” He studies me and Kalos. “Is there aught amiss?”
“I’m dying,” I say.
Omos just blinks, then gestures that I should go on. He’s not fazed in the slightest by this admission, and I feel stupid. Of course I’m going to die. I’m hitched at a soul level with a god. I have to die for him to finish his journey. Even so, it should feel more momentous, shouldn’t it? It can’t just be a big deal to me.
“Drink your tea,” Kalos chides, touching my hand. He gives me another once-over look, as if making sure that I’m all right.
Okay, so it’s not just a big deal to me. I give him a soft smile and take a dutiful sip.
As I drink the tea, I tell Omos about everything that’s happened since we last saw him. I tell him about leaving the book with Metta and Varina, our journey to Eagleton and Narshire, the encounter with Liar-Kalos, Belara and herconcerns, and the news of my own sickness that I’ve been unwittingly hiding.
“We were going to come back and finish my book and maybe see what else we could do while we were here,” I say, watching as the monk feeds vegetable scraps to my goat. I want to hold Dingle but the warm mug in my hands feels too good. “Kalos was going to stay until I was ready, but I’m afraid that timeline has changed. Is it all right if we remain here tomorrow? We’ll be gone right after that. Both of us.”
Kalos reaches out and strokes my hair, his hand resting on my neck in quiet possession.
“Oh, my friend, you can stay as long as you like.” Omos gives me the kindest smile. “Only tell me what you need, and it’s yours. Those that help the gods during the Anticipation are selfless in their sacrifices. Whatever I can do to make your time here easier, it shall be done.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t finish my book. I really hoped it would be helpful to the locals.”
The monk brightens. “You know, I had a visitor earlier this morning. Metta from the village up the hill brought me some of her herbs she’d been growing in her garden and wanted to know the names of them. Said they matched some of the pictures in your book and demanded that I continue to work with her even if you can no longer finish the project. She was very determined.”
Metta’s going to finish my book? I beam at him, thrilled. “Really?”
“Oh yes. She told me someone had tried to steal it and the entire village chased the woman away with brooms. Your knowledge will make a difference.”
“Not my knowledge. It’s just knowledge that shouldn’t be gatekept. If they don’t have the opportunity to read the bookshere, or the learning, then we have to bring the knowledge to them.”
“Goddess Riekki would be pleased.”
Kalos makes a disgusted sound. “That pretentious creature. I doubt very much that she’d be pleased about any of this. Riekki prefers to hoard her knowledge. All the more reason for me to share mine, I suppose.”
I gaze up at Kalos, amused. If spite is what motivates him, then I’m fine with it.
“What now?” Omos asks. “What are your plans for now?”
“Sleep,” I admit. I would love to stay awake for a while but the exhaustion is coming over me like a heavy blanket. “Tomorrow, I would like to have a perfect day. Just relaxing and spending time with Kalos, and you, and Dingle. If that’s all right.”
Omos reaches out and touches my hand. “Whatever you need, of course. I am here to serve.”
Kalos says nothing. His thumb rubs the side of my neck, and I know he hates all the talk of how things are going to go. I know he hates how his hands are tied in regards to my fate.
He’s really going to fucking hate it when he finds out that I won’t be in the Afterlife here.
The next dayis everything I wanted.
We spread a blanket out in the grassy field and watch the goats frolic around us. Even though there’s been a cold bite to the weather lately, this day proves warm and delightful. There’s a tray of food for me to eat, but I find my appetite isn’t so great, and I end up giving most of it to the goats. They’re so cute in their joy as they nibble on cheeses and fruits that itmakes me laugh with delight. I lie in a nest of pillows, playing with Kalos’s fingers, and we lay beside each other and talk about nothing at all. We don’t discuss plans, or godhood, or anything important. We discuss freckles, and flowers, and if Dingle is going to grow a beard when he gets older, and what color bow it should have.
It’s the silliest conversation, but it makes me so happy.
Omos pauses in his chores to come and spend time with us for a while. I feel guilty that I’m too tired to help, but the monk will hear none of it. He chats with me about Metta, and what he plans to put in the book next. He’d like to go over stomach ailments and has a great store of dried mint and fennel seeds that he can share with the village. “I like the idea of someone coming over to visit and spend time at the monastery,” Omos says. “It can get lonely. The crystal pickers are slowing down now that there’s less for them to find, and my brothers haven’t returned. Having you both here these last few weeks has been delightful. I’ll miss you both greatly.”
“We’ll miss you, too,” I reply.
He glances over at Kalos, a brow arching. “We? You’ll miss me, my lord?”
Kalos just shrugs.
Omos laughs, delighted. “I’ll take that as a yes, my lord. Thank you both for spending your time with me.”
