“It isn’t Balsingra,” Kalos says.
“It’s not?” I eye the map as if its betrayed me. “Did we take a wrong turn?”
“The map isn’t going to show every settlement,” he tells me in a scathing voice. “Do you think my world has only a handful of cities in it like the map shows?”
Oh. “Well…no. I don’t know. How the hell would I know? I’m not from here!”
“Well, it doesn’t. This town isn’t big enough to warrant being included on the map. I suppose you’ll want to go anyhow?” His tone is full of irritation, as if the very idea of visiting this town seems like a pain in the ass.
“It might not be a bad idea. As long as we keep a low profile, we could resupply and buy some weapons. Maybe some things that make camping easier. You’ll have to make sure you don’t kill anyone though.”
Kalos narrows his eyes at me, not liking the reminder about the fisherman he nuked. “If we must. Dingle is almostout of feed, after all.”
I like that he brings up the goat’s needs and not mine. Classy. “Then it’s settled. We’ll head in, get what we need, and head back out again.”
“To Balsingra?” he gives me an annoyed look. “What’s so special about that particular city that we must go there?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just that your other Aspect already passed through. I’m hoping they won’t think to backtrack to find us.”
“Mm.” Kalos doesn’t look convinced, but he shrugs. “You’re in charge.”
“That’s right,” I say brightly. “Let’s just keep going and stick with the plan.”
We step out onto the dirt road that winds through the farms and head towards the little settlement. It’s a town of maybe two hundred houses and it’s busy and bustling. Ahead of us, a woman is driving a few sheep forward with well-timed swats of a stick. There’s a woman with a basket on her back and what looks like a bundle of firewood. As we get closer to the center of town, I notice there’s a rickety wooden bridge over a muddy steam, and by the sides of the stream, women gather and pound their laundry against stones. They people-watch as we cross the bridge, and I get uneasy as I realize I’m carrying our pack and Dingle’s lead, and Kalos is carrying nothing.
People are going to ask questions. Hell, if I saw a woman carrying everything and the man next to her chilling out, I’d ask questions too.
I keep a bright, sunny smile on my face as I turn to Kalos. “I’m going to need you to either take the pack or take Dingle’s lead.”
His lip curls. “Why?”
“Because we need a cover story and we don’t want people noticing us.” I hold Dingle’s lead out to him since Ifigure he’d probably rather do that. For some reason, he really likes the goat.
Kalos continues to give me that lemon-sour look. “I don’t care if anyone notices us. They’re just peasants.”
“A lot of peasants,” I agree, shaking the lead at him. “And some of the worst things in history happened due to normal people panicking. Just take the goat, all right?”
He rolls his eyes and acts put upon, but he eventually takes the lead from me and lets Dingle tug him forward, lurching. The goat heads for anything and everything that looks interesting (or edible), and Kalos shoots me another withering look as I have to jog in my battered sandals to keep up with him. The straps on them are breaking and stretched out, but it beats being barefoot. The travelers around us have worn boots that look to be leather, and their clothing has several more layers than ours, most notably a dull, utilitarian-looking cloak. I mentally take notes of things we need to get in town.
Food. Drink. Weapons. Cloaks. Better shoes.
The bridge creaks as we move over it, and ahead, I see a few carts of merchants selling wares and a booth with goods spread out on the ground. The sellers eye the people walking through town avidly, looking for someone to push their wares on.
“If anyone asks, we’re a married couple on a pilgrimage,” I add, moving over to his side and touching his arm. It can’t hurt to flesh out our story. “We want to see a god and left our coastal village because we heard it was the Anticipation.”
He pauses and looks down at my hand on his sleeve.
“Shit. Sorry.”
“You touch me a great deal,” he comments, his tone mild. “I am not averse to it, but I do wonder at the meaning behind it. Why?”
WhydoI keep touching him? “I guess it’s habit. Back homeI lived with my brother, so to get his attention, I might touch his arm. Or if we’re in a busy place, you might not hear a person call your name, so you touch their arm. I keep forgetting that you’re Lord Infection, though. I won’t do it again.”
He huffs. “Lord Infection, indeed. And… I didn’t say I minded it. I was just confused, that’s all. Do as you please.”
“I don’t want you to give me the plague?—”
Kalos shoots me a dirty look. “If I give you the plague, it’s intentional.”
