“You’re spreading plague about the city. Dozens of Lord Gental’s followers are down with a sickness. You need to leave.”
My jaw drops. I turn to look over at Kalos, but he continues to stare out the window, his expression bland. “We wouldn’t do that?—”
“Not on purpose, but he’s either Apathy or Arrogance, and that means he’d do it inadvertently because he doesn’t care. Either that or he’s Lies and you’re not telling the truth.”
My jaw snaps shut. “Apathy,” I mumble after a moment. I’m horrified that our excursion yesterday has caused people to get sick. “He’s Apathy.”
“Exactly,” the man says, his voice muffled through the scarf. “He doesn’t care who he gets sick, and Lord Gental loves his people. He doesn’t want you two around, so we’re asking nicely that you leave.Nicely.”
The way he repeats the word “nicely” makes me think thatif we don’t agree to leave, we’ll be given the not-nice route of leaving. “We’ll go,” I say. “We don’t want any trouble. We just came here to get supplies.”
He holds the bag out. “Supplies.”
I take it from him and stagger under the weight of it. “Thanks.”
“Make sure you rein him in as you leave. Lord Gental would be most displeased if his people died at his celebrations.”
As if I can rein in a god? I nod, watching as the guards finger their swords again before the group turns to leave. I nudge the door shut and lean against it, the heavy bag like a lead weight in my arms. I eye Kalos. “Did you infect anyone while we were out there?”
He shrugs, turning away from the window to glance at me. “Not deliberately.”
It’s not a denial. People truly don’t matter to him, then. I’m disappointed but not surprised. “Get your things,” I say dully. “We’ll leave and head for Balsingra as soon as we pack up.”
Chapter
Seventeen
We approach the infamous walls of Balsingra nearly a week later.
I’m relieved at the sight, even if the walls look far more forbidding and unfriendly than I’d hoped. Balsingra reminds me of a castle with its extremely tall gray ramparts, but not in a friendly, inviting sort of fairy-tale way. Rather, it looks unapproachable and forbidding, even though the roads leading to it are flat and open, and people flock in the direction of the city from all around.
It’s been a long and awkward journey, and I’m ready to rest for a while. Since we were ran out of Gental’s town, I didn’t get a chance to get better shoes. Mine have almost fallen to pieces, and only a few strategic knots in the leather of my sandals keep them from disintegrating entirely. My dress isn’t much better, but I did find a couple of yellow cloaks in the supply pack we were given, and I’ve huddled in one all week as the skies have rained down on us.
This world really loves to get me muddy.
Worse than the mud and the travel is the fact that thingsare awkward between me and Kalos. Not that they’ve ever been great, of course. He’s prickly and hard to get to know even at the best of times, and quick to say something cutting. But…at least when he’s being cutting he talks to me. He’s fallen into one of his fugue states since we left and stares out at nothing. He doesn’t move unless I nudge him, and he doesn’t talk at all. It’s like escorting a mannequin around the countryside.
It sucks.
When he finally comes to himself again, he’s cranky and short with me. I suspect he dislikes his fugues as much as I do, and so his mood kills any conversation we might have had. We don’t talk about the kiss. I tried to apologize a few times the first day back on the roads and was met with a resentful stare, so I gave up. He must hate that I kissed him. I’m just a lowly human, after all. He probably thinks I gave him cooties.
Nah, he’s the god of disease. He’d like cooties.
That kiss has changed things between us, though. Before, our relationship was more businesslike. He was my responsibility, and I was his escort. Now, thanks to my lips touching his, the doors have been blown off the situation. When I look at him, I don’t think of him as a job.
I think about how his lips felt, how strong his hand was as it gripped my waist.
I think about what would have happened if I hadn’t shocked him. If he’d actually leaned into my kiss instead of pulling away.
That kiss has proven to me that I’m wildly attracted to Kalos, even if I’ve been trying to deny it. I should let it go. I shouldn’t be thinking about what-ifs because he isn’t interested.
I can’t let it go, though. I just keep thinking about it. Every time he presses his lips together, it takes everything I have notto stare and wonder what those lips would feel like against mine.
Having an unrequited crush is making things incredibly awkward.
We passthrough a few decent-sized little towns, but I’m wary of lingering after what happened with Gental’s people. I can’t stop thinking about how I’d forgotten all my duties and frolicked in the streets like an absolute idiot. I’m ashamed that I’m so susceptible. I didn’t even realize I’d let hedonism get to me until Kalos pointed it out. What if it had been a less benign god? A less benign Aspect?
We’d be dead.
