Apathy or not, I’ve realized I very much want to live.
We pass through towns at night and sleep on the roadside when it grows light. We’re not the only pilgrims on the roads, either. All over there are travelers on foot or on the backs of the heavy beasts of burden that they call woales. They all seem to be heading in the same direction, which concerns me.
“You think everyone is headed to Balsingra?” I ask Kalos at one point.
“Does it matter?”
“It could if there’s another Aspect there,” I point out.
“We’re going there specifically because one was already there, if I recall. That was the grand plan.”
I chew on my lip, considering. “I’m just second-guessing everything now.”
He flicks an annoyed glance my way. “Should we go live in a cave on the hillside? Hide under rocks until we get the all-clear?”
“Jeez, forget I asked.” I forget how cutting he can be whenhe wants to be a dick, and right now he clearly wants to be a dick.
We head onward and eventually approach the gates of Balsingra. It looks a bit like one of those nesting dolls, except with walls. The city has high, forbidding stone walls that loom over the countryside, with a large gate and a road leading up to it. The people spread out on the roads are funneled into groups near the gates, waiting to get in. There are men in armor with some sort of banner who are checking people as they enter. My belly clenches, and I hope they’re not looking for aspects. I slow my steps, letting others move ahead of us, and grab Kalos’s sleeve so he’ll stay at my side.
He turns to look at me, eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
“I just want to hang back a little,” I whisper. “Hear what they’re asking people. See if we need to run.”
“And go where?”
“That cave on the hillside you mentioned, maybe,” I hiss, then indicate with a finger to my lips that he should be silent. He huffs, but I can’t tell if the sound is amusement or annoyance.
I pull my pack to my front and dig through it, pretending to look for the fantasy-world version of my wallet. “I know it’s in here someplace,” I mumble helpfully, and let others pass in front of us as I pretend to search, rustling my near-empty pack. Our food supplies are almost gone, and the few dull knives I managed to steal from the inn are already tucked into the front of my tunic.
Touching the wooden branch inside the pack, I ponder if I should drag it out. It’s about the length of my lower arm and about as thick, and I figured that if nothing else, I could use it as a club. Kalos was skeptical that I could defend us with it, but I’d rather go down fighting than justgive up.
“State your business,” one guardsman says to the people in front of us.
“Market,” the man says, and they shuffle on through, baskets in hand.
“State your business,” the guardsman says to the next man.
“I’m a traveler,” he says, a hood over his head. I can’t see what he looks like. “Going to stay at an inn and pay my respects at the temples.”
The guard puts a hand on his chest to stop him.
I swear my heart nearly jumps out ofmychest. I clutch at Kalos’s arm. This is it. We’ve been found out and now we’re going to have to run. Kalos just sighs heavily and grabs my hand in his, holding it. He gives it a slight squeeze and releases it.
Was that…reassurance? Or is he trying to tell me something?
“Hold, friend,” the guardsman is saying to the traveler. “Pull back your hood. We need to see if you’ve the plague.”
“Plague?” the man bellows, even as he lowers his hood.
The guard grimaces. “Not so loud. We’re only checking. There’s a district in the city that’s been touched by the Vulture God’s hand, though he’s no longer in residence. Avoid the marked doors and you’ll be fine.” He eyes the man’s face and nods, gesturing. “You can go on through.”
“Not sure I want to, now,” the man mutters, but he heads in anyhow.
Plague. There was plague here.
Of course there was. Kalos was here, and the other Aspect probably leaked plague like a leaky sieve whenever he got moody. Even so, it’s not something I considered, and for a moment, I’m utterly overwhelmed. Why was I picked for this task when it’s obvious I don’t know anything about this world? I don’t know what to be on guard for. I’m useless.
I’m going to fail, and it’s going to be purely because I don’t know what I’m getting into. Despair threatens to overwhelm me, and I swallow hard to fight back the knot in my throat. Shit. Fuck. Damn.
