I shake my head. “The sooner we get to the Dirtlands, the better.” The sooner we get him to a no-magic zone, the better. Everyone’s safer in that situation.
“You know we won’t get there tomorrow,” he points out.
“I know.”
“It’s fine if we take a break and wait for the weather to pass.” He glances up at the sky. “Seth won’t be going anywhere in this. He has a lot of mounted troops and this will be impossible for them to navigate. They won’t catch up to us if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I’m not worried about Seth. Okay, I am a little, but I’m more concerned about Kalos causing others to be sick just byhis proximity. Hasn’t he made me sick accidentally every time he’s used his powers? It just makes sense to steer clear of civilization. “I know it won’t be today, or even tomorrow.”
“Or even a week from now. There’s a lot of road between Balsingra and the Dirtlands.”
I fight back a whimper and put a cheery smile on my face. “And every day that we push is a bit more travel we’ve conquered. I don’t mind if we keep going.”
Kalos grabs my arm. “I mind.”
That makes me pause. I study his face, worried. He’s been quiet. I don’t know anything about gods and what if he’s sick and masking it? What if Seth did something to him? “Are you all right? Do you feel well?”
“I’m fine. But I don’t want to continue in this rain. It’s miserable and Dingle smells foul.” He gestures at the little goat. Instead of his usual charming antics, Dingle is trudging alongside us, as if the weather is beating him down, too. “We should find an inn and lay low for a few days to recover. You’re still not feeling well.”
An inn. “With what money?”
He wipes streaming rainwater from his face and flicks his fingers. “There’s an easy fix for that.”
Oh, I just bet there is. “I don’t want an easy fix, Kalos.”
“I figured you wouldn’t, but I thought I’d suggest it anyhow.” He glances over at me. “We could just rob someone. No one gets hurt that way.”
“I appreciate the brainstorming, but we’re not robbing anyone, either. I don’t want us to turn out like Seth and Margo, all right?” I keep smiling, even though it becomes more difficult when my foot sinks down into even more mud.
Kalos offers me a hand. I take it and realize he’s no longer holding Dingle’s lead. The leash drags through the mud and dirt after the goat, who continues to trot at oursides like a well-trained dog. I make a sound of protest as I spot it. “Don’t worry about him,” Kalos says, as if reading my mind. “He likes it with us. He’s not going anywhere.”
“We should still hold onto his leash, just in case.”
“You worry too much, Elsie.”
Someone has to. The Aspect of Apathy doesn’t worry enough, as far as I’m concerned. “Worrying keeps us safe.”
“I don’t think worrying will do much against assassins,” he comments. “Or poison.”
“Neither of which are on the road with us at the moment, so I’ll stick to worrying, thank you very much.”
He chuckles and gives my hand another squeeze before he lets it go. “I don’t know how you stand being a mortal. Being this wet and muddy is disgusting. I’m positive this is a storm sent by the High Father to humble me.”
I glance over at him, amused. The sourer my mood gets, the brighter his becomes. For some reason, it makes me feel better to see him cheery, even if he’s focused on abandoning our trek. “Is it working? Are you humble?”
“I might look humble, but that’s all.” He flicks a bit of mud off his cloak. “His storms do nothing to me. I don’t care about them.”
“You’re Apathy, you’re not supposed to care about anything.”
“Exactly.” He gives me a reluctant smile that steals my breath, as if we’re sharing a secret between us. “Can I tell you something, Elsie?”
“Of course.” My stomach feels full of nerves. Is this what butterflies in the stomach feel like? All jittery? What’s he going to say? Is he going to confess love for me? Tell me how he’s recanted his ways now that I’ve put my foot down? Spill all his secrets about the whole Belara thing?
“We should get off the road soon. There’s a village farther up.”
Oh. Or we could talk about villages, I guess. I don’t know why I’m disappointed. I glance up ahead, but between the steaming ground and the steady drench of rain, visibility is nil. “How can you tell?”
“I can feel them. Pockets of humanity have a throb to them that every god feels.”
