swallow hard, averting my eyes. I am not going to creep on him. Not at all. I'm certainly not going to think about that evening at Tadekha's Citadel when I was all over him and his hands were between my thighs. No siree. "How about you get in here and wash them yourself?"
"You are my servant, remember?"
"Answer's still no. You need me alive, remember? We're equals as far as I'm concerned."
He gives an arrogant little huff of a laugh that I choose to ignore. When he tosses his clothes down at me, I immediately wad them up and toss them back at him, which makes Aron laugh. "I like your spirit, little mortal."
"Good, because you're gonna be seeing a lot of it," I mutter, and climb, shivering, out of the water. It's getting colder by the hour and my clothes aren't much in the way of warmth. "Can we build a fire?"
"And draw attention to ourselves? Should we just go lie in the road, spread eagle, and wait for them to step upon us—"
"A simple 'no' would suffice," I tell him, interrupting. "You don't have to be such a dick every time I say something, you know." But I know that's who he is. He's arrogance incarnate. I just have to remind myself of that. "Enjoy washing your own clothes," I say pointedly, and huddle on the banks.
He just smirks at me as if I'm a constant source of amusement and wades into the water, groin-high. Of course, that calls a lot of attention to his godly equipment, and I pointedly avoid looking in that direction as he half-heartedly swipes at his clothing in the water. "Fear not, Faith. The sun will be up soon enough and I will keep you warm until then."
"Goody."
Aron continues on. "We will journey to the next town and get a map and mounts for the next leg of our trip. I imagine that the Spidae's tower will not be anywhere near the mortal lands, so we must prepare for a long journey." He doesn't sound upset. If anything, he sounds pleased, like this is a road trip and he's having a blast.
I'm glad one of us is having such a good time. Me, I just want to collapse and cry like a child. It seems that every time I turn around, someone's trying to kill us—or just me—and this entire world feels like one big death trap. I want my quiet apartment back home. I want my boring desk job and my boring reruns on television. Did I think my life was humdrum and monotonous? Clearly I was insane. I have a new appreciation for “safe” and “boring” and “quiet.” I'd like any and all of those things.
I should have never visited that fortune teller.
King of Pentacles—a man like a force of nature? Try a god of storms.
A journey about to begin? Fucking understatement of the year.
Lovers? I shiver at the thought. I’m not sure if I hate it or want it so badly I ache.
I give myself a little shake and force myself to concentrate on what Aron’s saying. “A road trip needs lots of preparation, Aron.”
“I know. This is why we need mounts and supplies. Pay attention, Faith.”
"With what money? Unless Omos taught me wrong about your money, we have enough for an inn room or two but nothing big like that." I pull the tiny purse of coins off my belt and open it, counting the strange coins.
"We will steal woales if we need to."
“Woales?”
“The large creatures everyone rides upon?”
“The land-hippos? Okay.” I didn’t realize they had a name. Of course they do. “You sure we can’t just buy one?”
“You said yourself we have no money. We steal everything.” Aron thinks for a moment. "Supplies as well. Weapons, too. Might as well get everything we can."
"Are you serious? We're going to thieve our way to visit your buddies in their tower? Don't you think that's against the rules that the big guy set for you? You're supposed to be improving as a person, not turning to a life of crime." I get up and hang my sodden cloak from the nearest branch in the dark.
"Bah. The High Father wishes to purge my flaws, and thievery is not one of them. I am the god of storms and battle. If I cannot get what I need, I suppose I could always threaten to wash away their homes in a violent deluge. Or I can demand that they go to the field of