her? I suggested freeing her and you'd think I was talking about execution."
He grunts. "Give her to the soldiers?"
I blanch. "Aron, no. She's a person. She just makes poor choices. Or maybe she didn't have choices. Either way, she doesn't have to service anyone if she doesn't want to. Let her figure out that she doesn't have to earn a living on her back and maybe she'll choose a different way."
Aron just arches an eyebrow at me, clearly disagreeing.
Sheesh. I reach out to swat at him. "Be nice. I didn't want to be a slave handed off to men. Why would I wish that on someone else?" Even if she thinks she should be servicing Aron right about now?
"And the soldiers? Any plans for them?" Aron murmurs, his voice taking on a more intimate tone. "Assuming they will not prove themselves, that is."
Ugh. I'm not sure I like the idea of riding around with a posse. It's very different from how Aron and I have been traveling so far, and it feels very…conspicuous. It might be safer, but I just don't know. I feel like everything's going to change. Then again, everything already has. Aron can't speak without spouting lies, and when I close my eyes, I can't stop seeing Bad Aron bent over Yulenna. Bad Aron grabbing Yulenna’s hips. Yulenna squealing as he drives into her. "We'll see," I tell him. "We're stuck with them for now, I guess. If we can't get along, we can always dump them at the closest city if they slow us down."
"Novoro," he agrees, and then reaches down to pull the blankets up to my chin again. "You must not sleep, Faith. I won't watch over you."
I smile up at him. "You won't, huh?" I tease, unable to resist, and my heart flutters just a little when his mouth curves in a hint of a smile. If nothing else, I like that I can make him smile. Lord knows we have little enough to smile about lately, what with being hunted down and chased out of every place we stop. Maybe we're safer with a posse after all…provided they don't betray us.
The thought makes my soul ache. Is there no one Aron can trust to not screw him over but me? Poor Aron. How are the gods supposed to learn anything on this little test the High Father sent them on? They're too busy being attacked by the power hungry.
Unless the only thing they're supposed to learn is humility. Then, I'd say this is working fantastic.
But it makes me worry for Aron all the more. I lie back down and turn on my side, but when I close my eyes, this time, I don't see Aron and Yulenna humping. I see the other Aron, his hand on my throat, close enough to kiss…and just fading away into nothing.
There's a one in four chance—now one in three—that my Aron's going to have the same fate. The thought makes me sick. I reach over and grab Aron's hand, pulling him forward. "Lie down in bed with me," I tell him. "I know you won't sleep, but I'll feel safer with you close."
For a moment, I expect biting sarcasm or even a flurry of lies. Instead, Aron just lies down next to me, sliding under the blankets. I don't mind that he's got his boots on or that he's fully dressed, because he puts his arm around my waist and tucks me close against him, and that familiar electric shock jolts through me and then settles away. I breathe in his scent and feel his warmth, and some of the worry relaxes.
But only some. I put my hand over his at my waist, holding him closer. "Promise me everything will be all right," I whisper. "That we've got this handled."
"I promise," Aron murmurs.
Yeah, that was kind of what I figured.
The next morning, there’s a thick, honey-laced porridge simmering over the fire, and I watch the others eat, stomach rumbling, until I’m sure that it’s not poisoned and this isn’t a trap. Then, I help myself to a bowl. And then another. And a third, because their supplies are far better than the ones we have.
The soldiers watch me scarf down the food quietly, and when I make myself a fourth bowl, the one called Markos has a look of disbelief on his face. “You can eat all that?” He glances at Aron, unsure, but when he’s not struck by lightning for talking to me, he turns