I’m learning a lot about myself and maybe Aron’s not the only one that had a touch of arrogance that needed to be eradicated. I hug her close, determined to be a better friend.
Vitar builds a fire in the center of the road, and then small folding stools are produced for me and Aron. Aron—who hasn’t lifted a finger—immediately sits and pulls me into his lap. I don’t even protest. It’s too cold, and he’s far too warm. I wrap my cloak around both of us and snuggle close. His big hand closes over my inner thigh, and for a moment, my girl parts get excited, thinking they’re about to get more attention. But all he does is hold me, one hand splayed over my lower back.
And really, it’s kind of nice to just cuddle.
Yulenna stands near the fire until Markos grabs the stool and indicates she should sit. She does gratefully, putting her hands out toward the flame for warmth. Kerren puts a pouch of water over the fire to boil, adding vegetables and hunks of dried meat as he goes. I notice Solat avoids Aron (and me), and he’s unusually quiet. Poor Solat.
Vitar crouches near the fire, putting his hands out. “Never thought the edge of the world would be so cold.”
“You thought it would be warm?” Kerren asks, surprised.
“No, of course not. Just…not quite like this. My balls are about to shrivel into coins.” He glances over at me. “Apologies.”
I just shrug. I like hearing the conversations, because it lets me glean more about this place that I’ve landed. Aron’s not much help since he’s as much a stranger here as I am. “So this is the edge of the world? Really?”
“Of course not. Mortals are fools,” Aron murmurs into my ear.
“It is not,” Markos says, nudging Vitar as he crouches next to him. “We’re simply far north. That’s all.”
“Edge of the world,” Vitar says again. “And we’re heading to the edge of time, where the spiders dwell. Just like the stories say.”
Solat snorts.
“It’s true,” Vitar protests. “When you were a boy, didn’t your mam tell you stories about the gods of time that lived in a tower made of webs and rode spiders? Who could kill with a jerk of a thread? And how if you step on a spider, you have to apologize to the Spidae so they don’t remove you from the weave?”
“Children’s stories,” Markos protests.
Vitar tilts his head. “You mean like the Anticipation?”
No one answers him.
Vitar turns to Aron. “Is it true, my lord? You would have the answers.”
“To which question?” Aron’s hand smooths up and down my back under my cloak, and I’m two seconds away from purring with pleasure. It should not be this delicious to be cradled in a man’s lap, damn it.
“Is it the edge of the world, truly?” Kerren asks, his eyes wide. “Will we fall off the edge?”
“No edge,” Aron says, his focus on my face and not theirs. “But the Spidae do exist. That’s where we are headed even now.”
“I knew it,” Vitar crows, launching to his feet. He stabs a finger at Markos. “I knew they weren’t just tales!”
“You’re pleased that we’re to meet spider gods?” Markos gives him an incredulous look, batting away Vitar’s finger.
“They really are spider gods?” I ask Aron, surprised. I remember Omos’s scrolls, but only vaguely, and I remember something about a triad of fates, but not that they rode spiders. I’m pretty sure I would have remembered something as creepy as that.
“They are not spiders. Just like I am not made of lightning and thunder is not my displeasure.” His mouth curls with derision.
I say nothing to that. Does Aron not realize it thunders every time he gets pissy? It’s the easiest way for me to tell his mood. He’s so oblivious sometimes. Still, I’m glad they’re not spider gods, because I’m really not a fan of insects. “So we’re visiting them. Are they expecting us?”
“Does it matter? They will know where my other Aspects are. I intend to find out what they know. Gain the advantage over my foes.” His fingers slide lower, stroking over my backside, even as the fingers on my thigh move slightly, grazing my skin in the most ticklish way. “We will find where my other Aspects hide and take our fight to them.”
“Without an army,” I point out.
“How quietly do you think we can move with an army?” Aron asks, amused. “And as the god of battle, I know which warriors I want