when I see the large, guarded portcullis, I breathe a sigh of relief. Almost there.
It looks the same as it did when I first saw it, the walls tall and made of smooth river stone mortared together. The portcullis is another iron gate, this one big enough to let two elephants through, side by side. Two guards stand on each side of the gate. Four people. Not a problem.
“That’s the south gate,” I tell Aron unnecessarily. “That’s the way out of the city. From there, it leads through the Dirtlands and toward Katharn.” I mean, I don’t have a map, but I’m guessing that’s how it’ll go. If it doesn’t, we’ll pivot and figure something out from there. Any place that’s not “here” works for me.
Aron pauses and we both stop. I realize I’m still clinging to his arm and I let go, and for some reason, I feel a sense of loss. Maybe because those tiny electric shocks aren’t rippling through me any longer. He fingers the sword at his belt. “It’s guarded.”
“That’s easily handled,” I tell him, sounding more confident than I feel. “We’ll bribe them to let us out. I’ve seen it done before.” In the movies, but hey. He doesn’t need to know that. I pause and dig through my coin pouch, pulling out a few of the smaller, more valuable coins and clutching them tight. Pretty sure that bribing the guards might just bankrupt us, but we’re low on options and can’t stick around to see what happens by day. We need to be out of this city before the prelate realizes that Aron’s escaped, because something tells me that if he finds out that the god is gone, he’s going to do his best to make Aron disappear entirely.
And I have a sneaking suspicion that my fate is now tied to his in all kinds of bad, bad ways.
As we get closer to the gate, I can see even in the dark that the two men guarding each side are armed. I would really prefer to just deal with one easily bribed guard, but if this is what I have to deal with, so be it. I’m just ready to leave Aventine and all its issues behind.
Time to be brave and get shit done.
12
We get closer to the gate and I can see that despite the massive portcullis that blocks the way out, there’s a smaller wrought-iron door that only needs to be opened by one person. I guess that’s for bottlenecking travel, but either way, it’s encouraging. Opening one small door is an easier bribe than opening the whole massive gate. I turn to Aron and his hood is almost back from his face, his skin and strange eyes practically glowing white in the moonlight.
Yeah, he’s going to stand out like a sore thumb. I move closer to him and tug his hood back over his too-handsome features, hiding them. “Keep this shit hidden.”
“You act as if my face is a problem. I am handsome enough to suit any.”
“Handsomeness isn’t the issue, and wow, arrogant much?” I pull it down just a little further, because I can see the edge of his scar when he turns his face, and it’s a dead giveaway. “You’re pale as hell and you stand out in a crowd. Until we get on the road, you need to pretend like you’re a leper and keep that shit under wraps.”
“A what?”
“A leper. You guys don’t have lepers? You have every other stupid medieval thing I can think of.” Actually, I’m not sure if this culture—Aventinian? Aventini?—is more Roman than Medieval. For every castle-like building, there are dudes in linen kilts and sandals. I guess it doesn’t matter. We’re leaving. “Diseased dudes. Whatever.”
He recoils. “You want them to think I’m diseased? That I am Kalos?”
The outrage in his tone would probably make my hair straighten if I was afraid of him. I still am, but I’m more afraid of what the prelate is up to. I can deal with one cranky god who’s also pretty damn helpless. I can’t deal with an entire city full of assassins.
“No, I just don’t want them to realize you’re you,” I tell him impatiently. “Can we just get on with this? Keep your hood up and let me do the talking.”
“Fine,” Aron snarls, and he doesn’t sound pleased. Too bad for him.
I eye the guards at the gate. They’re staring at us now, probably because we’ve stopped in the road in the middle of