but I suppose it's good to have a plan instead of waiting for someone to come find us.
Omos scuttles back and forth between his books and his kitchen, packing supplies for us. Even though he doesn't have much, he's determined to give all of it away, and I'm touched by his willingness to give us everything he's got.
Me, I get a crash course on Aosian money so I don't hand over our life savings, and I'm currently trying to memorize what I can of the gods in this world so I won't be so completely and utterly unaware.
"You can't stay here long," he tells us. "As much as I am thoroughly enjoying this, it wouldn't be prudent." And it is clear to me that he is enjoying all of this, oddly enough. His eyes gleam with excitement, and I suspect if the guy enjoyed this any more, he might burst into giggles. It's bizarre to realize that he's thriving on our misfortune, but he doesn't mean it in a cruel way.
I think he's lonely and bored and loves the thrill of excitement that our visit has brought. Of course he does. He's not the one in danger.
The moment I think that, I feel guilty. Omos has been the most helpful person we've run into so far. We'd truly be lost without him. He's even emptying out his little coin purse to give us money so we won't be in danger of starving on the streets. He probably doesn't have many visitors here in his sea of books. This is probably the most thrilling thing that's happened to him, ever.
"When we leave, why don't you come with us?" I suggest to Omos, ignoring the indignant look that Aron shoots my way as he pages through one of the monk's jillions of rolls of maps. "We can travel slow, and we can go looking for your goddess. I bet you'd want to say hello to her."
"Oh, all the stars, bless you for thinking of me, my dear." Omos just shakes his head at me and wraps cheese in a cloth, stuffing it in a bag. "You don't need this old man slowing you down."
"He is right," Aron says, unrolling another map. "He would be a burden."
I ignore Aron, because, well, he's Aron. "Yes, but you could meet your goddess. I wouldn't take that away from you. This is your one chance. I mean, how many Anticipations will there be in your lifetime?"
"Oh, no more, I sincerely hope," Omos says good-naturedly. "It is a time of great upheaval. It means there are problems to be found everywhere and the world will be a very dangerous place for some time. And…" He pauses and then gives me a gentle smile. "I do not wish to meet my goddess."
"You don't?"
"As she is? No." He runs a weathered hand down one of his braids. "I do not know which of the four flaws would be the least problematic to meet." His face colors, and I can guess which flaw he's thinking of.
Aron snorts. "It would take more than a bit of hedonism to make Magra interesting."
"Nevertheless, I would prefer to meet her when she is whole and she is herself. I will meet her when I cross over from this life and journey to her arms." Omos gives us a peaceful, sweet smile. "I am content to wait."
"Makes sense," I tell him, and flip another page I haven't read. I'm supposed to be studying a text on the Aosian gods, but my eyes are crossing with all the information they're trying to stuff into me. "Do you want to send a message with us, then? In case we run into her?"
"Oh." A look of pure longing crosses the monk's weathered face. His hands flutter over his braids. "Could I?"
"Dude, of course. I don't think we should leave until morning, anyhow. Take your time. Write her something heartfelt."
His eyes shimmer with emotion and he grabs his candle. He raises a finger as if to say something, then shakes his head and shuffles off. I can hear paper rustling at one of the back desks and I suspect that by morning, we'll have a small book of our own to give to Magra…provided we even find her.
Aron just shakes his head at me, his mouth pulled into a frown of distaste.
I stick my tongue out at him and go back to my book. I don't care what he thinks. Just because he's arrogance personified doesn't mean I have