Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
She smiles at me and points at the next drawing. “What’s this?”
“It’s the plant. This is what it looks like, and these little areas that are circled are the parts you want to use for your cure. The next page shows you how to prepare the plant once you’ve gathered it.” I’ve painstakingly drawn little hands dropping herbs into steaming pots, tiny kettles, and people drinking the results. I brace myself, waiting for her to tell me that these look wrong, too.
But Metta just grunts and flips to the next page. “There’s a lot of pictures here.”
“There will be, yes. This corner will show you the season for the plant,” I say, pointing at the terrible snowflake I’ve drawn. “If it’s the wrong season for this plant, you look for this next one here.” I flip to the next page and demonstrate the season, then the plant. “See?”
She turns to the next page, and the next. Her eyes grow wider. “These are all for headaches?”
I nod. “Among other things. But I’m trying to keep it simple. If you have a headache, you look here. If your stomach hurts, we’ll do a drawing of a man with…with a devil dancing on his belly. If it’s your throat—”
“Devil in your throat,” she finishes. She touches one of the drawings, fascinated.
“I want you to feel like you have control when someone’s sick,” I say. “So you feel like you can do more than just send up prayers and hope for the best. These won’t cure everything, but it’ll give you things to try so you don’t feel helpless. A lot of medicine is just knowing what tools to use.”
She gives me a sly look. “Does the god know you’re giving us all his secrets?”
“They’re not secrets, I promise you. All this information is available in books already. I’m just trying to make it easy for you to understand without having to learn how to read and write.”
“And the god is fine with this? You must have convinced him.”
What exactly does she think is going on between us? The smirk on her face tells me exactly what she thinks…and she’s not entirely wrong. I’m not fucking him for information, though. We’re not even fucking. He’s just going down on me.
Like…all the time.
And I am not a fool, so I’m taking him up on it.
I pry the book out of her grip and close it with as haughty an expression as I can manage. “First of all, I don’t appreciate that insinuation. Second of all, I didn’t get him to do anything. This was my idea. He’s just accompanying me because we can’t be separated.”
Metta scoffs. “I have eyes. I know what I see.”
That makes me pause. I’m dying of curiosity, but I also don’t want to encourage her. I put on my best neutral expression. “And what is it you think you see?”
“You’re his sweet little maiden. It’s obvious he’ll do whatever you like just so he’ll get you in his bed.” She plucks the book from my hands and opens it again. “Least you’re getting something out of it.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I mean, I am getting a lot of something, but it isn’t book learning. My face is hot as blazes. “Do you want to help me with this or not?”
“I’ll help, I’ll help,” she says. “Show me more of your pictures.”
Chapter
Thirty-Four
After a long and frustrating conversation with Metta, I’m armed with ideas for how to improve my book. Her ideas for what she wants to symbolize ailments are completely foreign to mine, but we were able to agree on a lot of other things. She seemed impressed with the idea of the book and wanted to go rush out and find some of the plants I’d painstakingly drawn out in the first few pages. It made me encouraged despite things, and I left her cottage with the book under my arm and a head full of ideas.
I don’t go more than two steps before I see Kalos sprawled nearby. He’s on his side in her small garden, letting Dingle eat the woman’s carefully planted turnips. He gives me a lazy smile, his gaze heated. “Free already?”
“More or less.” I clutch the book to my chest, ignoring his come-hither gaze. “She has ideas for improvement that I need to implement.”
“Figures.” He yawns and flicks a bit of greenery off his sleeve. “More work for you and less playtime.”
You’re his sweet little maiden. Metta’s words ring in my ears, and my face feels like it’s scorching and sunburned, even though it’s a cloudy day. “Will you come on already? You’re letting Dingle eat all her vegetables and she needs them.”
He gives another gusty sigh and gets to his feet, brushing dirt off his clothing. His moods have been tricky ever since Hedonism took over. When he’s not dragging me onto furniture or between bookshelves, he’s been more apathetic than ever. His mood swings greatly between the two and it makes it difficult to deal with him when I either want to kiss him or shake him. “Let’s go, friend,” he tells Dingle. “We’re not wanted here.”