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)
I put on my best I’m-With-Belara smile and approach him. “Good afternoon to you, sir. Can you lead me to the nearest inn?”
I’ve practiced the words in my head a jillion times with every step, because I need to sound like I’m a casual traveler and not, say, a dog walker from Chicago. But Kalos’s fever is getting to me, and it comes out utterly congested and pitiful. “Goob abernoon, sir. Cab ewe eed me to da nearbest inn?”
He flinches, his return smile of greeting fading a little. “My friend, you don’t sound well. Is it…contagious?”
“Hay,” I say, hoping that hay-fever is a thing here, too. I should have asked for a cover story. Shit. Three violent sneezes follow my answer.
The guard moves further away, out of the splash zone. “A rotten thing for travelers, indeed. Are you one of Belara’s chosen?”
I try to wear a pious look on my face and smooth my annoying red veil. “Indeed I am.”
“Then you are in luck!” He leans in, eager to share gossip. “Rumor from out of Eagleton is that her Aspect is heading this way.”
I gasp and clutch at imaginary pearls, wondering if I’m selling it too hard. “No!”
“Yes!” He beams at me. “I can’t speak to the truth of it, but a great many have flooded in through these gates today, hoping to get a look at the Lady of Beauty.”
“I am so blessed,” I say, and sneeze again. Sweat drips down my face, making the veil cling to my skin. “Sorry. I’m just exhausted. Where did you say the inn was?”
He points inside the city. “Follow the wall along the right. Look for the sign of the drunken pig.”
“Perfect. I hope we shall both look upon Belara tomorrow.”
“Gods willing!” He chirps.
I wave at him and hobble my way forward, hissing in pain with every step into the town itself. It does seem rather busy. If I wasn’t struggling for every mucus-ridden breath, I’d probably analyze it more. As it is, I just want to find the fucking inn and lie down.
This feels like the nastiest case of the flu I’ve ever had, and combined with the ache of parting from Kalos, it’s torture. Every breath hurts. Every step sends pain lancing up my legs.
Lying down in the road and dying seems like a good option. A very good option. But then I see the inn’s shingle sign with a dancing pig holding a goblet and drag myself toward it. The throbbing toothache pain of being separated has turned into full-fledged migraine mode.
Is it possible for your entire being to have a migraine? Asking for all of my limbs.
The inside of the inn is bustling with people. With dismay, I realize that word of Kalos’s arrival has spread and people are showing up just to get a look at a god Aspect. It means there might not be rooms to have. Well, shit. I can sleep in a stable if I must. It’s not vital to our plan that I have a good night’s sleep. I just need to be here and blend in with everyone else.
I sneeze again, and bite back a moan of misery.
People scoot away from me as I blow my nose, trying to stay away from my germs. I hold a tattered handkerchief to my face and search for the innkeeper. A woman bustles past with a pile of linens in her hands, and I stop her with a touch on the arm. “I’m sorry to bother you. Who do I see about getting a room?”
“Oh, we’re full up,” she says, and clucks her tongue at me. “You poor thing. Do you need a healer?”
“Just a bed,” I manage with a watery smile. “I swear I’ll be fine in the morning.”
She eyes me as if she very much disbelieves this and turns to a balding man talking to a merchant nearby. “Dear, this priestess needs a room for the night.”
I try to smile brightly, as I hope a priestess would.
The two men turn to look at me. The innkeeper wipes his hands on his apron. “We’re full.”
“Oh no, and with my goddess on the way, too,” I say, trying to seem pathetic. “And me sick as a dog. This is just terrible.”
The wife gives me an uneasy glance and moves toward her husband. “I don’t want to put out a sick priestess if Belara is truly on her way.”
“We don’t have any rooms.” He spreads his hands.
The merchant pauses and eyes me. “She can have my quarters. I’ll sleep in the common room with the other lodgers.”
“Are you sure?” the wife asks.
I surge forward and grab the generous merchant’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you, sir. You are the very soul of kindness. If I speak with my goddess, I will sing praises to your name. I—” I break off and sneeze again.