by Ruby Dixon
“Hey, Aron,” I call out, my boots squelching in the mud. “Can we talk for a few?”
He flicks a hand at me, indicating I should go to him.
“Privately?” I call out, stopping in the middle of the soaking field as Cathis looks up, his face white and pinched.
Aron turns his irritated gaze to me, but I smile brightly because I know it’s all hot air as far as I’m concerned. “You are standing in the rain.”
“No shit. Now come stand with me.” I cross my arms, tightening my cloak around my body, and wait.
The god points at Cathis. “Finish saddling my beast. My consort and I are leaving soon.” He moves to my side and blasts me with a scowl. “What do you need, Faith? I’m trying to prepare us for the road.”
“So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” I point out as he moves to my side. “But it’s wet.”
“This is why you wished to talk?” Aron puts his hands on his hips. “Truly?”
“I’m also standing calf-deep in mud that should be a field. A farmer kind of needs his fields, you know? To grow crops?” When he crosses his arms and waits, I continue. “All right, I’m clearly going to have to connect the dots for you. These people that are so nicely helping us out? They’re starving because their fields are one big sludgy mud puddle. And I’m traveling with the god of rain. You put two and two together.”
“Lord of Storms,” he corrects me.
“Rain, storms, whatever—“
“Not whatever. Storms are battles in the Aether. He taps his chest. “That is why they are my domain.”
“Where I come from, they’re clouds of condensation that eventually make water, but I don’t want to argue. Aron, if you can do something about this, please. Just dry up the storms over their farmland so they won’t lose their entire crop. It’s the right thing to do.” I give him a pleading look.
He shrugs. “Very well, if it will get you to cease this begging.”
“It totally will.”
Aron grunts, and an expression of concentration crosses his face. He frowns in my direction. “I forgot how difficult it is to do anything on the mortal plane.”
“Try harder,” I encourage. “I can feel the change in the air.” It’s making my head hurt, so I know it’s working.
He nods and extends his hands, as if that will help him focus. His fingers curl as if he’s gripping the air between them, and pain spikes behind my brows. Aron’s face grows flushed with concentration and his body tenses. My head throbs and the thick feeling in the air clears.
The rain spattering on my cloak slows, and then stops. I pull my hood back, squinting up at the gray skies. “Holy shit. You did it.”
“I am a god, you know.” He gives the skies a pleased look.
“Yeah, you never let me forget that part.” I reach out and touch his arm, giving him a squeeze and enjoying the little spark that flies between us at the contact. “But thank you.”
Aron glances down at my hand where it rests on his forearm.
“Sorry.” I pull back.
He gives me a speculative look. “I did not say I disliked it.”
That response gives me all kinds of confusing feels. “Oh.”
Aron frowns and then moves forward, brushing his fingers over my upper lip. “Your nose is bleeding.”
“It is?” I touch my face and sure enough, the wetness there isn’t just rain, it’s blood. “It must have been the change in the weather.” I put my sleeve to my nose to try and blot the bleeding. “I’m going to go tell Vian the good news. How long do you think you can get it to stop raining?”
Aron watches me closely, eyes narrowed, as if he’s not thinking about rain at all. After a long, tense moment, he says, “Perhaps a week. After that I would need to return to this area. I do not have the control I do in the heavens.”
“A week’s a good start. I appreciate it. It’s the right thing to do.”
“You make it sound as if I’m doing it for you,” Aron says, amused. He studies my face for a moment longer and then releases me.
“Well, aren’t you?” I retort back. “Doing this for me? Unless you were planning on doing it before I said anything out of the goodness of your own heart?”
“No,” he admits with a chuckle. “It did not occur to me.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I tell him sassily, turning back toward the cottage.
“So you can be my heart?” he asks as I start to walk away.
My own heart skips a beat. I smile as I hold my sleeve to my nose and head for the cottage. Even before I make it to the door, the heavy, oppressive moisture in the air feels as if it’s drying and in the distance, sunlight pours onto the trees as if the clouds are breaking up overhead.
Vian meets me at the door, her eyes wide with surprise. “He did it? Truly?”
I nod. “He says it will last about a week, after that he’d need to come back. I hope that’s all right.”
She sags against the doorframe. “I can’t believe it. You must have a great influence on him.”
“Me? Nah. I mean, he’s a good guy, but he needs a bit of steering now and then. I don’t think it occurs to him to think like a mortal.” I put an arm around her waist to support her. “Why don’t you come sit down inside?”
“I can’t believe he did it,” she whispers, stunned. Vian lets me lead her to the table and sits down, her expression blank. Eventually she looks over at me, her expression wary. “It’s not a trick?”
I like Vian, but her reaction is making me feel defensive for Aron. “He really isn’t that bad—”
She grabs my hand. “Swear to me he’s not lying. Swear to me that he’s made it stop. That we haven’t offended him and this is but a trick—”
“Why would he lie?” I pull my hand from hers. “Aron can be a dick at times, but he’s never downright cruel. I’ve never known him to go back on his word and we’ve been around each other pretty much twenty-four-seven since the Anticipation. When he says he’ll do something, he’ll do it. Changing the weather was easy for him.”
“Easy,” she whispers, stunned. She looks at me again and shakes her head slowly. “You have more of an influence on him than you think.”
“Why’s that?” I mean, it’s flattering to think that, but I don’t know that she’s right.
She hesitates, worry on her face, then bites her lip. “We didn’t want to say anything…but you two have been so kind…”
“What is it?” I demand. “Tell me.”
“Aron,” Vian says slowly. “He’s been here before. A few days ago. And he brought the rain with him.”
Her words confuse me for a moment. Aron here? But he just got here last night with me…
Oh. Another one of his Aspects.
39
Anger flares in my mind, and frustration. She wasn’t going to say anything? I jump to my feet—and then stop, looking at her terrified face. Sympathy replaces any anger. She doesn’t know him like I do, and it’s clear she’s scared she’s going to lose her family, her farm, or worse.
I put my hand over hers. “I’m going to get Aron—my Aron—and bring him in and then I want you guys to tell us everything, all right?”
She gives a quick, jerky nod.
Furious, I jump up to get my Aron.
A short time later, Vian sits down at the table in front of the fire, her husband's hand on her shoulder. Both of them look ready to faint at the slightest indication of rage from Aron. To my traveling companion's credit, he's calm. It's as if he expected this sort of thing. Me, I still feel slightly betrayed that we stayed here overnight and were friendly and they're just now deciding to tell us about the other Aspect that's looking to kill both of us.
I remind myself that Vian is mortal and poor and pregnant and worried and possibly starving. We're the enemy in her eyes, and she's making a great concession by telling us. It's clear from her husband's tight mouth that he didn't want to say a thing at all. Him, I can't like. For all of his obedience and terrified kneeling to
Aron, he was ready to not say a peep about the other guy that came through a few days ago.
I kind of hate him for that.
Vian gives me another worried look. "Travelers stop by our farm all the time," she tells me. "At first we didn't think anything of it. They wore cloaks and they brought more rain with them. It's the rainy season anyhow, but there's been more and more ever since the Anticipation, and our crops have suffered. These particular travelers were a large band, maybe ten men, all armed. There was a wizard with them." She purses her lips. "And a man in a cloak. They asked to stay at our farm and for us to feed them, but times have been hard, and we didn't realize…" She trails off, then gives her hands a nervous twist. "We told them it would cost a drab a day if they planned to stay. That's when their leader took off his cloak and we realized…" Her mouth trembles and her eyes fill with tears.
"That it was Aron," I say, voice flat.
"Yes. With two eyes and no axe, of course, but it was impossible to mistake him." She stares down at her hands in her lap. "Once we realized our error and that we had been blessed by the god's presence, we gave them whatever they wanted, of course. We let them clean out our stores and take two of our woale. We had three, you know. It's just that…the only reason they left the one behind was because it was limping." She won't look me in the eye. "They stayed with us overnight and the god never spoke to us. Not directly. Until it was time to leave. Then he came up to us and said that we had been good hosts and he would reward us suitably. We thought he meant coin, compensation for what he and his men were taking. Instead, they beat Cathis and rode away, and he left the rain behind. It has been pouring ever since. It will not stop. Not ever." She picks at a string on her tunic. "I guess we were not good hosts after all."
Aron and I exchange a look.
"Lies," Aron says.
"Unless he's trying to make us think that, and he's actually something else." I eye Vian and her husband. "Uh, so while they were here, did they have sex?"
She frowns at my question, confused. "Do you mean the god and his devotees? He had a concubine that he shared with the wizard, but that was it."
Sharing? That dirty bird. I'm guessing the wizard is his anchor, like I am to this Aron. "I mean like…you guys. Did you feel overcome with the need to have sex?"
"My wife is very heavy with our child," Cathis tells me, outraged. "I would not dream of touching her while she is carrying."
I don't bother to tell him that I've heard that's not a problem, but I also don't care about him, secret-keeper that he is. Fuck him. "No orgies amongst his soldiers?" When they give me baffled looks, I sigh. "Okay, maybe it wasn't Hedonism then."
"It is Lies," Aron says again. "And he is heading to the tower as well."
"How do you know for sure?"
"Because I am him and he is me." He crosses his arms over his chest. "We are heading there ourselves, are we not?"
He has a point. But if we're drawing parallels… "So you're telling me that you'd share a hooker with your wizard, too?"
"Why does that matter?" He frowns at me as if I've lost my mind.
Oh, sure, it might not matter to him, but it sure as fuck matters to me. "No reason. Just that we're tied together until one or both of us dies, that's all. I need to know if I need to make room in the damn bed." And I cross my arms over my chest.
Aron's mouth twitches. "Are you jealous?"
"What? No! Don't be ridiculous."
"You are the one being ridiculous. And I am a god. If I wanted to fuck all of them, is it not my right?" He looks down his nose at me, so very arrogant.
"No," I say flatly.
"They would not refuse me." He looks over at Cathis. "If I asked you to give me your wife right now, would you?"
Vian hunches her shoulders. Cathis bows his head and puts his fist over his chest. "We live to serve, Lord of Storms."
Ew. "Don't be gross, Aron."
"I am a god," he tells me, as if I don't know this. "If I ask anything of a mortal, they will give it to me." He shrugs. "If I am in a mood for a fuck, I will take whoever and whatever I want."
"You arrogant sack of shit," I tell him, jumping to my feet. I ignore Vian's gasp. "I don't care if you're the sun god or the god of dirty brown assholes, but my life is tied to yours now. You need to have respect for me and my choices too! You…" My words die in my throat because his mouth is twitching with amusement, and his shoulders shake as if he's fighting back laughter.
Aron finds this all funny.
I smack him on his chest with my hand. "You are an arrogant asshole."
"The god of dirty brown ones, apparently," he agrees, laughter rumbling out of him. He grabs my hand before I can smack at his chest again, and holds my wrist, giving me a teasing look. "Speak the truth, Faith. Are you mad over the things that I have said just now? Or are you mad because you imagine me taking other lovers when you have staked your claim on me?"
"Oh bullshit," I say boldly. "I have staked no claim at all. You can sleep with whoever you want."
He arches an eyebrow as if he doesn't believe my words. Funny, I don't know if I believe them either. Sometimes I think all it would take is a word and I'd be on Aron like white on rice. Other times I want to cheerfully strangle him.
Right now is one of the latter times.
Aron leans in, my hand still trapped in his grip. Little sparks shiver through my skin at his touch, reminding me that he’s not mortal—as if I’d ever forget. “I remember what you have sacrificed, Faith,” he murmurs, expression intent. “And the only one allowed in your bed is me.”
With that, he releases my hand and leaves me wondering exactly what the heck he meant just now.
He turns back toward Vian and Cathis. “We will take the woale you have offered us, and any food supplies you can share. The rain will not return. I am not the Aspect of Lies, so this is truth I tell you. And we will pay you for any supplies you give us. Is there anything else you would share with us that can help? Remember that it is not just my life in danger on this journey, but hers.” And he gestures at me.
Vian’s wide eyes go to me, and then she shakes her head. “There is nothing.”
I have to believe her. Even if there was more information to be shaken out of her, it might take days to get her to admit it, and we don’t have that. Aron’s made it clear we need to get to the tower, and pronto. His urgency drives mine, because if a god is worried about something…well, we all need to worry.
But I look at Vian’s thin face, her arms (and belly) filled with children, and I think she has enough on her plate.
When we leave the farm, the sun is shining hot overhead, the air dry and rain-free. The roads are drying, thanks to the heat, and our woale—or land-hippo, as I like to think of him —plods along a rutted path, contentedly going about the speed of a bicycle with two flat tires. Our bags are saddled, and Aron and I sit atop the thing's wide back on a blanket that passes as a saddle. I sit behind him, clinging to his waist, because it feels as if any moment I'm going to slide off the thing's side. Aron lightly holds the reins and he sits atop the thing as if he's ridden woales all his life. Maybe he has. Maybe this is what gods do for fun.
The thing makes a gronking noise, shits all over the road behind us, and then pauses to eat some grass on the side of the road. Aron mutters a curse, tugs on the reins, and our woale reluctantly starts walking again.
"Remind me why we're taking this thing instead of walking?" I ask him, shifting carefully. My backside is hurting from the thing's spine and it's been less than an hour since we left. It's going to be a long day in the saddle—so to speak. "I imagine we could crawl faster than this thing's going."
Aron just snorts.
"I'm serious. I bet if I look behind us I'll see the farm still."
"It's not about speed, Faith. A well-trained woale will continue along a road all day and all night without stopping. They don't need to sleep or rest for days on end. They're useful for their stamina."
"Goody. So you're telling
me we get to somehow ride on this thing through the night?"
"If we must. If we find someplace suitable, we'll stop and rest for a while." He doesn't sound bothered either way.
Must be nice. I hold onto his leather belt and grit my teeth as the thing lumbers along, swaying. I want to rest my cheek against Aron's back, but I don't want him to read more into my body language than he should. Resting against him would also mean pushing my boobs against him, and I'm still mulling some of his comments from the last few days.
Especially the one about how he could have me anytime he wanted. I think it's more arrogant bullshit, but he's also becoming increasingly touchy-feely and it makes me both breathless and confused. My thoughts start to migrate in a sexy direction and I carefully steer them back to the present, watching as Aron pulls one of the waterskins from the saddlebag in front of him and takes a sip, then offers it to me.
"Thanks," I say, surprised at his thoughtfulness. I take a sip—warm, yummy—and hand it back. "Cathis and Vian were sure grateful for the money, weren't they?"
"Of course they were. They should be grateful they kept their heads. The fact that we rewarded them for withholding information probably seems like it's too good to be true." His tone is sour.
I poke him gently in the side. "We didn't pay them for withholding information. We paid them for giving us supplies and letting us take the world's slowest mount."
Aron chuckles. "I have been on slower, if it makes you feel better."
"When?" I demand to know.
He shrugs. "I do not recall. Only that I know it is truth. Perhaps in the last Anticipation?"
I keep forgetting that this has all happened before. "Do you remember much about it?"
"Some. The memories are fragmented, I suspect because when all Aspects reunite, the individual is lost."
"Mmm." That's strange to think about—that the man I'm holding onto might not exist once this is done. I wonder if it bothers him to think about that, or if he's accepted it as fact. "So who won last time?"
