He shrugs. "All empires get too large and crumble from within. When the last Anticipation happened, the magnificent kingdom was splintered and lords fought each other over petty land squabbles." He looks thoughtful. "That was the last I saw of Kassam, as well."

"Kassam? The other god?" I can feel my eyebrows rise high. "You mean not everyone returns from this little trek you guys are doing?"

"Not always, no. I assumed that he had not finished whatever lesson he was intended to learn." Aron shrugs and gets to his feet, water sluicing off his pale body into the tub. "He always was hard-headed."

"I don't know anyone like that," I say dryly and offer him one of the towels from the pile of linens.

He turns to me and grins, wrapping it around his hips and then stepping out. "He will turn up eventually, Faith. When it is his time, he will return to the heavens."

"Mmm. You done with the tub?" My skin's starting to itch just thinking about how dirty I am. When he nods, I get to my feet and start stripping off my layers. I'm past the point of caring if he sees me naked, or if the water's warm, or even if it's clean. I just want to wash my damn hair and get half of the grime out of it. I'd be real happy with half. When I'm naked, I plop into the water and then reach over and add the rest of the water from the pitcher into the tub. It's all lukewarm, but it's the first genuine bath I've had since I got to this hellish land, and I plan on enjoying every bit of it. I sink down into the tiny tub, my knees practically at my tits, and sigh, closing my eyes.

"Do you have to do that?"

I don't even open my eyes. "Do what?"

"Make those noises."

I crack open one eye and glance at him. He's got a perturbed look on his face, as if he can't quite figure me out. I'm about to ask just what noises he's referring to when his gaze flicks to my breasts. Oh.

A wild thought occurs to me—did he watch me while I undressed like I watched him? I ignore the funny squiggle of heat in my belly and sink down lower into the tub, because the last thing I need is to get hot and heavy with someone like Aron. The incident at the Citadel already made things awkward. I don't need them being even more so. "Just leave me alone and let me wash, all right?"

He grunts a response, and then I hear the jingle of his bracers as he puts them on again. Probably for the best.

I make my bath as quick as possible, scrubbing myself hard and giving my hair a quick rinse. I'm a little horrified at all the dirt rising in the water, but that can't be helped. At least it's now in the water and not on me. Once I'm done bathing, I step out of the tub and grab Aron's wet towel, noticing that he dressed while I bathed.

I dress, too, in my one change of clothing. It's an old gray tunic of Omos's that goes past my knees. I think it's meant to have trousers of some sort under it, but mine are dirty. I just wear it as a dress anyhow. It's not like it's sexy.

Of course, I don't think sexy matters to anyone in this land. They'd rape me if I was covered in dog poop, I think. I shudder at the thought and stuff my dirty clothes into my bag, and glance over at Aron. He's busy polishing his weapons and strapping them onto his forearms, as if we're going to be going somewhere in the next few hours. I guess being comfortable doesn't matter if you don't sleep, though. I examine my shoes. I have a pair of leather sandals that seem to be more straps than protection, and a pair of old boots that are a little too big but protect my feet. I'm wondering which ones I should wear tomorrow for more snooping around the city when there's a heavy thump at the wooden door to our room.

Aron and I both look at each other.

I slip my boots on, unlaced, and then get to my feet as someone jiggles the door. It has to be either a drunk or a person making a mistake. I open my mouth to call out only to find a hand over my lips. Aron.

“Quiet,” he murmurs into my ear. “That’s not the innkeeper.”

His hand slides away from my mouth and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he knows, when someone screams below. Not a small scream, a long, brutal scream—that cuts off abruptly in midstream.

Oh fuck.

More screaming starts, and the door to the room thumps again, the handle jiggling as if someone’s desperate to get inside. “He’s in there,” shouts a voice. “Burn the place down if you have to, but get him!”

Aron and I exchange a look.

Immediately we separate and grab our things. The screaming downstairs gets louder, except it’s not just one voice, it’s a dozen of them. The door’s not shaking anymore, but when I look over, I see a wisp of black smoke.

Aron grabs my arm, hauling me against him. “Time to go.”

Even as he touches me, I can feel the weapons covering his arms and his belt practically clanks from the knives hidden there. “Should we stay and fight? I mean, you are a god of battle.”

“And I know when a war cannot be won.” He glances around the room, his gaze lighting on the enormous window shutters. “We both know it’s not me that’s in danger.”

Oh fuck, that’s right. Another scream pierces through the night and I feel sick. “What do we do?”

Aron points at the window. “Out to the roof.”

I get a flashback of when we fell from the Citadel and groan. Is that what this is going to involve? Falling out of building after building while people try to murder us? This place sucks.

OceanofPDF.com

30

The door shakes again, and I race for the window, because I like living. We fling open the shutters once more and look out on the roof. It’s piecey and falling apart, with unsafe-looking patches, but it’s also really close to the next roof. In the distance, I can see a cluster of torches and hear the shouts of angry voices.

How did they know it was us? We were so careful. Part of me hopes they’re just thugs trying to rob an easy mark, but I know in my gut it’s more than that. Whatever’s going on in this world, these people are scared and trying to do something about it.

If that means running Aron out of town—or worse—they’ll do it.

“Come on,” Aron says, and grabs my arm. Before I can hesitate, he’s moving out onto the steep roof. I have no choice but to follow.

“My boots aren’t done up,” I protest as we move forward.

“You can do them up later, or take them off, but we’re leaving now.” He releases my hand, hops the two-foot gap to the next roof, and a few tiles slide as he lands with a heavy thump. He turns and extends his hand to me, impatiently flicking his wrist and indicating I need to follow.

I hesitate, then kick off my flopping boots. When I jump, I wince, expecting my feet to hurt—but he catches me mid-air and gently lowers me to the roof. Oh.

“Next roof,” he murmurs, pointing at the nearest building a short distance away.

“Where are we going?” I whisper, sliding my hand into his instinctively.

“Away from here. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”

Seven roofs later, and we’re almost down the street. We jump down to a lower building and then Aron jumps down again, landing on a stack of moldy, filthy hay that hasn’t been yellow in years. He hops back up to his feet again and then gestures that I should follow. Biting back the cuss words rising in my throat, I jump down onto the hay, too.

It feels like landing on scratchy concrete. I huff, choking on the air that whooshes out of my lungs, and get to my feet. Aron snags my bag from the pile next to me and then half-drags me forward. “Keep moving, Faith.”