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I skip the zombie-kissing joke I had bubbling and just clutch at his arms, smiling up at him. "You're practically vibrating with excitement."
"I have waited a thousand years for this moment." He gazes up at the trees, full of shadows now that all the lights have gone out. "Tomorrow will be the culmination of my dreams." Kassam's silver eyes practically blaze with excitement. "We will burn her tree city to the ground and leave her nowhere to hide."
Did I just tell myself I wasn't going to get involved? Because I'm going to get involved. I take his hand in mine and tug him forward. "Come on, let's take a walk. I need to stretch my legs."
That immediately grabs his attention. "Do they pain you? Do I need to rub them?"
"I'm okay," I promise him. "I just want to walk it out." I lean on his arm, though, to make sure he stays at my side. Have I been pulling the “slightly weaker than usual” card out when needed? Absolutely. Ever since my stabbing, Kassam has been hovering over me like an attentive husband, which is nice. Even so, sometimes he gets distracted. A glimpse of Seth at the head of his army makes him stiffen with rage, or when one of the poor messengers comes by with one of Seth's always ill-timed updates. He's a bit of a braggart, our buddy Seth, and feels the need to constantly update us with how big his army has swelled, or what news he's found out. He always invites Kassam and me over for a “summit” and we always turn him down. I suspect if Kassam ends up in the same room with him, Seth is going to find himself torn to shreds.
So sometimes I pretend to be a little needy and helpless.
Mostly though, I feel surprisingly well. Other than the gigantic, stitched-up hole in my chest, I feel mostly normal. A little too silent, my fingers and toes a little too cold, and my mouth a little too dry, but otherwise I feel as human as ever. I haven't needed to eat, to sleep, or any other bodily functions that a normal person would, though. And while I'm glad I don't have to constantly poop under a bush while the army crawls relentlessly forward, I worry what it's going to mean when I'm brought back to life.
If I'm brought back to life. I'm trying not to think about that possibility right now, but it's a very real one. Even Death said he couldn't do much for me if I refused him.
I…still haven't told Kassam about that. He's got enough to worry about right now.
And worry, he is. Kassam walks at my side, cradling me gently against him when we need to step over a particularly large tree root or if there's a muddy puddle that needs avoiding. Normally he fusses, making sure my hair is braided back and hasn't fallen loose, or checks my boots to ensure there's no holes. He offers to help me bathe. He offers to get me snacks. He offers to fuck me silly.
I somehow manage to avoid all of them. Not that I don't want snacks, or sex, but…my body doesn't need them. I'm not sure how it'll go if Kassam fucks me when I'm a zombie, so I've asked him to wait if he can, for me to be healed. It means we're feeding his hedonism less, but instead of all-night fuck-a-thons, it's turned into Kassam eating and drinking, and cuddle sessions when we stop.
Cuddling feeds the hedonism, he tells me, because it's pleasure. And it's less exciting than sex, of course, but it still works.
As for me, I kind of love an all-night cuddle-fest. So when we pick through the trees as I “stretch” my legs, I know we're going to find a spot to hunker down and have our nightly snuggle. We walk amongst the massive trees, and I try not to marvel at them too much. I don't want to seem entranced with Riekki's location. I should hate it, right? I should hate it out of sheer solidarity. But the forest is large and peaceful and pretty. The birds settle in around us, their nighttime songs filling the air. The homes are so high up and distant that it feels safe to wander about—
—at least it does until we run across a road that winds through the trees, and across the road, a crowded little lot.
At first, I think I'm looking at scarecrows. It strikes me as an odd place to set up a patch of vegetables, in the shade by the side of the road. It also seems odd to cluster so many scarecrows together…and then I smell it.
I raise a hand to my nose in horror. "Kassam, is that—"
"I smell it," he says, and takes a few steps forward, toward the dead people on spikes.
