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Just a name. How ironic, considering not a minute ago he insisted hewasn’tnamed. Then again, maybe I’m the one thinking about this wrong. Pestilence the Conqueror was the namewegavehim. It’s not like it was emblazoned across his chest the day he arrived, or something he declared as he was massacring whole cities.

I stare at the horseman some more. He really hurts my eyes. It’s a good thing I don’t trust pretty men. Because this one is definitely the prettiest I’ve ever seen, and he’s also the worst one of the lot—save for maybe his brethren, but since the world hasn’t seen hide nor hair of them … he remains the worst.

Pestilence stands, slinging first his bow then his quiver over his shoulders.

“Come,” he says. He grabs a towel from the rack and throws it at me. I don’t manage to catch it in time, and a good portion of it hits the water. “I know you’ve finished bathing,” he continues, oblivious to the black look I’m giving him, “and I’m eager to leave this latrine.”

“It’s not alatrine,” I say, standing and wrapping the towel around myself. “It’s abathroom.”

He shakes his head as he opens the door. “Bath-room.” He splits the word into two parts. “The irony of the term isn’t lost on me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only you humans would think it wise to put your privy next to your bathing vessels.”

Seems reasonable to me. I mean, you shit, and then you bathe. What’s there not to like about the arrangement?

“Where would you put it?” I ask, tilting my head to towel off my hair.

He opens the door. “Notnext to each other.”

Oh, that’s real helpful.

“Of course you would bitch about a problem without actually having a solution,” I say.

He glances at me over his shoulder, swaggering down the hall. “One doesn’t need to have a solution to recognize a problem when they see one.”

“Your solution would probably be to burn toilets everywhere. Right? ‘They’re vile, disgusting things. Just get rid of them!’”

Ahead of me Pestilence guffaws. “Only a human would come up with such a ridiculous solution.”

“I was mocking you!”

“I thought mockery was supposed to be insulting?” he says as he glances back at me. “As far as I can tell, you are the one who likened your kind to privies.”

Ugh. I did, didn’t I?

“You’re missing the point,” I say.

“I fail to see how you have one.”

This is never going to end. The two of us could keep going round and round like this until the end of time.

“Forget about it,” I mutter, leaving the horseman to go search for clothes.

In the master bedroom I find a woman’s shirt and pants and everything else in between. It’s all a little too short and tight, but I manage to find a pair of pants that don’t make me feel like an overstuffed sausage and a shirt that covers all the important bits.

Once I’m dressed, I head back into the living room. My breath catches when I notice the horseman. The light from the setting sun shines through the windows, making his hair glitter like spun gold. My heart squeezes the same way it did when I saw pictures of the Sistine Chapel.

A beauty so staggering it makes you feel physically close to God.

I forget that we’ve been bickering and that he’s the enemy. For one single second I feel an odd ache beneath my ribcage.

So close to God …

A God that wants us all gone.

Chapter 14