Soleil’s house is dark, but it smells delicious, like someone’s been cooking. I can smell it halfway down the road: mushrooms, onions, and something spicy. My mouth is already watering as I let myself into the darkened home. “She’s here!” Haven calls when the door closes behind me, she’s standing behind the rumpled figure of my drider. He turns and throws me a warm smile. I’m already a melty puddle of affection when Haven sweeps me up into her arms. I curl my arms around her and inhale her scent.

“You made it back safe and sound,” I murmur into her hair and I squeeze her tightly.

“I told you I would,” she chuckles and kisses me, swiping her thumbs over my cheeks in the process to light my skin aflame.

“Am I going to get a turn?” Soleil teases from the kitchen.

Haven curls her arms around me and pouts. “In a second. Besides, you’re busy with dinner.”

I kiss her cheeks and gently tug out of her arms and pull her back into the little kitchenette and over to the chuckling drider. He’s got his long hair pulled into a loose bun atop his head, with errant strands cascading down in gleaming rivulets. He is using one of his eight legs to scissor through some vegetables on the countertop while he stirs something on the stove. He smiles down at me through his spectacles. “I haven’t seen Sybil in two weeks,” he reminds Haven playfully. He leans down and presses his face against my head and inhales deeply. “You smell like road dust,” he declares.

“You smell like mushrooms and onions,” I return with a grin.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he says a little shyly, pressing his lips to my forehead.

“Ravished,” I affirm, enjoying the scent of paper and ink on his skin. His shirt is rumpled with sleep and there are ink stains over his wrists and forearms. I should get him soap from Mathieus’s shop next time I get a moment.

“Here, take this, Second-rate,” he teases Haven and passes the spatula over. Haven rolls her eyes and takes it, stepping up to the stove, but smiles lightly. “I need to show Sybil my new manuscript.”

“Don’t be too long,” she chides, “I will burn this, and not for lack of trying.”

“New manuscript?” excitement flutters in my chest, “How far did you get?”

“I think this one might be done,” he rustles through some of the papers fitted between books near his nest. “I think I’ve compiled all of the known uses of druidic trap circles from the third age. And, I think I found a maternal pattern line stretching back from the fourth war.” He taps a ream of collected papers against his pedipalp, righting them.

“That’s incredible,” I tell him, my mind swimming, thinking of the trap I’d fallen into three years ago. There weren’t many anymore, and druidic magic had waned over the years. There were few living practitioners in Lem, and many of them spent their days in craftsmanship.

He hesitates before handing them to me, rubbing his hand over his scalp self-consciously. “It’s a lot, but I hope you’ll read them.”

“Are these originals or copies?” I ask, thumbing through the pages alight with his elegant script.

He blanches – if that was possible. One of his posterior legs taps in anxiety, a tic I’ve found terribly endearing. “It’s the original.”

I pass it back in a hurry, overly conscientious of my dirty fingers, pushing it into his hands. “I can’t hold this!”

“No, no, it’s fine!” he pushes them back at me.

“I’m filthy, Sol, I’d feel safer with copies–”

“I’ve told him to make copies,” Haven calls. “I even said Lasis might be interested in helping, but–”

“No,” Soleil grumbles, not meeting my eyes, all four of his eyes darting around. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

I shake my head earnestly, “No, that’s a fantastic idea,” I tell him, squeezing the joint of his pedipalp. “We’d all be so happy to help you.”

His back leg tippy-taps anxiously, but it slows as he considers and he nods awkwardly, rubbing his neck. “Okay,” he smiles weakly down at me, “Thank you.” The gentle tone of his voice strains at my heartstrings.

“Good,” I tug on the front of his shirt. “I can take it up to the house later to have it transcribed. Would that be okay?”

He nods. “It’ll fit nicely into a book for safe carrying,” he adds, fingers trailing absentmindedly over my arm before turning to his book case.

“It’d be a good excuse to come up to the house,” I tease him.

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He hesitates. “I’d love to, Syb…”

“We’re just scared.” Haven says from the kitchen. “Oh, shit.”

The scent of something burning catches in the air and Soleil’s papers flutter to the floor as he rushes over to the stove. I try to capture the pieces of paper as they fall, hoping not to leave my dirty finger prints behind as Soleil and Haven fuss over dinner.

Once dinner is settled, the three of us sit down to the small table. Soleil has somehow salvaged dinner. There are two chairs at the small table that Haven and I take up, and enough space for Soleil to hunker down at the head of the table. “You wouldn’t believe what Sybil did,” Haven poses once we dig in.

Soleil’s smile is mischevious. “Our Sybil?”

I keep my eyes trained to my food, embarrassment flooding me. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s pretty bad,” Haven teases, squeezing my knee under the table. It shocks warmth in my lower belly and I shove another forkful into my mouth to distract my thoughts from retreating into the dark.

“What’d you do?” Soleiel asks me, mirth dancing around his eyes.

“She bought some slaves.” Haven tells him proudly. I cough, choking on my mouthful, and Haven laughs, pounding my back.

Soleil’s jaw drops in shock. “You what?”

I suck down some water and clear my throat. “I technically bought some slaves,” I admit, casting Haven a dirty look.

She grins back, mischief growing in her gaze. I narrow my eyes, sending her a silent Just you wait. Her smile grows three sizes.

Soleil rubs the frown that’s gathered in his long forehead, looking world-weary. “How? Why?”

“They were going to be sold to someone one way or the other. I wanted the opportunity to… I don’t know, give them a different life?” I explain, setting my fork down.

“They’re prisoners arrested during the strange time between kings,” Haven explains to him. “Mostly beastmen and sympathizers, I think.”

Soleil’s hard gaze softens, turning into pride. My insides turn to absolute pudding at the sight and I return to my food. “That’s incredible. What are you going to do with them?”

I chew and swallow, buying myself some time. “I don’t really, really know. Maggie’s going to get Mathieus to make some truth serum and they’ll all be questioned on their crimes. Root out any potentially dangerous folk. Then we’ll offer them a home, jobs.”

Haven nods enthusiastically and captures my free hand across the table, wrapping her twining our fingers together. I smile, feeling the warmth of her love pooling in my body. “Our Sybil is very clever.”

Soleil squeezes my shoulder. “I hope they turn out to be good people.”

“I hope so, too.” I hesitate. “I hope all of this calms down.”

Soleil nods, “I could do with going outside again.”

Haven doesn’t say anything, lips thin in her face. She squeezes my hand and returns to eating. I make a mental note to ask her later, but I think I know already. Since Reistau had gotten busier, Soleil didn’t go out anymore. He was confined inside his home for fear that someone might catch sight of his large, 8 legged body. He would certainly be a kill on sight if any of the king’s guards ever caught wind of his existence. And though we didn’t have any such enforcement in our small village, word travelled quickly across the realm.

If I could get the housing building up and running, I might be able to accommodate our townsfolk until Mathieus’ stock of glamour potions was back. Soleil could live as himself. We would just need to get him there. Unfortunately, since he had too many legs, the glamour potion worked a little differently on him than it did the bipedal bestmen. Terrifying was one word for it: with eight bare human legs sticking out of his torso at odd angles.

It hadn’t taken very much trial and error to decide that glamour potions weren’t going to work for Soleil.

When dinner is done, Soleil tucks the manuscript into a book for me and Haven wraps up some extra food for me to take home for Vi. He pulls me into a warm hug and kisses the top of my head. “Thank you,” he whispers into my hair.

My stomach twists into a sad knot, knowing that I probably won’t see him for another few weeks what with the harvest. “I’ll get it down to you soon,” I promise him. “I’ll make you three copies.”

“I’d like that.” He smiles, rubbing my arms.

“I’ll come visit soon.”

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere,” he jokes, deadpan.

He squeezes my hand and I follow Haven out onto the street.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” Haven calls over her shoulder and he waves her away. When the door closes behind us, we’re left in the road in the dark of night. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?”

I chew on my lip. I desperately want to, and what with her abundant teasing, there’s a bit of pent up stress I’d like to take out on her. I wince. “I should go home, Vi will be wondering about me. And Lasis.”

“Can that wait for tomorrow?” Haven asks, fingers featherlight on my wrist, her eyes demure in the darkness.

I swallow, look up at the sky, and sigh. “You’re convincing.”

“I know I am.” Haven tucks her arm in mine and pulls me to her shop. “It required so much energy, too,” she teases sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, shy warmth spreading through my body. “I could change my mind,” I remind her.

“You won’t,” she tells me.

“Why is that?” I ask, eyes searching through the dark streets for her forge.

She slides her hand into my fingers and pulls me between houses and against Mr. Feindley’s rock wall fence. My stomach flip flops as she takes my throat in her hand and kisses me deeply, fingertips tracing over my stomach. I almost drop the food she’s saved up for Vi. Just as the world begins to spin away from me, she pulls away. I reach for her but she steps out of my grasp. “Because you’re going to have to get back at me for that,” she explains, winking. It’s all I can do not to grab her by the waist and press into her. She’s read me completely, and I do intend to take my revenge on her for all of her teasing the last two or three days. I’ll go home in the morning, and hopefully by the following week, I’ll have answers on who is going to work with me. Until then, I deserved a little bit of a break in the arms of one of my lovers.