It was warm and cozy, and something smelled very nice. Ba’an tucked her nose closer and sighed. Yes, everything was warm and comfortable, and Lukios’ bright, beautiful soul was…

…Right beside her.

She bolted upright.

Lukios made a sleepy noise and opened one eye to peer up at her even as his arm tightened around her waist. He pulled her so his forehead was pressed against her hip. “Ba’an?” His voice was still thick with sleep.

Ba’an stared down at him, horrified by the sight of sunlight framing his face in a near-perfect rectangle.

Sunlight.

Sunlight.

“Lukios. Lukios. We—it is noon. It is noon. Noon!”

“Mm. So it is. Come back here, Ba’an. Let’s sleep.” He yawned. “We were up real late last night and it’s too hot to travel anyway. Might as well…take a nap.”

“Lukios. We will starve. To death.”

He tugged her again. “Not in one day, we won’t. Don’t worry. We can leave tomorrow right before dawn and it’ll be the same thing.”

“Lukios. We have only a handful of balu’tra and some mushrooms.”

“I’ll go fishing. Or I’ll catch something else. Don’t worry.”

“Lukios. You have not caught anything for three days.”

“Ouch. Sometimes you’re just shit out of luck, you know?” He kissed her hip through her shift and Ba’an felt herself flush with heat.

He had gotten very bold.

Ba’an raised her hand to slap him then faltered. Should she slap him? Ba’an had crawled into his little nest on her own. Now things were very confusing.

And…it was not unpleasant.

She covered her mouth, feeling her cheeks go hot. Oh, what had possessed her? This was…

Ba’an had not been in her right mind. Something was wrong with her. The sun had scrambled her brains at the Eye and she had never recovered and now she was behaving like a besotted little girl who had less sense than a bisected ska lizard.

The hind part.

She ought to stand up and leave him there right now.

Now.

Right now.

Ba’an did not move.

Lukios nuzzled her thigh and kissed her there, and Ba’an bit down on her knuckle to keep from making…noises. No. This was…

“If you’re going to turn me into a pig,” he said, “Could you at least kiss me first? Actually, I’d like it if you came back to…bed.” He grinned up at her. “You should let me earn it.” His grin widened into a comical, exaggerated leer. “You can eat me after. I promise I’m real—”

With a huff of exasperation, Ba’an pulled the blankets off her and dropped them over his head.

“Aw, Ba’aaaaan—”

“Enough! Lukios, get up. You are going to catch some fish or we will starve. I will…look for more mushrooms.” Ba’an was almost certain it would be a very poor idea to harvest more of anything than she already had, but stripping the bir-vuti was preferable to starving.

They had rations set aside for their trek to Kyros. It would be best not to touch it at all, lest they starve on the road rather than in her not-vuti. If Lukios caught some fish or even a lizard, they could eat two meals and leave before dawn. If he failed, then…

She sighed. Yes, she would have to over-harvest. It would make things difficult but she thought she could perhaps buy some other types of seedlings at Kyros, or perhaps at one of the outlying farms.

“Don’t worry, Ba’an. We’ll be fine for a day or so.” Lukios sat up, blankets dropping from his head to pool in their laps. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head. He felt very solid and strong, and she could hear his heart beating at her back, even through her shift. Ba’an stiffened her spine, refusing to bend. If it bothered him, he did not show it. “I know where the rock birds are hiding now. There’s more than one pair and I figure if we grab one or two and their eggs, it won’t make much of a dent in their numbers.”

“And how will you catch them, Lukios? They are rock birds. They are inside the rocks.” They made their nest inside hard-to-reach crevices. That Lukios was even able to spot them was impressive—they blended in almost perfectly unless they moved.

She could not see his smile, but she could hear it in his voice. Typical.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, “I’ve got it all worked out.”

----------------------------------------

Smoke. He was smoking them out.

Ba’an watched from the roof of her not-vuti as Lukios worked. He was on the next plateau over, across her little courtyard and above the footpath, so he looked very small. Even so, she could see exactly what he was doing. He had covered the cracks that allowed them to fly out with her leather tarps, though he had folded them into a kind of bag, then lit several small, strategic fires; the birds, panicked by the smoke, went flying in. Not all of them—just some. But some was enough.

Oh, he was very clever, her Lukios—

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…Her Lukios?

Ba’an abruptly turned and went back into her not-vuti, nearly stumbling down the stairs. No. This was a very dangerous thing to think. He was not hers, and they would part ways soon, though they had been delayed—again.

She touched her lips with her fingers, remembering the heat of his mouth on hers.

No. It had only been a temporary madness, born of her own selfish desires.

She would make it clear once they had had dinner. There would be no misunderstanding between them.

Ba’an clutched Thu’rin’s necklace in her hand as she made her way into the cave system. She took a basket with her, intending to forage what she could and check the traps.

Yes, it was only a temporary madness. It was disgusting, the way she was behaving. Thu’rin was dead because of her, his body left for scavengers all alone on a mountain-top, and here she was, dallying with an outlander even as she wore Thu’rin’s sumanu’ta. Disgusting. That’s what she was. Disgusting.

No wonder Vaa’ti had been so furious. She had been right. It was insulting. Deeply insulting.

As predicted, the traps were empty. She wandered deeper into the caves, looking for mushrooms. They were getting thin. Could she harvest more without losing them entirely? Hm.

Now that she was away from his overwhelming charm, she was able to think more clearly.

What, exactly, had she gotten so overwrought about? He had only invited her to stay with him and then kissed her. All that meant was that he desired her in his bed and he was willing to host her for the pleasure.

This was not at all unusual for Dolkoi’ri men: they had women specifically for this purpose. If they were freewomen they were called concubines and it was only a way of saying she was not good enough to wed, only to bed. It meant nothing, and wealthy men had many concubines and bedslaves alongside their wives.

K’Avaari did not live this way. It was offensive, though Ba’an did not think Lukios had meant to insult her. He was an outlander, so perhaps he had expected her to be flattered or pleased. Perhaps being a concubine of a rich man was a great honour—ha.

Ba’an did not care for stupid, backwards outlander customs, so she had never checked or asked if this was the expectation, but she would not be surprised if it was. Outlander men were ever audacious, as their tribute demands had shown.

It would be best if she mastered her temper. Lukios had meant well and Ba’an had not helped matters. Perhaps it had only been the moonlight and her own loneliness—but now, in the light of day, she was much more herself.

She walked up to her terraced garden. She had already picked as much as she dared, but…perhaps the snails had returned. They would need to be purged but after that they could be cooked and eaten. If there were too few to bother, she could use them to bait her fishhook.

Ba’an squatted and began digging through the dirt. No…no such luck. Hm, perhaps over there? Or…

Now that she was thinking about it—really thinking about it—the picture had become clearer, less rosy. All Lukios had done was ask her to go with him as his guest so he could bed her. It was clear that was his goal—his jokes were always sexual. His touch was full of desire and why wouldn’t it be?

He had been stuck here with her for five months. Longer. With his looks she suspected this was much longer than he normally went without a woman—and she was the only woman here.

And of course he had flattered her. No man told a woman he wanted to bed that she was ugly. This was stupidity. Not even outlanders were this dull, and Lukios was very sharp.

Ba’an had a very realistic idea of what she looked like. She had never been a great beauty, or even a middling one—she had been cherished for her facility with magic, not her face. Only Thu’rin had ever courted her seriously and by K’Avaari standards, Thu’rin had been a madman. She had not believed him at first when he had come to court her.

No, she had not believed him the second time either. Or the third. Or the fifth. Or the…

Hm. He had been very patient, now that she thought about it.

She touched his necklace of teeth, suddenly sad again. The cliff-cat teeth were worn smooth now, and she ran her fingers over its edges with ease.

Yes, Thu’rin had loved her very much—but even he had not claimed that she was some great beauty. He had thought her very pretty and precious, but only because he had been hers and she had been his. She did not think he would have looked at her twice if they had passed each other on a road as strangers.

She checked the last row. No, no snails. Ba’an had done a very good job getting rid of them, and now there were none to eat. She sighed.

The little pool then. The river ran beneath the stone but Lukios had woven a sort of net to use as a trap that he had dangled into the hole. Sometimes little fish or creatures got caught in it, and since it was underwater they stayed alive and fresh—unless they were eaten by something bigger.

Hm. Yes. Lukios.

He had been very pleasant and kind his entire stay here, and useful besides. On top of that he was very pleasing to look at, though he had thinned somewhat during his stay. It was regrettable, but Ba’an knew it could not be helped. It was often difficult enough keeping herself fed. If she had had the means she would have fed him better, but she had not.

…Would it really be so bad to bed him?

Ba’an touched Thu’rin’s sumanu’ta. Ba’an had only ever had Thu’rin, and she had never wanted anyone else. But it was an acceptable thing for a witch to have more than one man—it was often unavoidable. Sometimes, if a tribe’s magic ran thin, a man from a strong bloodline would lie with a witch and their child would go to the tribe in need. Ba’an had never been asked to do this, which was lucky, because Thu’rin…had never accepted things because he should.

It would have hurt him very much if she had taken another man. Very much. And Thu’rin’s temper, while slow, had been formidable. He would have taken a spear to his rival, and that would have been a diplomatic disaster.

But Thu’rin was dead. Gone. Forever.

She stilled, waiting until her breathing calmed.

Once Ba'an was dead, she too, would be unmade.

Ba’an squatted at the edge of the hole in the cave floor. She could hear water rushing beneath it and five steps away, the water actually came out in a small stream, filling her little bathing pool. Now this was a delicate procedure. It would not do if she ripped the net.

Slowly, she lifted it hand over hand. The thing inside was wriggling mightily, and the net nearly escaped her once or twice. Something about its thrashing reminded her of the night before, of what she had said: I am not human. Suddenly flustered, she nearly lost her grip on the thick-woven balu’ta.

What had she been thinking? What had possessed her? Lukios must think her a madwoman.

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Ba’an had obviously gone a little mad in her solitude. More than a little.

Lukios was leaving and it did not matter to him what she was. He had said so himself: I don’t care.

Indeed, why would he? He understood she would not harm him, and that was likely all that mattered to a man when it came to bedding. A woman worried about pregnancy, but a man did not. Once he was gone it was not his problem. The streets of outlander cities were full of children who did not know their fathers, either thieving for a living or starving to death. Some even worked at brothels or mines, and many did not see adulthood.

Ba’an did not think she could get pregnant. After taking Enha-naus-hasa-en, her monthly bloodletting had slowed, become erratic, and then stopped entirely. It was not something she needed to worry about, though she would take suk as a matter of course.

She pulled the net up, pleased. They had been lucky today; a fish had swum straight into the net and they would have two kinds of meat. Three if one counted the eggs. Oh, this was fortunate. Very fortunate.

She freed the fish and set up the net again. The creature flopped on the cave floor, mouth open and gasping as it struggled against inevitability.

Lukios desired her, and Ba’an desired him. Thu’rin was dead, and Ba'an would pay for it in due time. In another day they would leave for Kyros, and once there they would part ways amicably. Ba’an did not think he would continue to want her once he had her, and there were many beautiful Dolkoi’ri women in Kyros.

It would be a pleasant diversion. They could enjoy each other fully before parting ways.

Why not?

What could it hurt?