This was becoming a habit.

Ba’an woke up. It was dark, and the firepit was glowing very faintly. She had woken again from a dream, though this had been neither nightmarish nor erotic. It had only been sad. She had dreamed of her life in the not-vuti before Lukios, sweeping the floors, chopping the firewood, and cooking and eating alone.

It had made her sad.

The not-vuti was dark and silent, though the gurti’gi always let in starlight. Everything had a dim silver glow, and she could see the bags of herbs and skins for trade piled up neatly on the kitchen counter. They were ready now—they only had to go.

They would be gone from here in the morning, and when Ba’an returned, she would be alone.

Ba’an got up quietly. She wanted to take a walk, but if Lukios woke and found her gone, he would worry. It should have bothered her that she cared at all, but it did not. He had risked his own life travelling across the desert to save her, after all. Ba’an was not without a sense of fairness.

If she stayed in the courtyard there would be no problem.

Quietly, she slipped on her sandals and wandered into the night.

The courtyard was a very dull place. It was not a true courtyard. There was the stone slab where Ba’an prepared her meat, to keep the mess out of her kitchen. Other than that it was only a bare, flat piece of rock, surrounded on all sides by cliffs except for the small footpath leading up and over. She circled it once or twice, then gave up from boredom.

She circled back to the entranceway and sat on the steps, gazing out at the stars.

Perhaps she ought to travel. Lukios had suggested that idea too. Ba’an remembered the strange shapes of the dead creatures trapped inside the rocks of the Eye. Did the world have such creatures still? Perhaps the giant tusk had belonged to the hairy elephants Lukios had called “mammoths”.

If she travelled north, would she see some?

Even if she did not, perhaps she would see some “snow”. It sounded fascinating, though she did not like being cold.

The desert would not go anywhere. She could always return.

It was not that she wanted to go. It was that the prospect of staying alone was…

Ba’an tipped her head to the side and frowned.

“Can’t sleep?”

A blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Lukios sat down beside her with a soft sigh.

“I have woken you again. I am sorry for it.”

He smiled. “No, don’t be. It’s what soldiering does to you. You wake up if a bird so much as flaps in your direction. Bad dreams again?”

“No. Just…thoughts.”

“…Are they happy thoughts or sad thoughts?”

“They are thoughts.”

He sighed. “Ba’an…would it kill you to stop doing that?”

“What am I doing?”

“You…you’re real secretive, Ba’an. I don’t mean keeping secrets, though you do that too. I mean…” He swiped his hand through his hair, by now a familiar gesture of frustration. “You’re always hiding. From me. I mean…we’re not strangers anymore, so it’s a bit…” He trailed off, then turned to her with an expression so earnest her heart ached.

“You always seem so sad, Ba’an. But you hide it. Even when you’re laughing you just seem so sad, and you never let me…in.” He shook his head. “You’re like a…you’re like a…if I say turtle, would you know what that was? Do you have turtles here?”

She did not know what a turtle was. “No. Does it taste good?”

He put his hand over his face and laughed softly. “No. They taste a bit fishy and tough. They don’t smell great either. Oh wait, that’s—that’s not what I meant when I compared you to a turtle. I meant to say—they live in the water. But they have these shells—hard shells—that they hide inside. Do you see what I mean?”

She did.

“I was thinking about what to do once you left.” She could feel him looking at her again.

“What do you mean?”

Ba’an was silent for a long moment. He waited. She touched the frame of the doorway. “It will feel very empty.”

He looked at her and took her hand. “You don’t have to stay here by yourself, Ba’an.”

She blinked at him, confused. Who would stay with her once he left?

Lukios took a quick breath and blurted, “You can just come with me. To stay. As long as you like.”

“What?”

“I mean it. You don’t have to come back here once we hit Kyros. If you want we can close this place up nice and tight and, um…you can just stay with me for a while. For as long as you want. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to worry about anything, I promise.” He grinned at her, his teeth flashing white even in the moonlight. “You can have as many meals a day as you want. Promise. Whatever else you want, too. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Ba’an looked at him blankly. What? She had known Lukios was a madman, but she had not realized—oh. No. He did not know because she had not told him. No one would wish to play host to a soul-eating abomination. It was common sense.

“I…thank you. But I was thinking about going north.”

“North?”

“Yes. To see snow.”

“That’s really far, Ba’an. By yourself?”

“Of course. Who would go with me?”

“Well, you could come with me. And we could go up north together someday. Once the legal things have been worked out.”

He was being strangely insistent. Ba’an could see that he would not be dissuaded…easily.

“Lukios.”

“Yeah?”

“There is something you must know.”

“Okay.” He looked completely relaxed, smiling at her with a bright, open expression. He suspected nothing. He had slept across from her these many months, even knowing she was the Stormcrow. Ba’an defeated the urge to touch his face, to run her fingers over his cheek.

It would send the wrong message.

Ba’an pulled the blanket tighter around herself and stared out into the courtyard and the cliff walls. “You asked me when I first woke why I live alone here. Why I am es’tat.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Ba’an. My offer won’t change. You’ll like it at Synoros, I promise. It’s exactly the sort of place you’d like—right by the desert with lots of olive trees and green, growing things. Water too. Lots of it.”

She shook her head. “You misunderstand. It is important. You must not offer such things out of ignorance, Lukios. It is very dangerous.”

“Okay, I think that’s the second meanest thing you’ve said to me so far. Ouch. I think I know you pretty well by now, Ba’an. You’re—well, you’re just Ba’an.” He leaned in closer so his breath tickled her cheek, though she did not turn her head to look. “You’re grumpy on the outside, soft on the inside. My one-and-only Ba’an-turtle.” He was grinning. She could hear it.

She finally turned to frown at him. He made her sound very innocuous, as though she had not slain his fellow soldiers by the thousands.

“I am the Stormcrow, Lukios.”

“You said that was stupid.”

She sighed at him. “I am saying I am dangerous. Do you understand? Dangerous.”

“Oh, I do. I do know it. You have no idea how dangerous you are, Ba’an. You could slay a man by looking at him.” She scowled at him and he grinned. “See? You’ve cut me with a glance.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest, over his heart. “Right here. You got me.”

His heartbeat was strong and steady, though…she frowned. It was faster than it should have been. Was he ill?

“Lukios. You must listen. The A’tat did not banish me on a whim. Do you understand? They did so with reason. Very good reason.”

His expression sobered and he took her hand from his chest, though he did not let go. Ba’an knew she ought to pull away, create more distance, but she did not. In the morning they would leave for Kyros and…their time together would end, no matter what Lukios thought.

“Okay. You can tell me whatever you want, Ba’an. It won’t change how I think of you.”

She frowned. Now that was very foolish indeed.

“Lukios. I fly about at night skinning small children then consuming them.”

“Okay.”

“Lukios. Did you hear me?”

“Yup. You fly around at night skinning kids and eating them. Do you sell the skins too? You’re awfully busy and fast for such a small woman. To think I slept through all the excitement. Not fair.”

“Lukios.”

“Ba’an.” He rolled his eyes. “That was obviously a load of horseshit. You do not fly around at night eating small children. I always hear you when you get up to stare at the sky with that sad face you make. Sell it to someone who’s buying.”

She sighed. “But if it were true you must change your mind. You must flee, for your own safety, or slay me to—”

“No.”

“What?”

“I would never.” He added, in his familiar tone of good humour, “And those kids would be fucked ‘cause I’d help you with the skinning. Not the eating part, though. People don’t actually taste like pork.”

“…How do you know this?”

“I knew a guy that got shipwrecked. Had to eat his dead crew.” Lukios shrugged. “He was crazier than a pox-ridden whore at Dionysia, though, so you have to take it with a grain of salt.”

“That is very disturbing, Lukios.”

“It is! Also, don’t eat people. They don’t taste like pork and you go completely barking mad. Gods don’t like it, apparently.” Then he added, very smugly, “See? You’re already disturbed by it and you think you can eat a bunch of kids? Hahaha. Ba’an, you would never. Your insides are too soft and you’d never be able to stomach it.”

She frowned at him. He did not know what she could or could not stomach.

Ba’an thought of Thu’rin’s dead face, his blank, staring eyes.

He had no idea.

“Very well, Lukios. I do not murder children, nor do I eat or skin them. But Lukios, it is foolish to assume that I am…”

She trailed off. Once she started telling him she would have to finish. There would be no going back. If he were a sensible man he would keep his distance and leave her behind in Kyros. This was how it should be.

But it was very hard to let go of his hand, which was so very warm and comforting around hers.

“You are…? Ba’an, you can tell me whatever you want to tell me. Or you can just not tell me anything. It doesn’t matter to me one whit. You saved my life twice and you’ve fed and housed me for over five months now, without asking for anything at all. Don’t you get it? Most people would have left me dying on the road and picked me clean before my corpse got cold. You gave me all my things back. Even the small coppers. I checked.” He shook his head. “Damn, woman. You’re just…I worry about you.”

“There is no reason to…worry.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ba’an.” His expression grew serious. “I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with you. I’d rather you came down to Synoros with me, but if you really, really want to be here by yourself while I’m—taking care of business—then you can’t be picking up anyone off the road. No one. Understand? It’d be a disaster if anyone else figured out you’re the Stormcrow. Any sensible soldier would kill you if he thought he couldn’t take you back alive. You have no idea the things we do to—never mind. But Ba’an, you can’t just pick up strange men off the road. That’s dangerous. You live alone.”

“I am dangerous. He will be in more danger from me than I am from him.”

Lukios covered his face with his hands and slumped. “No. Ba’an. You don’t—think about it. You sleep like—you sleep like a log. I used to get up every morning and step around you and you just slept. What the fuck would you have done if you’d woken up to my sword through your gut?”

She frowned. “But Lukios, you are not that type of man.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Oh for—Ba’an! There’s no way to know!”

“But I was correct. You are not that type of man. And you did not.”

“Ba’an. You…” He scrubbed his face with his hands with a noise of frustration. “Ba’an. Don’t take this the wrong way. I would never—I would never, ever betray your secret to anyone. I swear on my life. But Ba’an, when I first woke up and realized who you were—you have no idea how much danger you were in.”

“But you did nothing.”

“Because I was too crippled to get out of bed, Ba’an.”

She blinked at him. “Very well. What were you planning?”

“Ba’an.” It was too dark to tell if he was blushing, but she thought by his tone he must be. “I wasn’t—I just wanted to figure out what you were up to. But I definitely…thought about it. Things like what I’d do if you were planning to feed me to your plants or something. A man’s gotta live, you know?

"And…Ba’an, you taught me all about the herbs in your bir-vuti. You even let me make meals. What would you have done if I’d poisoned you? Or put sambi-sahi in your food and water? You would have been out and I could have done anything I wanted to you. Anything. Did you ever think about that?”

“But Lukios,” she repeated, very patiently, “you did not. So I was correct.”

He put his face in both of his hands. “Sweet lady Athēnaíē, help me.”

“There is no one else here, Lukios.” Ba’an would know if there was a god—any god—nearby. They were very…loud.

He was silent, face still in his hands. Finally, he said, voice muffled, “Can you just promise me you won’t be rescuing anyone else? Off the road or anywhere else. Please? I’d sleep better if you did.”

She looked at him and his posture of exquisite despair. Ba’an did not think the dramatics were necessary, though she imagined they must be effective among his own people.

“Lukios. It is not my habit to rescue outlanders. Most often I simply allow them to die.”

“Oh. Right. Good. Good.”

…Good?

“Lukios. Are you listening to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah. What? You’re allowed to let us die but I’m not? Oh come on. It’s not like I’m awfully fond of my fellow man, anyway. I mean, I guess if I were you, I’d have…well, taken him to a surgeon in Kyros, probably. But even If I’d lived here, I wouldn’t have taken him home. Gods, Ba’an. And you’re a woman! That’s just…” He shook his head.

Hm. It did not seem worth arguing over. Ba’an had no intention of rescuing any more outlanders.

“I see. Very well, Lukios. But you must listen.”

“Oh good. Thank you.” Lukios raised his head to look at her again, and his eyes were warm and sweet. He was smiling again. “You can tell me whatever you want, Ba’an. Anything at all.”

Ba’an imagined his expression closing, his eyes going cold. There would be no going back once she told him. He would do the sensible thing and…leave her here. No, he would need her to get to Kyros. But after that…

She took a deep breath. “I am not human.”

His brows drew together. “Uh…what?” He sounded confused. He looked at her, glancing up and down. “Ba’an, you…are you feeling okay?”

“I am well, Lukios.” No. Her heart was starting to race, beating helplessly in her chest. Her belly was in knots. Compulsively, she reached up and took his face in her hands. He leaned in, putting his own hands over hers. They were big and warm, gentle and steady.

Quietly, she continued. “The Dolkoi’ri-anta, Lukios. We could not match your people. In the end we could not. So I…did a forbidden thing. I went to a sacred mountain and slayed the god that lived there. Then I…skinned her. And bound her. To me. That is why I am the Stormcrow. This magic—it is not mine. I have stolen it. And…”

She released him and leaned back, touching Thu’rin’s necklace. His eyes tracked the movement of her hand, but he said nothing. Her voice dropped into a whisper as her throat closed. It was like squeezing water out of stone, but he deserved the truth.

“Vaa’ti is not mad, Lukios. It is not a small thing, binding a god, and I…I could not do it alone. I needed…a soul is just magic, Lukios. Did you know this? That is what magic is—souls. And I needed magic. More magic than I had. So I…” Her voice faltered.

Lukios’ voice was quiet and serious. “He was your lover, wasn’t he?” He touched the hand holding her necklace. “Is that how he died? You…used him in your magic somehow? To bind the god?”

“Yes.” Her voice was very faint. Even Ba’an could scarcely hear it.

“And he was Vaa’ti’s brother, too. That’s what she said. When we walked into the grove. ‘You replaced my brother with that.’”

She closed her eyes and nodded. Ba’an felt Lukios thumb wipe her cheek, but her tears still came.

Again. Why was she so out of control? No matter. Everything would return to the way it was…after.

“There is…there is more. Lukios, my hunger is not a natural thing. The godsoul is…she is still here.” Ba’an touched her chest. “And she is always hungry. It is why I am…like this. It is why I am…I am dangerous and…”

He was frowning. It was as she thought. Ba’an faltered, voice fading into nothing.

“Ba’an,” he said, and she was startled by how quietly fierce it was, “are you starving to death?”

“I—what?”

“I don’t know anything about gods, but it sounds like this one is making you real hungry. All the time. And…I thought maybe you just weren’t getting enough food, but you eat and you eat and you just…” he reached out and took her wrist in his hand. It was laughably slim, breakable. “You just stay real skinny. So. This god-thing. Is it…do you need to get rid of it?”

“I…I am not starving to death, Lukios.” It was much worse. In truth it was not Ba’an who was consuming; she was being consumed. By a god—a dead one, gone mad with rage.

Ba’an did not know how abominations died. Before Ba’an the A’tat had always executed abominations to keep them from taking more souls, so there was no record, no past wisdom from which she could draw.

But she had a good idea now. A very good idea.

It was not something he needed to know. Telling him would only make him pity her and extend their acquaintance.

“Well, you definitely need more food than you’ve been getting,” he was saying, and she frowned. Had he not understood her point?

“Lukios. I am saying that I am a dangerous creature. I am no longer human, Lukios. I am—I am annes’tat. Unnatural thing. Abomin—abomination. I am so dangerous that the A’tat has stripped me of my name chain and banished me. This is not a small thing. Lukios, this is very serious. You do not understand because you are an outlander, but this is very serious.” She hesitated. If she told him she ate souls he would be persuaded. But then he would ask her why—he always asked the right questions.

Then she would have to tell him—it was to stave off her godsoul. To delay the day of her death. To stopper the parts of her that had been torn out and consumed.

No, no. It was better to leave it here. It was best not to make things complicated, and…

She only wished him to remember her well. That was all. That he would remember her as he thought she was, not as what she truly was.

One selfish wish. Surely she was permitted one.

“You must not invite me into your home so carelessly, Lukios. I will bring misfortune. I am a murderer—no, it is worse. Lukios, Thu’rin is gone. His soul is gone. He will never return on the Wheel. Neither will Enha-naus-hasa-en. They are both gone. Because of me. It is beyond es’tat. It is—”

“Ba’an.”

She stuttered to a stop.

“I don’t care.” He put a finger on her lips. “Wait. Wait. Let me—Ba’an. That wasn’t my first war. People do things. Bad things. If we judged every soldier by what he did on the field we’d be nailing every single one to the cross. All of us. Understand? You can’t take that shit home. You just don’t. So…I don’t care. I don’t care what you did or who you did it to or why. It’s done. It’s over. That’s all.”

Ba’an stared at him, wide-eyed. Did he think this was…?

“…I do not think you understand, Lukios. It is more. It is…I have taken the soul of a god. I am not human, Lukios. I am something else. I am…I am…”

“A spooky witch-lady who lives alone in a cave and saves random travellers?”

“Lukios.”

“Right, you’re not doing that anymore.” He fixed her with a hard look. “You promised. No more bringing strange men home. I mean it.”

She frowned. No, he had not understood. “No, Lukios. I am—I am no longer human. You do not understand, but soul-binding is very—it is very—I am a danger to others. That is why I live alone. Lukios, you—”

“’I am danger to others,’ she says, stitching up strangers and feeding them. Do you listen to yourself?”

It was time to take a different tack.

“Lukios. You have seen Vaa’ti and Salu’ka. They are not good witches, Lukios, and Salu’ka will soon break her oath and step down. They may need me close, in case—”

“Oh fuck. You cannot be serious. You just can’t.”

“I—why can I not be…serious?”

“Ba’an. You—you won the war for them, Ba’an. You—look. Even the day before you showed up we were already talking about heading home. That’s how sure we were. We were talking about all the loot we were going to get once we got into your—your—cave-villages—and—Ba’an. We had all the siege engines outfitted for desert travel. We would have battered your cliff walls down eventually. Get it?

But then you showed up and no one could figure out if there was one of you or ten of you or—if you were Thiós or—look. Morale broke. A whole bunch deserted. It was a disaster. So you won the war, Ba’an. They should be thanking you. They should have built a temple to you—we would have. But they kicked you out instead. That’s fucked up, Ba’an. That’s just fucked up.” He shook his head. “Ungrateful little shits. I should punch your precious A’tat in the jaw.”

“Lukios. You cannot punch the A’tat in the jaw. That is also es’tat.” She paused. “It is also not very practical. The council members are all from different tribes.”

“Oh yeah? Just watch me.”

“Lukios. You are…” she sighed. “I am grateful you think so well of me. I am grateful you have invited me. But I will bring you trouble, Lukios. It is unwise. I am a witch. You must trust my judgment on this.”

He gave her a very strange look. “Ba’an. You…you know I’m not one of your…hunters or raiders or…whatever else, right? I’m not…Ba’an. You can’t just decide for me. I can invite whoever I want and I’m inviting you.”

She frowned at him. “You do not understand because you are an outlander. I am not human, Lukios. You will not prosper with me under your roof.” And the temptation to take souls would always be there. Ba’an avoided cities when she could, because they were like a banquet from which she was barred. It was like sitting at a table groaning with food as she starved, forbidden from touching even a thimble-full of crumbs or a dribble of grease.

Torture. It was torture.

“Wait, wait. Ba’an, forget about me for a second.”

“What?”

“Forget about whatever you think is best for me or whatever else. You’re not a witch anymore, right? So you can forget about that stuff. Just—what do you want? Do you really want to live here by yourself once you get back? I mean…” He looked around. “I like it here, but I wouldn’t have liked it half so much if I were alone. I’d have gone barking mad. I can’t even…I can’t imagine how you managed for five years, Ba’an.” He shook his head. “I just can’t.”

She looked at her toes. It was true. Once Ba’an had made a concoction of nau’tha and sambi-sahi so she would pass in her sleep, but she had feared what her body would do—what if Ba’an died, but Enha-naus-hausa-en did not?

She would become one of the preba, but with the powers of a god. Disaster. Such a thing would be a disaster.

“I hate your cities.”

“Okay. But Synoros isn’t a city. It’s an olive farm. Used to be. It’s right by the desert, so if you ever miss sand you can walk over and visit, and then walk back for dinner.” He leaned forward and pulled her closer. “You’ll like it, Ba’an. You’ll like it a lot. There’s lots of trees and water and…there’s a nice shady spot around the back. You can have a garden there. You’ll like it.”

He was very insistent.

“Lukios.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you truly so worried?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I have lived here five years. I will continue to do so.” Until she died, whenever that was. Today, tomorrow, ten years or twenty—it was impossible to know, though she rather suspected it would be sooner rather than later.

“Ba’an. You really have to ask?” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You really…are you serious?”

“I am always serious, Lukios.”

“Gods, Ba’an. Haven’t I been obvious?”

She frowned at him. “You are very strange, even for an outlander.”

Lukios put his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. “Lukios?” Was he crying? Or was he laughing?

“Ba’an. Ba’an. What am I supposed to…Ha. Hā́idēs take it.” Oh. He was laughing to himself quietly, but it did not sound very humorous. When he brought his face back up, his expression had changed.

This was not her usual Lukios. He wore a face she had only seen in her dreams, but there was no mistaking that look: It was the look of a man who burned for a woman.

Who burned for her.

Oh.

Ba’an met his bright, hungry eyes and her heart fluttered against her ribs, her pulse jumping in her throat, her thighs. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

“Ba’an,” he said, very softly. He reached out cupped her cheek with one hand, running his thumb over her bottom lip. She stared up at him, rooted in place by the force of his gaze alone.

He drew her closer, then kissed her.

The kiss was gentle. Warm. Ba’an sighed softly against his mouth and parted her lips slowly, letting him deepen the kiss as he liked. She put her arms around his neck as he pressed his hand—the one not cradling her head—against the small of her back and pulled her to him. His mouth moved against hers, becoming hungrier and hungrier as they touched. His arms closed around her like the jaws of a steel trap but Ba'an had no thought of escaping.

Her head was filled with the roar of her own blood, the beat of her own pulse. His touch was fire and Ba'an was eager to burn. She put her arms around him, clinging to his neck as she pressed herself to him.

He doesn’t understand. The thought came to her even as she moved with him and ran her hands over his shoulders, the raised scars on his back. He did not know the thing he was holding in his arms now, and if he had known he would have fled already.

She drew away, panting. “Lukios.”

“Mm.” He nuzzled her throat and kissed her jumping pulse. She shuddered and he ran his hand up her spine and tangled his fingers in her hair. He suckled her skin, right beneath her jaw and she could not stop the shiver that overtook her.

“Lukios. You do not—understand—”

He pulled back and looked at her, tilting her chin up gently. “What’s there to understand?" He was breathing hard and he dipped his head down to kiss her on the mouth again, hard and fierce. "I don’t care what you did, Ba’an. I just don’t. You could have another three heads made of snakes and beetles somewhere and I just wouldn’t give a flying fuck.”

“But Lukios, I am—”

He put a finger to her lips. “Ba’an. I keep saying, I’m not one of your hunters and you’re not a witch anymore. If you don’t want me, just say so.” He leaned in so their noses were touching, and when he spoke again his lips brushed hers and she clutched his clothes. “The rest doesn’t matter. It’s not complicated, Ba’an. It doesn’t have to be.” They sat pressed together, listening to the other breathe. Eventually, their breaths slowed and they stirred.

Lukios gave her one last kiss, pressing his mouth against hers chastely before pulling away. He put his hand on Thu’rin’s necklace. “You can think about it as long as you want, Ba’an. I’ll be here.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Let’s get you to bed. You look exhausted.”

Dazed, she stumbled along behind him as he led her back to her bed by the hand. He tucked her in as though she were a child but her mind was too full for protest; she simply lay back obediently and made agreeable noises when he wished her goodnight.

It didn’t have to be complicated.

But it was.

Ba’an was an abomination. She ate souls. She ate souls.

She turned onto her side, facing the wall.

Ba’an was a witch. It was her responsibility to tell him what she was, what an abomination was.

She shifted and lay on her back, staring up at the stars.

No. She was no longer a witch. She had no such responsibilities anymore.

She turned onto her other side, and she saw Lukios lying peaceful and still in his little nest of rugs and blankets.

Lukios did not know. If he knew she ate souls he would—he would—

Ba'an turned over to her other side. She put her hand in her mouth and bit down.

He deserved the truth. She had to tell him.

She took her hand out of her mouth and wiped it on her shift.

But then he would know. He would do the sensible thing and…leave. Leave her.

She curled up into a tight little ball.

But he was leaving her anyway.

He was leaving.

Ba'an tucked her hands under her pillow, knees still drawn up to her chest.

Except…he wanted her to…stay. To go with him and stay. To live with him—like this, but better, because his estate had water and trees and…

People. Ba’an was a danger to others.

She shifted again, restlessly.

Ba'an could not stay with him. It was impossible. Impossible. If he had known what she was, he would—he would—

But he did not care. He had said so himself: I don’t care. So that meant it did not matter if she told him or not. It did not matter because he did not care.

But he did not know. If he knew he would care. Any sensible man would care. It was common sense.

But…but…

“Ba’an.” Lukios’ tone was very mild. “I can hear you complicating from over here.”

She pulled the blanket over her head and hid. “I am thinking,” she muttered, "as you said to," and he snorted softly.

“True. But don’t you want to sleep? It’s almost dawn. We’ll never make it to Kyros if you fall asleep standing, Ba’an.”

“Yes. I am sleeping. Good night.”

“Sleep well, Ba’an.”

Lukios stilled. She could tell by his steady breathing that he was really sleeping now. How did he do it? It was absurd how easily he slept. It was annoying.

She poked her head out from under her blankets. He was sprawled on the floor, and she had a very good view of his bare chest. But she could not see his face—the firepit was in the way.

Slowly, as quietly as she could, she crept out from beneath the blanket and tip-toed over until she was right beside the firepit. There. Now she could see his face.

He was sleeping. Very peacefully. Ba’an crouched with her arms around her knees and looked at him.

This was his last night here. After she returned his spot by the fire would be empty. Everything would be empty.

Unless she went with him. He wanted her to. He had asked. He had insisted. He—

She covered her face with her hands.

No. It did not matter how he felt. He did not know what she was or what was best for him. Ba’an had been a witch, and she was older. She had to be the one who exercised good sense and…and…

Very sweetly, without opening his eyes, Lukios said, “Ba’an.” He moved the blanket aside so his side and the soft fur rug was exposed. “Stop being spooky and come here.”

Ba’an froze. Lukios continued breathing peacefully, though his side must be cold now that it was uncovered.

Lukios was always very warm, and desert nights were cold. The fire had burned down to embers.

It would be very cozy.

She bit her lip. She glanced out the open doorway. Soon the moon would be low in the sky and they would leave for Kyros, and then…

That would be that. They would never see each other again, no matter what Lukios thought.

Very slowly, she crept forward.

Lukios did not move.

Slowly, haltingly, she lay down and tucked her head against his shoulder. Wordlessly, Lukios pulled the blanket down over them both and pulled her against his side.

Yes, he was very warm. And it was very cozy.

She eased her face under the blankets, pressing it against his chest, and closed her eyes.

Just tonight, she decided. Just tonight.