She still couldn’t figure out what was killing her masu’kla. Today she had found even more wilting plants, shriveling prematurely as though the water had been sucked out of them. Her other plants were fine. It was only the masu’kla.

What was it?

She began digging one up to see the roots. Perhaps there was an infestation? It was true Ba’an had been busy with her…guest. Perhaps something unsavory had taken hold out of sight, beneath the dirt. Frowning, she expanded her spiritual senses, listening. Immediately her mind was filled with the clamouring of a countless number of souls—from the little rodents scurrying out of sight through the tunnels to the worms that crawled through the dirt beneath her. It was loud, and it made it hard to focus on one thing--

As usual, she heard him coming up the hill before she saw him. His presence was simply too overwhelming with her senses open, so she closed herself up again. Ba’an sighed. What was so hard about lying in bed? She could hear his shuffling steps and the hard tap-tap-tap of her walking stick on the cave floor coming closer and closer. She’d left him her walking stick so he could go to the privy, not so he could stalk her. Was he really so bored? She had prescribed him some simple exercises already, to be done every hour. She had left him some riddles to keep him occupied on top of that. Had they not been enough?

Did he need a top and some marbles as well?

“Before you start scolding me,” Lukios said as soon as he crested the hill, “I thought I’d tell you lunch is ready.”

What?

Ba’an blinked, then tilted her head to look upward.

He was right. The sun had already moved from its zenith. She had worked straight through lunch time.

He must have been hungry.

He was clutching the stick a little too tightly, and she could see a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. He had pushed himself to walk up the hill.

Ba’an immediately scowled.

“Oh, that’s not good.” Lukios held up a hand. “I promise my stitches are fine.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm. “I’m just horribly out of shape from lying in bed all day and night.” He flashed her another of his charming grins.

Ba’an’s expression did not change. His grin faltered. Ba’an was certain he was used to charming his way into and out of trouble; if he thought that would ever work on her, he had a rude awakening coming. Ba’an remained stoically unimpressed by his antics.

“Um…I’m sorry?”

Ba’an sighed. She dusted the dirt off her hands and stood, stretching. Her back was sore and so were her knees. She felt the blood rush to her head and swayed, momentarily disoriented. She heard him take a step forward before he stopped.

“You okay, Ba’an?”

“Yes.” She looked at the masu’kla again and sighed. She would have to deal with it later. “You made lunch?”

“Yeah. Nothing fancy, just thought you might be hungry. You’ve been at it all morning.” He was right. She was hungry. As usual.

“I…forgot time. You were hungry?”

“Sure. Lying in bed doing nothing really works up an appetite.” He smiled at her again, recovering his cheek.

“Apologies.” Ba’an sighed again. Why was there always so much to do in a day?

“I was joking, Ba’an. I’m not that hungry. I don’t really do enough to work up an appetite, you know? But you probably do.” He gestured to the plants. “What’s wrong with those?”

“I do not know. That is problem.”

“Oh. Well, how about some lunch and then you can get back at it?”

“Yes.” She paused. “Thank you.”

His grin widened, showing off his straight, white teeth. “Don’t thank me until you’ve tried it. I never actually learned how to cook.”

Oh.

It was really not that bad.

It wasn’t that good, but it wasn’t that bad. In truth, it was more than acceptable. Ba’an wasn’t much of a cook, either.

Besides all that, Ba’an was not a picky eater—not anymore. She ate nearly anything, these days.

“Wow,” he said, watching her tuck away her third serving, “You must have been starving. I mean, I know it’s not that good.”

“Yes, I was…much…hungry.” She paused to look at him before she put the next spoonful in her mouth. The soup was very close to what she usually made. He really had been paying attention. “Your food is…acceptable.”

The corners of his lips twitched upwards into a smile. “’Acceptable’, huh? I’ll take it. That’s better than I was expecting.”

“…What were you expecting?”

His smile widened into a grin. “I thought you were going to tell me I made a bad decision with the rao-rao roots. Couldn’t find anything else I recognized, though.”

“Only that?”

“Well…I thought you’d make that clicking sound with your tongue again, too.”

Ba’an’s response was automatic. She stopped herself after the first disapproving click of her tongue.

“See?” He seemed far too amused to be charming. “You’re scrunching up your nose now.”

Ba’an forced herself to stop. This only seemed to amuse him more; she heard a little wheeze as he tried to keep himself from laughing.

“Do not laugh. It will hurt.”

“I know, I know. I’m trying. Can you try to be less…you know?”

“I do not know.”

“Never mind.” He hid his grin behind his hand, completely unsubtle. “I baked some of those mushrooms too. Want some? I think they should be done by now.”

Ba’an tilted her head so she could see beneath the cauldron. Ah-ha. He had placed the mushrooms in a covered clay bowl. Now that she was paying attention, she thought she could hear a little sizzling sound. Oh, this would be very good. She loved baked mushrooms—all kinds of mushrooms.

“Yes. I will take them from fire. Do not stand.” She gave him a stern look and he obeyed with a smile that was too sweet to be believable. Ugh. Insufferable man.

Ba’an grabbed the metal stick she used to poke the fire and carefully pushed the bowl out of the flames. She grabbed her apron, folding the fabric multiple times before using it to pick up the hot bowl and placing it onto the rock floor.

“Here.” Ba’an wasn’t too hungry to mind her manners. She served him first, though he declined the extra portion.

“You can take the rest. You really like these, right?” Had she been that obvious?

“Yes. I like mushrooms.” What else had he noticed? Ba’an tried not to let her unease show on her face. It would not be good if he realized who she was. He was Dolkoi’ri, and like most of their men, had likely served in the army. Letting him go could—

She stifled a sigh. Why had she saved this man? Now things were more complicated. Ba’an did not want to kill him after the trouble she had gone through to save him in the first place. If only he were more of a dullard, she would not have these…concerns.

“Um, Ba’an? Is something wrong?”

“No.” Yes. It would be unwise to tell him she was thinking of killing him in his sleep.

“Well, if you say so. By the way, I figured out your riddles. The third one was pretty hard.” Ba’an lifted an eyebrow. He had figured them out already? Well, perhaps it was not so strange. It had taken Vaa’ti slightly longer to figure out the third riddle, and Salu’ka had taken nearly a full day.

“Very well. What answer?”

“Okay, the first one is ‘fish’.” Ba’an nodded. He was correct.

“The second one is…I think it’s ‘time’, right?”

“Yes.” She frowned. Had they really been that easy?

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Last one’s ‘love.’”

Ba’an blinked in surprise, her hand going to the necklace of teeth around her neck. “No.”

“What? Really?”

“Really. Try again.”

Lukios’ forehead crinkled into a frown. “Wait, really? But…” He began to mutter the riddle to himself again. Ba’an popped another mushroom into her mouth. Oh, she enjoyed bir-tali very much. They were even better when salted but she did not wish to waste the salt rock she had left. It was expensive. Lukios had finished muttering to himself in the meantime and was frowning at her. “Are you sure?”

Ba’an had had difficulty with the translation, which was perhaps the problem. Even so, it was somewhat insulting to be asked if Ba’an was sure. Of course Ba’an was sure. It was her riddle. The look she gave him was thoroughly unimpressed.

“I am sure.” Her tone was as dry as the sand in the dunes outside.

“Okay. Hm. I might need a bit more time with that one.”

Ba’an shrugged. “There is much time. Do not worry.”

“Right. But I was sure I’d gotten it.” He sighed. “Oh well. Hey, Ba’an, have you thought about making traps to catch more animals? I was thinking I could make some since I’m, you know, doing absolutely nothing. What do you think?”

“I have traps. They are in cave and cliffs.”

“Really? I should have known. Well, do you want me to make you some extra? You can save time that way.”

Ba’an pushed away her guilt by putting another mushroom on his plate and glaring at him until he took it.

It would be a waste to kill him. And—surely she could return him using a route that was confusing? It would do him no good even if he did guess who she was if he could never find her not-vuti again. He was Dolkoi’ri, not K’Avaari. Desert geography could not possibly be something he was good at.

Yes, it was best not to be hasty with these things. She had already killed enough to last her a lifetime. This one and the next, and the one after that.

“You not need worry for traps.”

“I’m not worried. I’m just…you know. Kind of useless right now. I can’t say I like it that much. Are you sure there isn’t something I can do while lying down or sitting?”

Ba’an chewed thoughtfully on her mushroom and swallowed. It was true that complete bedrest could be detrimental. The muscles needed some use, which was why she had made him do his flexing exercises every hour. He also walked a bit every day, which seemed to be comfortable enough unless he did something stupid like walk uphill.

Did she have something he could do?

“Yes,” she said, finally. “Yes, there is something.”

He grinned.

“Remember: Stop if feel pain. Understand?”

“I will. I promise.” Lukios looked delighted, which struck Ba’an as very strange. There was bored, and then there was Lukios. Sometimes she did not even know what she was supposed to think, never mind say, when he acted up the way he did. Did he simply not feel pain? She had not dosed him nearly enough for him to be so…cheerful.

Why was he always so cheerful?

Was he actually an idiot?

Perhaps Ba’an worried over nothing.

Or perhaps he was just so clever that he had her neatly fooled.

It was truly difficult to tell, sometimes.

Ba’an had taken the herbs she had dried on the roof of her not-vuti and stacked them by type in the kitchen, and then she had made a little nest for him on the floor by taking the leather-and-fur rug as well as her own blankets and piling them up. Then she had rolled up his blanket to create a backrest so he could lean comfortably against the wall.

His only task—aside from his hourly exercises—was to grind up her herbs and put the powder into bags. Ba’an had instructed him to label the bags as well, which she expected to be a challenge because he could not read or write K’Avaari. To make things simple she had labelled the bags she had already filled and put them at the head of each pile of herbs. All he had to do was copy the label that was on that bag. Easy.

Except maybe it wasn’t. Looking at the distance between the nearest and furthest pile, it looked like he would have to shuffle forward to finish up. Ba’an bit her lower lip lightly, wondering if she ought to just take away the furthermost pile.

“It’s fine! Don’t worry.” He grinned at her in a reassuring way. “I won’t over-extend myself. You don’t have to move anything. Don’t you have a garden mystery to solve?”

Ba’an frowned. How had he known what she was thinking?

“I’ll be fine. Get going Ba’an. You’re burning daylight!” What a strange expression. How could daylight burn? She gave him a look that she hoped communicated her thoughts about his oddness. Perhaps it worked; he made the little wheezing sound he resorted to when he was trying to suppress a laugh.

“Yes, yes, the outlander is crazy. I get it. But my hands work fine. Hey, wanna race?”

“No. That is stupid.”

“Oh, come on. Let’s say if I finish labelling these before you solve your garden mystery, you’ll…hm…answer three questions with complete honesty. How about it?”

Well, that was suspiciously specific. How dangerous. “No. That is stupid. You hurt self.” She paused to give him a cool look of superiority before saying snippily, “You lose anyway.”

“Oh hoho. You can’t say that and expect me to back down. Come on Ba’an. You know you want to. You’re going to win anyway, so what are you so scared of?”

“You hurt self and I must stitch again. Very annoying.”

“Oh come on. I promised I wouldn’t do anything stup—”

“You did not keep.”

“I did.”

“No. You walk uphill. Very stupid.”

“I used a stick. I was fine. Nothing ripped. How is that stupid?”

“Risk is stupid.”

“Aw, come on Ba’an. Don’t tell me you’re scared you’ll lose. It’s only three little questions.” This she found doubtful, though she was disturbed he seemed to think she would answer honestly if he won.

He wasn’t wrong. Ba’an was—had been—K’Avaari. She was not practiced at lying, which Dolkoi’ri seemed to excel at. It was probably written all over her face every time she said something untrue, or even half true. She stifled a sigh.

Perhaps he knew more about K’Avaari customs than he let on?

“No.”

“Why not?” He gave her an exaggerated look of interest. “Are you keeping some terribly nasty secrets tucked away somewhere? Oh, do you have bodies buried under your garden? Or maybe in the walls?” He widened his eyes dramatically. “Oh, I get it. You’re going to fatten me up and then eat me, right? Like in those awful children’s tales? You made a mistake with the whole cave-thing. You should have made this place out of sweets.”

“Like said. Stupid.” She clicked her tongue at him in irritation. She had no idea what awful children’s tales he was referring to. K’Avaari children’s tales did not include stories about…vuti made of sweets. What kind of nonsense story was that?

He snickered. “There you go with the tongue-clicking and nose-wrinkling.” Lukios grinned at her again, and when he spoke again his tone was gratingly jovial. “What happens if I keep going? Will your head actually explode?”

“No. Your head explode. Because I drop pot on it. Stop talking.”

He made his little wheezing sound again. “I’ll be awfully impressed if you do. That cauldron’s big, and you’re just so tiny. I don’t even know how you get it over the fire without snapping in half.”

“Lukios. Stop. Talking.”

“But Ba’an, you like it.”

She glared at him. She did not like it. He was chattier than a kia-kia bird. Insufferable. How had his tongue not wagged itself out of his mouth?

“You like it. Do not drag me in.”

Lukios leaned forward then stopped, wincing. Stupid.

“Ahh…ouch. Okay, no leaning, that was dumb. But Ba’an, you like it when I say stupid things. It gives you something to be grumpy about. And you really like being grumpy. Sometimes I can hear you being grumpy in your cave all the way from over here. It’s an incredible talent you’ve got.”

“I not—I am not grumpy. I am serious. That is different.”

“Oh, okay. I guess you’re wrinkling your forehead now because you’re being serious, not grumpy.”

“You are—you are—" Ba’an spluttered. Her Dolkoi’ri was simply not good enough, so she switched to K’Avaari. “Completely insufferable. I’m sure you got stabbed because you couldn’t stop running your mouth for three seconds. I’d return you now if I had a strifa to tie you to, but it would take one look at you and run.”

Lukios stared at her. “Oh wow. That’s more than you’ve said in three days. Usually it’s ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ ‘that’s stupid,’ ‘lie down.’” He grinned. “Too bad I understood maybe three words of that. Something about…mouths, tying me, and taking me?” His grin broadened as he snickered, delightedly. “That’s real naughty, Ba’an. I would have never guessed you had it in you. You’re just so prim and proper all the time.”

What? The man was insane. Insane.

“I am going. Do not talk.” Glaring, Ba’an stood and retreated. Behind her, she could hear him wheezing as he tried his best not to laugh.

Insufferable. The man was just insufferable.

Ba’an had been right. There had been something beneath the soil. Frowning, she looked at the snails eating the roots of her masu’kla. Strange. The saa’ri-lahi should have kept the pests off, but it hadn’t worked. Why?

Ba’an took some saa’ri-lahi leaves and stuck them into her mouth. They tasted fine. Astringent and bitter, just the way they were supposed—ah. She spat them out. Well, they were mostly right, but perhaps there was something in the soil. The taste was a bit sweeter than usual. Had Ba’an used the wrong kind of compost? She didn’t think so. Had she changed anything?

Or…perhaps she had planted them too far apart? Gauging the distance was a bit harder since the garden was terraced. Moisture was harder to control, too. Perhaps it was that?

Ah well. Regardless, she had to get rid of the snails. Ba’an plucked one and inspected it. It was a brown snail, which was edible. Hm.

When Ba’an walked into the kitchen, Lukios was hard at work. He looked up at her with a grin, which she promptly ignored. She rummaged for a clay pot as he spoke to her back.

“Did you figure it out already?”

“Yes.” She found the pot she had wanted and began to walk back to the cave.

“Oh. Guess you were right, I would’ve lost.” It was true. He wasn’t anywhere near finished. “Too bad you didn’t want to race. You could have won something.”

“Like?”

“Um…three questions?”

Ba’an snorted. “I not have questions.”

“Really? Not even one?”

“No.” There was no point in getting to know him better. Once he was well enough, she would send him to the nearest Dolkoi’ri city, Kyros, with a request that he ensure K’Avaari were not blamed for the incident. And that would be that. The end.

“Wait, really? You’re serious?” Ba’an turned her head to look at him. He seemed genuinely surprised.

“I am.”

“Oh. That’s…huh. Not even a little curious? I mean, what if I’m some kind of ax-murderer?”

“You are not.”

“…How would you know?”

Very seriously, she said, “You not have axe.”

He guffawed, and she made a noise of alarm. “No, do not laugh!”

He winced in pain and stopped, wheezing. “Ow. Yup. That was dumb. But damn, Ba’an. You hiding a sense of humor in there?”

It was true. She had meant to be funny, but now she was only embarrassed and ashamed. It had been childish to make a man with a belly wound laugh.

She turned away with a delicate little sniff. “I not hide anything.”

He snickered quietly to himself. “No, but seriously. How do you know I’m not some dangerous maniac?”

“I know.” That wasn’t strictly true, but it was true enough. His soul song sounded bright, and nothing like any of the sadists she’d ever met. There was nothing about him that made her suspect he would harm her for no reason other than pleasure. Of course, he could harm her for other reasons—like if he ever found out who she was. Ba’an thought most Dolkoi’ri men—especially soldiers—would find that justifiable, if not an outright requirement. They were violent when their pride was pricked, which was nearly always.

Of course, Ba’an could be wrong about these things too. Soul-reading was no sure thing—but she was willing to risk it. Ba’an was not often wrong.

“Well, if you say so.” He looked doubtful, and she thought he looked faintly concerned, as well. How…curious. “But hey, you could have asked for something else. Like, maybe have me make all the meals for a week or something.”

“No. Stitches could rip. Trouble.”

“Should have known you’d say that. Hey, you need any help with—“

“No.” She looked at him sternly. “Remember to do exercise. Rest if hurt. Do not lean out.”

He smiled again. “Right. Don’t worry. I’ll get this done soon—without ripping anything open. Promise. Let me know if you want anything, though I guess you probably won’t.”

“Be well, Lukios. Do not rip anything.”

The path up the cliff and over to the other side was dangerous at night. It was a narrow footpath on a steep incline then sudden decline, and it wound its way around the cliff wall as sinuously as a snake. There were few handholds along the wall of the cliff itself. All this combined with low visibility made this venture somewhat…unwise.

But Ba’an had had very little choice. Lukios was an early riser; he was awake before even the first light of the sun had filtered in through the roof of her not-vuti. He woke earlier than she did and went to bed later than she did. The only time she would be able to escape his notice was in the dead of night.

From a common-sense perspective, it had already occurred to Ba’an that he would perhaps notice nothing if she went to check the traps in the day. After all, that is what she normally did. But Ba’an could not bring herself to…do what she needed to when she knew he was awake. He had a terrible habit of simply appearing whenever he was bored, and he pushed himself more than he should.

What if he decided to follow her out to the traps one day and saw her? Of course, he was not likely to be able to take the incline in his condition now, but that hadn’t stopped him from going uphill and downhill inside the bir-vuti.

Lukios was a bad patient. He did all sorts of things he wasn’t supposed to. It drove her mad, but it also made her extra vigilant.

It was very unlikely, Ba’an knew. And yet the thought of doing this in the day when he was awake filled her with a kind of…dread? No. Not quite dread. Something close, but not quite.

She had tried to make herself take a soul during the day when she normally checked the traps, but her heart had pounded the entire time and she had not been able to stop glancing around the canyon.

So this was the only way.

Outside the sheer cliff walls was a valley of spindly akaikai trees. It was a popular shady spot for animals to rest, which meant it was a perfect spot for a trap or two. Sometimes, her timing was poor and she only found a ruined trap with the animal gone, or she found a carcass which was fine for eating but not for this.

Tonight she was lucky, and there was a desert fox. It was still alive, though barely; it had fought, and the noose had tightened around its neck to the point of strangulation. It must have been caught recently, as it had not yet expired.

Ba’an approached the captured creature. “Shhh,” she said, and she reached out with just a bit of magic to calm it. It was dying, its soul tethered to its body by only a thread. That did not mean it could not feel pain. Ba’an reached in and snipped the parts that sent signals to the nerves, and the animal slumped to the ground.

She put her hand over its head and took hold of its soul, and then she snipped the thread and…ate it. The sigh escaped her before she could stop it.

Finally. Relief.

Not total relief—a fox’s soul was hardly enough for a snack, never mind a full meal. But it felt like a mouthful of cool water after a day’s work in the sun: not enough, but better than nothing at all. The yawning hunger inside her withdrew, just a little.

Ba’an could stop fantasizing about doing the same to Lukios now. It had been very hard—his soul was so bright and loud. But she could be more civil now, though she would check the other traps before going back, too.

But first—Ba’an tightened the noose. She did not waste food, but a dead body without a mark would lead to questions. It was better to make sure it looked like it had died struggling against the wire around its neck than anything else.

If he asked, she would simply tell him she had been restless and had gone to check the traps. That should work, particularly since she had something to show for it. Yes, that would work—and it wasn’t strictly a lie, either.

Right.

Ba’an picked up the carcass and moved onto the next trap.