She stared at him. Her mind had gone blank.

He had known who she was this entire time? Ba’an thought back to all the times he had tried to make her laugh, the way he slept across the fire from her as though he had not a care in the world. He even touched her sometimes, going so far as to boldly hold her hand or poke her nose.

He had known?

Was he insane?

“You knew?”

“I…yes. Ba’an, I saw you on the road. I was pretty gone, but not that gone. Kind of hard to miss. Thought about saying something but that’s kind of weird, you know? ‘Hey Ba’an thanks for not killing me and my troops with lightning five years ago while we ran for our lives, really appreciate it.’ Well, now that I’ve gone and said it out loud, it really does sound as terrible as I thought it would.”

He rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish expression. “I mean…” he looked around her not-vuti. “This place definitely looks a little witchy, too. And you—you’re very witchy, though I guess you’ve been trying to hide it. What were you so worried about?”

Ba’an could not stop staring. “You—you are a Dolkoi’ri soldier.”

“I’m retired. I’m a mercenary now, remember?”

“But you—you were a soldier. And I am the Stormcrow. Why did you help me?”

He looked bemused. “Was I not supposed to? I mean, you saved my life. And you’re—we’re—well. We’re not exactly strangers anymore, are we?”

His expression sobered quickly, then darkened.

“I wasn’t going to say anything until you were better, but since we’ve already started this conversation, I’ll go ahead.”

Ba’an curled her blanket into her fists. She had never seen this expression on his face, either.

He looked angry. Genuinely angry.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Do you have any idea how worried I was? What the fuck, Ba’an?” He swiped his hand through his lion’s mane of hair. “I woke up and you were gone. I thought you’d gone out for something but I found your fucking clothes in the privy. What in the fuck was I supposed to think?”

“…I fell down the hole?”

He didn’t even crack a smile. “Not funny.”

He shifted and swung his legs up onto her bed, crossing his legs. Ba’an drew her knees up to her chest to make room. Now they were sitting facing each other. It should have felt crowded—he took up so much space—but it didn’t.

He put her soup down on the flat ledge of the stone bedframe.

He looked at her for a long moment then put a hand over his eyes, breathing out. “Sorry. That came out angrier than I wanted. But for the record: I am pissed. I am incensed with you.” He swallowed, and Ba’an saw the hard knob in his throat bob up and down.

She felt that she ought to say something. “I thought I would return in a day.” Ba’an did not think it was not your business would go over well, despite being true.

“Ba’an.” His voice was grim. “Think. Some K’Avaari came by and asked you for something. Then you had a tussle with one of them, where she called you all sorts of filthy names. Then you tell me, ‘I’m not hungry,’ and go to bed. Ba’an, you eat more than I do. You’re always hungry. If that’s not worrying enough, I wake up and you’re gone, and all your clothes are in the privy.”

He passed his palm over his face, grimacing as his hand caught on his beard. “Ba’an, what was I supposed to think? For all I knew you’d decided to walk off into the desert buck-naked with a death wish, or one of them had come back to…I don’t know, kill you in some kind of ritual murder or something. That Vaa’ti woman had some seriously crazy eyes.”

“…Oh.” Perhaps she should have written him a note on the wall somewhere, except she was certain he could not read K’Avaari, and she could not write Dolkoi’ri.

“’Oh,’ she says.” He leaned forward and Ba’an’s eyes widened as he took her face between his palms. His hands were so big that her entire head felt dwarfed. He pushed his face close to hers, close enough so their noses nearly touched.

“Ba’an. Do you know how fast I ran to get to you, never mind how hard it was to—“ he broke off, voice cracking. She could feel the heat of his breath shivering over her skin, and his hands on her cheeks were very warm. Lukios always seemed to run a little hot. “Anyway. You were in a bad way, Ba’an. I didn’t think you were alive at first. I think I deserve to know what the fuck happened and why.”

He released her and leaned back.

What could she tell him?

“Salu’ka made a bad deal with a spirit-thing in the Eye. It was killing her and her baby. So I killed it.” There. Nice and simple.

Lukios’ stare was incredulous. “Are you shitting me?”

“…No?”

“Ba’an. Are you telling me you flew out to the middle of nowhere by yourself to take care of someone else’s problem? The problem of someone who clearly treated you like…” He made a noise of disgust. “Why would you even consider doing this? They disrespected you. They came into your home and insulted you the entire time, then asked you for a favour—and you…you…I can’t even…argh!”

Abruptly he slid off the bed and stood up in one jerky movement and began to pace the small space in clear agitation, muttering darkly.

Ba’an watched him, feeling like she had done something wrong. Had she? Tik-tak Mal’uk hadn’t been Lukios’ problem. She had thought she was being kind by leaving him out of it. Had she been wrong? Should she have told him?

But what could he have done? She could see he would have tried to dissuade her. If he had succeeded, Ba’an would have not only broken her word to Salu’ka and Ku’rin, she would have doomed both apprentice and child.

Ba’an looked up when she heard him stop pacing. He was looking at her with a tense expression, as though he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should.

“What is it?”

He walked back to the bed and sat down. “If I asked you what’s wrong between you and your people, would you actually tell me?”

Of course, it would have been impossible not to notice by now.

“…I do not know.”

He nodded, as though he had been expecting it. “Well, that’s better than no. Fine. I’ll guess, and you can nod if I get it right and shake your head if I get it wrong. Or you can…you know, just talk to me. Up to you.”

Slowly, she nodded. Her only other alternative was to say she was tired and go to sleep, but it felt like cheating, like something unfair. Which was strange, really, since she really was tired. She wanted to sleep again.

But she also felt guilty.

He looked at her for a long moment before he took a sharp breath. “Why do you live here alone, Ba’an?”

“That is not a yes or no question.”

“Fine. I guess we’ll do it that way. My best guess is that they kicked you out for something. Yes or no?”

She nodded.

“Right. And that involved taking your name away. That Vaa’ti woman kept calling you Ba’an salu-Ba’an like she thought it was funny. That’s some kind of punishment, isn’t it?”

She nodded again.

“Your friend Salu’ka didn’t visit you for ages either, because…I’m guessing there’s some kind of penalty involved.”

Ba’an looked at him, then decided to answer. “Half-right. She was my apprentice. I am nearly ten years older than her.”

Lukios looked surprised. “What? Really? I thought you were the same age.”

“No.” Either Ba’an looked young or Salu’ka looked old. Not that it mattered. He stared at her for a beat too long.

“Okay. Well, I guess that doesn’t matter.” He rubbed his palms against his thighs, absently, as though his palms itched. “Did you do something to the crazy one? She seems to really hate you. Well, I guess she might just be mad, but…” he trailed off.

Ask her what she did to the last one! Ask her! Ask her what she’ll do to you!

Ba’an was certain she wasn’t the only one thinking of what Vaa’ti had said.

“Lukios.”

“Ba’an?”

“I am tired.”

“Oh. Oh shit. I’m sorry.” He picked up her half-eaten soup from the edge of the bedframe and stood. “I didn’t mean to—argh. I’m sorry. You should get some more sleep. We can—we can talk later. When you’re better. Do you want to switch blankets? I think this one’s wet still.”

She shook her head. It was just a bit of water.

Ba’an lay down in her bed. It had been…over three months now. Four? Well, it had been a long time since she had slept in it.

The sheets smelled like Lukios.

He smelled very warm.

She shut her eyes and slept.

Ba’an woke slowly, warm and happy as Thu’rin pulled her against him and kissed his way up her shoulder and throat. They were laying together in the dark, tangled together in her bed; his mouth on her skin had woken her, pulling her gently from sleep with every slow caress of his lips and hands.

He smelled different. Instead of smelling like the hot desert rocks and sandy dunes, he smelled warm and clean, like a sun-drenched room at noon. There was a musky, animal smell underneath, and she felt the familiar hot curl of desire low in her belly. It unfurled slowly as he pressed kisses over her shoulder and throat with a hungry, open mouth until he reached her lips.

He nipped and nibbled until she parted them with a sigh; he pressed his tongue in between her teeth as he settled himself between her legs. She put her arms around him and pulled him against her, fingers threading through his hair. He smelled good. He tasted good.

He was already hard, rubbing himself against her until she was slick and needy; Ba’an made a noise of impatience and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself against him.

Lukios chuckled against her throat.

Ba’an’s eyes popped open in shock.

“Lukios?” What? How--? But—they were—this was the shi-vuti, how could--?

It was him, and before Ba’an could comprehend what was happening he was pressing into her, mouth pressed against hers to swallow her moans. He pushed his tongue in between her teeth even as he pushed himself deeper between her legs, the wet sound of their joining filling the room as she clutched his shoulders, thighs trembling as she took him.

They parted, gasping for breath. Lukios dipped his head and kissed her again, and she kissed him back, aroused and confused. How could he be here? An outlander in a shi-vuti? And—

“Ba’an,” he groaned, and he pressed his forehead against hers as he thrust his hips, slow and deliberate so she could really feel him, feel the heat of him, his strength and passion as he held her to him and filled her over and over again.

Her thoughts scattered, a handful of sand in the wind.

Ba’an moved with him, clutching him to her as her own breaths became jagged, needy pants.

“Lukios,” she gasped, helplessly, “Lukios, Lukios—”

She dug her fingernails into his back as she arched against him and her mouth fell open. Her thighs trembled, toes curling as she whimpered, eyes closing as she began to tighten in pleasure.

Lukios cursed, voice strained, as his thrusts began to lose their rhythm to frantic urgency. He kissed her again and she let him in. Ba’an pressed herself up against him, back arching as she--

Something hot fell against her face and neck, her chest. Ba’an recognized the smell even before she opened her eyes, her throat closing in horror as he slumped against her.

His eyes had gone flat and dead, face slack. His throat was pouring blood and she was covered in it.

The sheets were soaked, hot and sticky and reeking of iron.

Ba’an screamed--or tried to. Only a gasping, wheezing noise made it past her throat and out her mouth. Frantically, she brought her hands up to stem the flow, but she was holding her knife, her ritual knife, the one she had left in the Ancient Place after she had—

No.

No.

"No!"

Finally. A scream. The cry echoed against the walls and rattled her bones, tearing out of her with a life of its own.

Ba'an screamed again.

And again.

And again.

“Lukios! Lukios! No!”

“Ba’an! Wake up! Ba’an!”

She woke up drenched in sweat and panting. She wiped her face with her hands and they came away wet. She had been crying.

“Ba’an. It was just a dream. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. See?” Lukios was sitting on the lip of the bedframe, gently stroking her sweat-matted hair from her forehead.

She tried to sit up and he moved obligingly, helping her prop herself up.

“Hey,” he said, and she slumped forward, pressing her face against his chest. She could hear his heart beating, the rate a little fast as though he’d been running. He’s alive. He’s fine. He put his arms around her and stroked the back of her head as he gently rocked her.

Eventually, her heart stopped trying to hammer its way out of her chest and embarrassment seeped into the space left by her fading horror.

Ancestors. What kind of dream was that? What was wrong with her? Why would she ever dream about…about…

“I am sorry,” she mumbled, “I do not know what is wrong with me.” Her hand snaked up and she clutched Thu’rin’s necklace in her hand so her fingers went white and the teeth bit into her palms. What was wrong with her? Why would she dream about Lukios when--when--

She bit her tongue to keep from swearing.

“Hey,” he said again, and he put his hand over her fist, gently coaxing her into relaxing her grip. “You might hurt yourself if you squeeze like that. I mean, those are teeth. Not saying you have to let go, just…don’t hurt yourself.”

That was true. She didn’t have to let go.

But she didn’t have to hurt herself.

“Yes,” she agreed, and she unclenched her fist. She brought her hand up and placed her palm on Lukios’ cheek. “That is wise.” She couldn’t see his expression with her face against his chest but she felt him lean into her palm. The hand that was on the small of her back tightened, ever so slightly, and Ba’an sighed as his other hand left her hair. He gently cupped the hand that was resting on his cheek and laced his fingers through hers. She felt him turn his head and brush his lips against her skin.

Ba’an looked up, just in time to see him tilt her hand back and rub her palm with his thumb. He smiled down at her wryly at her surprised stare.

“It left a mark,” he explained, and Ba’an could see he was right: there was an angry red imprint of a cliff-cat tooth on her palm.

“Oh.”

The night was starting to get a little too strange. He’s leaving soon, remember? Did the sun bake the brains inside your skull? Well, it was possible. She gently untangled her fingers from his and placed her hand on his chest, pushing back slightly so she could look at him properly.

“How long has it been?” Ba’an had a feeling she had slept for a very, very long time. Lukios had had the time to travel to the Eye, then travel back again, her unconscious body in tow. That would have slowed him a great deal.

“Since you left? I think…three weeks or so?”

“Three weeks?” She tried to shift through the days in her head. If Lukios had left as soon as he’d seen the lightning, it would have taken him something like four days to get to the Eye on foot, assuming he walked and slept normally. He had said he’d rushed, so she thought perhaps it had been two or three days. He had likely dealt with her dehydration and sunstroke at the Eye itself, only moving her once she was stable. So that had been…perhaps two days? He must have camped frequently on the way back. Ten days?

Regardless, it was bizarre that she was alive at all. She should have been dead, no matter what he had done to save her. Human bodies were fragile.

But Ba’an was an abomination. She’d eaten the ancient thing in the Eye. Perhaps it had strengthened her even as it sickened her.

Even so, if Lukios had not come for her at all, she would have died for certain.

“Thank you for finding me, Lukios. I am sorry I bit you.”

He let out a startled laugh. “You remember that? Well, you’re welcome. You saved me first, after all.” He sobered quickly. “Just...don’t do anything so dangerous ever again. I thought my heart would give out.”

What a strange thing to say.

“I was not planning to die. I thought it would be easy.” Well, Ul’ma had always cautioned Ba’an against her natural overconfidence. Even now, Ul’ma was right.

“Right. You were going to fly back the next day. Ba’an, has anyone ever told you your sense of danger is a bit skewed? I mean, you think pissing off a wasp nest for a handful of honey is a good idea.”

Ba’an frowned. That wasn’t right at all. “No. I am often correct. I was wrong about Tik-tak Mal’uk. It will not happen again.”

“Tik-tak whatsit?”

“That was the name of the spirit. Tik-tak Mal’uk. It is dead. I killed it.” And eaten its soul, but he didn’t need to know that part.

“Congratulations. Next time, just walk away.” He paused. “It worries me, how reckless you are.” Because I’ll be gone soon, she finished for him in her head.

“Do not worry. I have lived here alone for five years. I am still alive.”

“Wow. Five years.” He was silent for a long while, and Ba’an found he was too tall to keep looking at. Ba’an’s neck was starting to hurt so she went back to leaning against his chest. His arms came around her and held her loosely. One hand began absently stroking the small of her back. “Why do you stay here?”

The question confused her. “Where would I go?” She was a desert creature, too.

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Ba’an, you can turn into a flock of birds.”

She frowned. Sometimes, when times were lean, Ba’an had stayed for weeks and weeks as crows. The advantage had been that she could forage with each part of her separately and eat whatever she found raw. She needed not nearly as much food per crow, either. But what was the point of living like that? Besides, the more power she expended, the more souls she would need.

With each soul she would become more abomination than human. Even now, gentler spirits avoided her, fearful of being devoured.

“The magic is very taxing. Why do you think I am always hungry?” And not just for food, either.

“Oh. That makes sense.” He continued stroking her back. “But you could still travel. You said you go to Kyros from time to time. There are other cities.”

Ba’an had a feeling he was getting at something, but she could not quite tell what. Lukios was being very strange tonight.

“I do not like your cities.”

“Ha! Right. Well, there are other wild places too. Did you know that if you go north—much further north—it’s so cold that the rain comes down like powder? We call it ‘snow’.”

Snow. Ba’an had never heard of such a thing. She had seen ice before, at the very top of the Ancient Place—it had been very cold there. So cold that the water had frozen in places, and their breaths had come streaming out of their mouths like mist. But she had never seen powder falling from the sky.

“And the animals they have there are strange, too. There was once a trader that came down from there, and he had the skin of a furry elephant. He called it a mammoth. It was enormous.”

Ba’an thought of the bones of strange, nameless creatures she had seen inside the rock of the Eye. She believed him, though she did not know what an ‘elephant’ was.

“Or you could go west. There are these islands…” He continued talking, and Ba’an shut her eyes as she listened. His voice was pleasantly husky and low, and she could hear his heart beating against her cheek, slow and steady now that he was calm. Slowly, her eyelids drooped closed and she began to drowse.

Eventually, she slept.