Page 30 of Autumn of the Witch

It had been nice to see him and Sasha together the night before. While Micah took to affection like an abandoned cat in the woods, jittery and uncertain, he’d practically melted when Sasha touched his hair. They were sweet, Viv decided as she got up to work on her weaving. They would do well together if… if something happened.

She flexed her fingers, and the ache in her wrists traveled up her arms.

“Baby?”

She looked around. Sasha had his hunting gear slung over a shoulder. Micah was working with clay by the table, his brow furrowed, hair falling over his eyes.

Sasha leaned in to kiss her, blocking Micah from view. “Baby, you know I love you.”

“Let me guess. You want to fight tonight.”

Sasha shook his head. “Not tonight. Half moon, in a week. Aiden’s back in the circle, and I have my honor to protect.”

“You have honor?” Viv smiled at Sasha’s look of mock outrage. “All right. But if Aiden goes for your head—”

“Duck this time. I know: concussions are bad. Yes, ma’am.” Sasha kissed her again and turned to head up to the main exit.

“And if you see anyone who looks like me out there, run.”

“Toward it or away?” Sasha shouted back, but he was already out the door, letting it thump in place after him. Viv sighed and finally got to work on her loom.

“Why is he fighting?” Micah asked. Viv didn’t look up, hoping her aches were just the result of sleeping on the couch. “And what’s the circle?”

“Fighting circle. A bunch of people from the Compound get together in the fighting pits and make bets on who’s going to win the most matches. It’s like wrestling, but you hit people with your fists, so everyone loses a tooth at least once. I had to magic Sasha’s front tooth back in a month ago, actually. And he’s terrible at betting, so he always loses.”

“What does he bet with?”

Viv fell into the rhythm of her weaving, and so did her words: pausing when she did, picking up when she leaned forward to use the shuttle. “Things we can afford to lose. Don’t worry. We’d never go hungry because of a few bets.”

“What if he gets hurt, though?” She glanced Micah’s way. He was still working the clay, completely focused, and there were strange shapes lined up on the table. “What if someone hates him, and they try to beat him badly enough he can’t recover?”

“There are rules. We generally try to fight honorably, here. And no one hates Sasha. Helikesgetting beat up a little.” She smiled. “Or more than a little.”

Micah stopped, setting down the clay. She could see him jiggling his leg under the table, despite his quiet tone. “About that. Is that something you also like? Giving him pain.”

“Oh, I love it.” Viv tried not to smile at Micah’s bewildered look. “You’ve never heard of a sadist? Or a masochist?”

“I… know the words. I was never really told much about dominance or submission in general. It was assumed I wouldn’t…” A shadow of pain passed over his face. “It was assumed I wouldn’t need to know.”

“Bastards,” Viv said, and Micah looked down. “But you know it’s normal, right, to give a submissive pain if they want it? To like the way it sounds when they’re begging you for it? I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to find Sasha. You can work him over for hours, and he’ll be happy as a cat in a sunbeam.”

Micah was silent for a long moment. “Or a wolf pup in a leaf pile.”

“See? You know him already.” Viv went back to her weaving. “The first time he asked me to use my magic on him, I was so afraid I’d stop his heart with it that I dropped after the first attempt. I was a mess, Micah. Fussing over him, asking him if he was okay, whether he could feel his fingers—and do you know what that man had done? He came without permission. Right there. First try with the magic.”

Micah chuckled, and Viv went into a long story about their first time playing with knives, including the embarrassing part when Sasha made a terrible cooking pun and Viv had to leave him tied up for a minute while she wept with laughter into the mattress. Micah didn’t contribute much after that, but he did smile a little more, and she could tell he was listening.

“Thank you,” he said, after a moment. “For talking to me.”

Viv wanted to press his cheeks together and hold him that way until he admitted he didn’t have to thank people for enjoying his company, but she knew that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

Sasha came back from hunting with skinned rabbits and no reports of weird creatures in the woods, and Micah scrubbed the clay off his hands so he could make them a meal. Viv lay back on the couch to watch, trying to ignore the aches in her joints and the fatigue slowly creeping over her as Sasha taught Micah how to cook rabbit the way they prepared it in the Compound. The kiln warmed the entire cave that evening, and Micah again went through the uneasy dance of joining them on the couch.

It was like watching a pattern form on a loom. As the days went by, Micah eased into their lives as though he’d always been there. He started cleaning the floors “for something to do”and burned red when Sasha complimented him. He disappeared with some supplies and tools and came back with a little footstool once he saw how often Viv shifted position when she read on the couch, and he used dyes from Viv’s storage to paint the creation he was working on at the table—a blue-and-white dragon puppet suspended on strings.

“There are carvings of them, in the village,” Micah said, making the dragon soar through the air and open its mouth as though to roar. “You can find rocks on the beach with carvings of a dragon sometimes, but no one knows who made them or when.”

“My little cousin Yulia would love that,” Sasha said, and Micah handed it to him. “Wait. You’re sure?”

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