Micah took a long breath when they stepped outside of the cave. The main part of the Compound was nearby—a series of family caves all connected to each other by winding tunnels and stairs. Viv had insisted on living apart, in a cave home someone from the Black family had abandoned almost a century before, but she still knew every step of the Compound. She used to walk the tunnels with Zev when they were young, whispering to each other until their parents found them. Except Zev turned out not to have a parent at all, but a captor.
She hadn’t heard of Evgen, the former headman who’d used Zev as a tool and a servant, since he was exiled into the wilderness. Some in the community tried to pretend none of it had ever happened, but a few were talking seriously about elections and reform, while others had moved to the village by the hills, leaving their cave homes empty.
“We have a communal stock of supplies,” Viv explained to Micah as they walked. He flinched every time someone passed by, so Viv kept on one side of him while he stayed close to the wall, running his hand along the smooth stone. “You have to give some to take some, and there’s usually someone there to mark everything down so no one takes too much.”
“Which means we’ll be talking to at least one person, but they’ll be bored as fuck,” Sasha said. “Easy as pie.”
“Pie isn’t easy, though.”
“It’s a saying,” Viv said, patting Micah on the arm. “And maybe your pies are complicated because they’re magic.”
“No, it’s because of the butter. I hate churning it, so it always ends up soggy.”
“Hey, I’ll churn all the butter you like,” Sasha said in his most suggestive tone. Viv made a sound of disgust, and he laughed.
Then he stepped into the trading room, and his cheerful expression faded like a candle blowing out.
“Oh.” Viv’s mother, Daria, stared at the three of them, her arms wrapped around a heavy bag of wool. “Sasha, Vivian.”
“Morning, ma’am,” Sasha said. Micah looked from Daria to Viv—clearly, he must have seen the similarity in their faces—and Viv tightened her grip on his arm.
“Vivian, it’s good to see you.” Daria stepped forward, pushing a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “You’re… you’re well?”
“Doing better.”
“Oh. Oh, that’s good. I’m so glad.” She adjusted her hold on the bag. “And who’s this? A friend?”
Viv opened her mouth to say that her mother had no right to ease into her life after spending so long avoiding having any part of it, but she stopped as Micah cleared his throat.
“Micah. I’m a witch, too. And I make things.”
Daria’s eyes widened, and the bag slipped out of her hands. “A… a witch. Oh. Oh, that’s…”
“I know you hate magic, Mother. You don’t have to pretend.” Viv tugged on Micah’s arm.
“It’s just that it’s dangerous, darling. You don’t know what it can do.”
“Don’t call medarling.” Viv blushed hot, and Sasha stepped in front of her, shielding her from her mother’s gaze. “You never called me anything before. And I have enough to deal with right now.”
“Enough to… Is something wrong? Are you sick?”
Viv rolled her eyes. “Nothing you can or want to help with, I promise. Unless you know how to stop a mirror person.”
Daria’s brows furrowed. “A mirror person?”
“It’s nothing. We have things to do right now.”
“Of course.” Daria drew back and walked around them on the way out the door, leaving the wool behind, which made Viv feel like a monster. She knew her mother regretted neglecting her. She knew Daria was trying to make it right. It was just so hard to look at her without remembering being young and desperate for a kind face, only for her mother to look past her as though she weren’t even there. And her father didn’t help at all. He left and found another family to love, never giving Viv a chance. That felt almost worse.
“Sorry, babe,” Sasha whispered, and Viv let go of Micah to run her hands over her face.
Micah picked up the bag of wool. “Her hands were shaking.”
“Thanks, Micah. I already feel like the world’s worst daughter to the world’s worst mother. Twist the knife in deeper.”
Micah shook his head, looking down at the wool in his hands. “It wasn’t that. She was scared. I know what it looks like.”
“She’s always rabbity around Viv,” Sasha said, heading over to a pile of firewood, stone, and clay in the corner. “I’d be, too, if I took her for granted.”
