They finished their breakfast in silence, although Yongsoon had lost much of her appetite. Fatigue and her racing mind set her on edge. She spilled her second cup of tea in the kitchen, and stayed there long enough that Imri quietly brought her plate of unfinished food with his and put them in the stone basin filled with dishes.

“I’m sorry I’m a bit unsociable. It’s been a long time since I’ve cohabitated with someone.” She drank the last of the tea, feeling better for its warmth and blend of revitalizing herbs. She’d likely have to make more sooner than later but she would manage through the day.

“It’s okay. I imagine it’s hard to have someone in your house if you live alone. I’m sorry She didn’t give you proper warning. She’s not a very good communicator, although I think She enjoys being enigmatic and obtuse.” The witch had to laugh, for no one spoke of Mother Midnight like that. She imagined her new charge had particular insights on how the boogeyman of their kind might behave. He was calm and steady, and she liked that. He wasn’t afraid of his warden, and she liked that too. She found herself warming to him already, unusual for her but boding well for his residency with her.

“I’m sure She does. Keeps Her from having to work very hard on being scary to humans and witches alike.” Without waiting for him, she stretched her shoulders and neck and went back to work on clearing the storage room.

The food and tea had helped and the pair redoubled their effort to clear the room of its contents. After a little negotiation, he even claimed a couple pieces of furniture for his own use. Nothing extravagant but enough to keep him from having to pile his belongings in the corners of the room. There had been extra bedding too, remnants from when Annise’s children might spend the night when they were younger. Clara had even spent a few years living with her when she was teenager and so there were plenty of pillows and comforters to keep them both warm through the winter.

Finding new homes for her newly displaced belongings was more challenging. Much of it made its way into her workroom and bedroom, and what was nice enough to be displayed was put in the dining room. She didn’t entertain often but it was the room she tried to keep presentable for when people did come calling.

The room looked bigger emptied out, if still a bit disorganized, with his bed basically a pile of blankets and pillows and his things stacked along the walls while they waited for new homes. At least it seemed less like she’d shoved him in the storage closet and more like a proper bedroom. Laying on her back with her legs dangling over the edge of the walkway, feet just under the surface of the water, she sighed, pleased with the day’s work. She was exhausted but satisfied and Imri had given her no trouble. Similarly relaxing on his new bed, feet sticking over the edge from his height, her apprentice looked at her with a small crease between his brows.

“Yoso?” The witch snorted at the nickname and kicked her feet in the water. “Why didn’t you just use magic to prepare the room?”

“My magic doesn’t really work that way. I can make things move with it but it would have gotten pretty expensive. I try not to use it when it’s not necessary. I might be tired now but I would have been a lot more tired and possibly ill if I’d done all this with magic.”

There was a long pause before he replied simply with, “I see.” Like the day before, the late afternoon’s warmth and the quietness of the forest began to lull her to sleep. It was jarring when he said, ”So your magic, it’s not very useful then.” She rolled over onto her stomach to look at him more easily.

“It is and it isn’t. Blood magic can be very useful, especially with proper training. It can be very powerful, and handy if you’re creative enough. But for day to day things, perhaps not so much. It’s not like telekinesis or even basic runes, where you can simply make things happen without much cost, beyond some power. Blood magic has a price.” Propping his head up with his arm, hand under chin, he listened to her with renewed interest.

“It’s good magic to have though. Flexible. I’m glad to have it when there is a need for it. There aren’t very many blood adepts, you know, and the only other one I’ve met used his magic for dark deeds. I’m glad I found better uses for it than… well, large scale murder.” She didn’t like to think about her old master who had trained her in the use of her magic, and was glad he was far away in the Esterlands, making war for the Priest King of the Northern clans.

“What is it that you do with your magic then?” He looked at her with such directness with his uncanny eyes. She caught herself staring and blinked, trying to refocus her mind.

“Whatever the village needs of me,” she said simply, uncomfortable with the idea of explaining herself. She was certain some of her more ruthless methods would not be taken kindly by the young man and her responsibilities to the village were both vague and myriad. At times it was warding a new house and creating truly binding contracts, other times it was trying to keep a mother from hemorrhaging too much blood during childbirth. Sometimes, it was luring someone into the forest to a swift death. There were a lot of things that she did with her magic but essentially it came down to one overarching theme. “I take care of my people.” He waited for further explanation and when none came, rolled onto his back and cradled his head in his hands.

“I hope whatever magic I end up with, it’s something useful,” she heard him say quietly, although he didn’t seem to be talking to her anymore. She didn’t have any comfort or retort to give and only frowned at him a little before she got up and left him with his thoughts.

No familiar, no magic, she had no idea what she was supposed to do with him. If her suspicions were correct, he should have had powerful magic. That he was as old as he was and without any manifestations of otherness was peculiar, and Yongsoon imagined that this was of grave concern to Baba Yaga. Anxiety swelled inside her, but she knew that it was important that she tread carefully and that she gather more information before she jumped to conclusions.

Yori greeted her in her study, rubbing himself against her hip and nuzzling her hands, after staying away from the pair as they’d worked. Too big and lazy to be of much help, she’d shooed him away after he’d tried take a nap on her pile of formal dresses. Resting his head in her lap as she sat down to write at her low desk, he let her work in silence for a little while before he broached the subject of her apprentice.

“He could be trouble for you,” rumbled the great cat as he looked up at her.

“It’s possible. Although he seems a good enough fellow.” Slicing her forearm open with a simple but sharp knife, she let the blood drip into a shallow bowl. With enough to write her letters, she wiped her hand over the cut, the blood clotting and drying almost instantly. Yori licked her hand and arm clean, careful not to reopen the wound.

“You seem to like him. More than I would have expected.” Her lips curled in a small smile as she scratched out a simple note to her friend in the city, asking that he make arrangements for her and a friend to be picked up by a livery service before the winter solstice.

“I do like him. He is calm and thoughtful, a rare quality in people his age. And I like his frankness. He is easy to talk to, no twisting and turning in trying not to offend and no extra niceties needed.” Her next letter to Ciribaal was longer but to the point. She would visit him before winter came and she had questions regarding his former pupil.

“He’s easy to look at, too.” The witch scowled at her companion but did not comment. She would not be goaded by his teasing. Tapping her stylus against the desk, she chewed her lip trying to compose her letter to Karl, a friend of sorts who had extensive knowledge but who was at times difficult for her to deal with. Asking favours of him would likely lead to some regret on her part.

“Be careful that you don’t become too attached, Yongsoon. The last human you became attached to has kept you in this corner of the world for a long time and is about to break your heart. She at least was yours to keep. He belongs to others.”

“He belongs to himself, Yori. And I do not own Annise, we’ve never been handfasted, she had other lovers. We belong to each other in our own way but we’ve never given up ourselves for each other. She has always walked her own path and I mine.”

“That never stopped you from being jealous. And you certainly haven’t had room in your heart for anyone else since you met her.” She waved her hand over the last letter, willing the blood to dry.

“Perhaps in time I will find another person to give my heart to. For now, I’ll be glad for the time I have left with Annise.” He followed her into the kitchen where the fire still burned. Twilight was upon them. She sealed each note with blood and a sigil, ensuring that they would find their intended reader and would be protected against prying eyes. One by one she lit them in the fire, carrying them out the front door. They burned away, smoke and ash carried away by the wind. All she could do now was wait.