“Ammo is no use without a gun.” He grimaced. “Okay, poor analogy, but you get me.”
“I do.” I smiled to show him it was okay. “You go ahead. I’ll hang back and finish up here.”
“Not happening,” he said cheerfully. “Miracle moth or no miracle moth, we’re not separating again.”
Given there was at least one more witch on the prowl, I couldn’t argue with his caution.
“Asa.” I traced the curve of his cheek with my free hand. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
His fingers tightened on mine, holding me to him, and I almost caved to his silent request for me to stay.
“I’m here now.” Clay knelt beside Asa. “I won’t let Rue out of my sight.” He patted Asa’s leg. “Promise.”
The vow carried enough weight that Asa let me go, but I didn’t venture far. Just to the zombigo’s corpse.
“Are we not going to talk about the moth in the room?” Clay shot her a mock glare. “You jailbroke.”
Leaving her to explain herself, I snapped several photos for our report before I touched my wand to its leg and pushed enough of my own magic into the body to render it to fine ash I kicked across the earth.
After rejoining Clay and Colby, I gritted my teeth against the urge to help when he lifted Asa in his arms. I had the oddest thought it had something to do with his hair, with some jealous urge to scoop it up and hold it away from Clay so it no longer touched his skin. Clearly, I was losing my mind, but I did wonder.
Curling my itchy fingers into my palms, I asked, “Will you get in trouble for touching his hair?”
“Nah.” Clay ruffled Asa’s hair to prove his point. “I have no sexual organs, and I can’t reproduce.”
According to him, the absence of genitalia did not equate a deficit of imagination, skill, or pleasure.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I frowned at him. “And what about Colby?”
“Colby is a child, and an extension of you, so she’s fine.” His lips pulled to one side. “The rest? Talk to him about it.”
That promised to be awkward, so I elected to pretend I hadn’t mentioned the hair, he hadn’t mentioned the lack of sexual organs, and decided we could never mention any of this again, and I would be happy.
On the trek to the cabin, I watched Clay’s back. Colby rode on my head, her legs twitching in my hair.
Pitching her voice low, she leaned over my forehead, curiosity a spark in her eyes. “No sexual organs?”
Trawling my memories, I came up with a decent comparison. “Did you have any Barbie dolls?”
“No,” she said slowly, “but I’ve seen the memes.”
Afraid to ask what memes, I plowed ahead, hoping that meant she grasped basic doll anatomy.
“Okay, well, golems are like Ken dolls. They’re sculpted from clay into a male form, but without the male parts.” Vague was the way to go on that front. Not that I meant front like that. And now I had a mental picture of Ken’s crotch stuck in my head. “Clay identifies as male, but he’s got a friend who identifies as female, and then there’s Misha. They work in grounds security at the Black Hat compound, and they identify as neither.”
There. Nice and simple. Easy to digest.
A version of the same talk Clay had given me when I finally worked up the nerve to ask him early in our partnership.
“So, Misha is nonbinary?”
And…she left my weak sauce explanation in the dust.
Kids these days.
They had the internet at their fingertips and held the world in the palms of their hands.
“Exactly.” I glanced up at her. “How did you get so smart?”