Chapter Eleven #4
The shopkeeper perused the list. “Mm, yes … yes … not this time of year, but … ah … I can fulfill most of it and offer substitutions on the rest. Would that suffice?”
“Depending on the price, yes.”
They haggled briefly on the price until both were satisfied, and then the shopkeeper began slicing and wrapping different parcels of cheese.
Marin wandered around the shop. It smelled like cheese, of course, but also of spices and nuts.
She studied one tray of wrapped cheeses labeled “Chimera cheese—smoky flavor with hints of pepper, crystallized texture, aged six months.” She didn’t know a chimera produced milk.
She supposed it had goat parts, so … yeah, she still couldn’t picture it.
Dax asked, “What does unicorn cheese taste like?”
“Would you two like a sample?” the shopkeeper offered.
“This one is our famous Aged Averian, made from pure unicorn milk and aged for two years.” She bustled over to a case of cheeses and sliced off two little chunks from an iridescent wheel.
When the sunlight hit the cheese, it looked like an opal, filled with a rainbow of moving colors.
Marin took the piece and popped it in her mouth.
“Ooh, what’s it like?” Ree asked.
It tasted like eating sunshine. She closed her eyes and imagined she was on her sailboat, no land in sight, a perfect breeze, a cloudless sky, water all around. That was what it tasted like. She opened her eyes again and looked at Dax.
“It’s musical,” he said, wonder in his voice. “It tastes like the sound of the purest flute.”
“That … doesn’t make much sense,” Ree said.
Marin told him, “It tastes like the sea on a perfect day.”
“Ahhh…”
“Brilliant, isn’t it?” the shopkeeper said.
“To me, it tastes like an afternoon nap, after you’ve had a bit of cake.
” She finished packaging up the purchase and handed it all in a box to Marin.
“Mind you don’t leave it out in the sun.
The paper’s got a bit of enchantment on it to keep it from spoiling, but you don’t want to push it. ”
“Thank you,” Marin said, taking the package and paying the requisite coins. “All right. Shall we sail?”
“Unicorn hooves?” Dax said plaintively. “Like bells?”
The shopkeeper chuckled. “Come out back, if you can spare the time.”
He looked at Marin like a hopeful puppy. She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Ten minutes, then we sail.”
They headed out the back door into the field where the half-dozen unicorn mares were grazing. The shopkeeper reached into her apron pocket and pulled out rose petals. She whistled and tossed the petals onto the stone walkway that cut through the grass to a well beside a two-story barn.
The unicorns came trotting toward her, silent across the grass, and then when they reached the walkway, their hooves chimed like bells made of crystal.
The varying tones washed over them and then vanished into the breeze as the unicorns nibbled the petals and then retreated out into the field.
Marin found herself longing to hear the sound again—it lingered in her memory, the pureness of the chimes.
“Beautiful,” Dax murmured. He then kissed the shopkeeper on her wrinkled cheek. Marin couldn’t help thinking of how close he’d been in that one bed, close without once touching. “Thank you, ma’am. That was a profound aural experience.”
The shopkeeper laughed. “It’s a good thing my granddaughter isn’t here today—she doesn’t need the distraction.” She swatted him lightly, still laughing. “You are too charming for your own good.”
I agree with that. After thanking the shopkeeper for both the cheese and her time, Marin steered Dax toward the exit. He kept looking back at the unicorns. As they headed for the harbor, the orange cat flew behind them, and Ree hopped beside them.
As they reached the harbor, Dax said to Marin, “Thank you. I never would have heard that wonder if you hadn’t allowed me to come with you on your sailboat.”
Marin squirmed at the word “allowed.” She didn’t like how that word felt, though she supposed it was accurate—she was her boat’s captain. Still, she didn’t like the uneven power dynamic it implied. Not between her and Dax. “I wouldn’t have heard it either if you hadn’t been with me to ask.”
Chiming in, Ree said, “You should write a song about unicorn cheese.” He warbled: “Unicorn cheese, as nice as you please! Unicorn cheese … It needs another rhyme.” He considered options the rest of the way to the dock. “Cheese, freeze, sneeze, keys…”
“Honey bees?” Dax suggested.
“Sentient trees,” Ree offered.
While the two of them continued to swap rhymes, Marin boarded Silver.
She stacked the package of cheese belowdecks in her icebox and then returned to untie the lines from the dock.
Under her direction, Dax and Ree raised the mainsheet and readied the jib.
Perri greeted them happily as they sailed out of the harbor.
From the mast, Ree cried, “Onward, Captain!”
Smiling, Marin aimed the boat toward their next destination, and the sails filled with wind as Dax and Ree sang lustily about the glories of cheese and sentient trees.