Chapter 9
“So, for about half the book, I couldn’t stand either of them,” said Viv, her voice slightly raised. “I thought for sure I wouldn’t make it to the end, and I’d owe you twenty bits.”
She dealt Fern’s carpet a terrific blow with her walking staff. A cloud of dust, dander, and down erupted into the air. Gripping her end of the carpet firmly, she flicked it upward, and even more filth drifted out.
Fern coughed and waved a hand, both feet on the other end of the rug where it was draped up and over the boardwalk railing. “But?”
“But then, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it was when they were stuck in Red Rule House with Pruitt and the rest of them.
Everything flipped. It was the two of them back-to-back against a bunch of liars.
They didn’t even talk to each other differently, all sarcasm and nasty jabs.
And sleeping back-to-back too, with the sword between them … ”
She motioned to Fern, and they flipped the threadbare rug before Viv delivered another savage crack. Amazingly, there was more of Potroast to be dislodged. The gryphet in question hooted in his sleep as he dozed in the sun in front of the door.
“The framing changed everything,” finished Fern. “Like one of those trick drawings that become something else when you turn them upside down.”
“I think I saw something like that once on a tavern sign. The Coney & Gull. Looked like a bird straight on, and a rabbit if you tilted your head.”
“Yeah, exactly that. But you did finish?”
“I did.” Viv pulled the rug taut and dusted the surface with one hand, examining her fingers. Not too filthy.
“And?” Fern sounded impatient.
Viv smiled and held her peace a moment longer, making a big show of inspecting the carpet.
She folded it in quarters until she’d gathered it all in, moving slowly with most of her weight on her left foot.
Stacking it up in front of the door, she could feel the rattkin’s impatience burning on her back.
She very carefully withdrew four five-bit pieces from her wallet and offered them to Fern. “I don’t think I’d ever want to care about somebody the way those two did. Seems kind of dangerous.”
Fern didn’t take the coins, crossing her arms instead. “But you did like it? Even with the distinct lack of sword-fighting?”
Viv thought for a moment, idly moving the bits with her thumb.
“Well, there was plenty of fighting, I guess. Just not a lot of bleeding. And I might have more than liked it? I’m having a hard time saying why, though.
” She cleared her throat, embarrassed. At the same time, there was something about Fern’s attentive, almost hungry gaze that made her want to satisfy it.
“It’s like … they were so terrible together in some ways, but … they still defended one another? I’m pretty sure they even loved each other. I mean, if you count chapter thirty-five, they definitely loved each other.” She rolled her eyes. “But past that, in a way that mattered more.”
The rattkin was studying her face with a half-smile. Viv thought she remembered her Pa looking like that when she was first able to heft a steel blade. A little rose of warmth bloomed in her chest to see it one more time with fur and whiskers.
Awkwardly, she finished, “And I guess it makes me think that if I’m willing to call that love, then … a better kind might not be so impossible.” She blushed and looked away. “Love. Gods. C’mon, I feel like an ass here. Take the damn money.”
Fern did so with a knowing look.
While they were at it, they swept out the shop, which required moving the stacks of books nested in the corners.
Viv traded her walking staff for Fern’s bristle-broom.
Potroast seemed to object, nipping at it and growling at her.
He waggled his tiny vestigial wings, but she nudged him gently out of the way with the broom. Well, mostly gently.
Fern unclasped her red cloak and tossed it across the counter. “Damn. With you in here too, it’s like working next to a furnace!”
Viv shrugged. “Orcs burn hot. You always want to sleep in an orc’s tent in winter. That’s just a fact.”
The rattkin snorted and hefted a stack of flaking, leather-bound tomes to cart them out of the way.
The clouds of dust were prodigious, and at one point, they had to stop while Viv flapped Fern’s cloak toward the open doorway to clear the air. Potroast scrabbled across the floorboards in alarm, hiding behind a shelf.
When they were done, Viv dropped the carpet on the threshold, gripped the doorframe, and used her good toes to lift one corner and flip it open. Fern grabbed hold of the end and stretched it out to its full length.
Viv looked past her at the towers of books still unshelved, crowding the back hall and the area beside the counter. The front of the store was so much less claustrophobic with them out of the way.
“Are all of those important?” She gestured with her head.
Fern looked affronted. “Of course they’re important! They’re my books!”
“I mean, do you think anybody is going to buy them if they’re just in piles around the place?”
The rattkin puffed in exasperation as she straightened, dusting herself off. “If a customer tells me what they want, then I’ll find it for them. That’s how a bookshop works. They have to be stored somewhere.”
“Well, if they can go anywhere then … why not in the back? If you know where they are?”
Fern squinted at her.
Viv hurried on. “It’s just, when they’re all out and everywhere, I’m sort of … afraid to touch anything. Or look at anything. Or move.”
There was a long pause while the rattkin nibbled at her lower lip.
“And,” ventured Viv, “you could probably toss all the sea charts back there, too.”
“Those gods-damned sea charts,” Fern said with remarkable savagery.
“So why not hide them? And see how it feels?” She saw the look on the rattkin’s face and held up her hands. “I mean, it’s not my place to say, but … seems like maybe a hole you can patch that doesn’t cost you anything?”
“Fuck!” muttered Fern.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t—”
“No, it’s not that.” The rattkin sighed and didn’t look at Viv.
“It’s that it’s easier to do this when you’re here.
And that makes me feel stupid. Have I been sitting on my tail all this time?
Doing nothing because I was pretending I couldn’t?
Am I so pathetic that I couldn’t muster the energy to do this without … without a chaperone?”
Viv stayed quiet. Sometimes, that was just what you had to do.
“I’m not blaming you,” Fern said. “I’m thankful. I’m just … angry. At myself. And I don’t understand why I didn’t see any of this before. Maybe it means I never wanted it to work out in the first place.”
“Or maybe you just needed to be back-to-back with someone.”
The rattkin blinked at her.
“To reframe it,” continued Viv.
“To look at it sideways,” said Fern.
“So. Let’s find out if it’s a rabbit or a gull, yeah?”
With the “floor books”—as Viv insisted on calling them—tucked away in the back room where Fern handled binding repairs, they stood together in the front and surveyed their handiwork.
“It feels twice as big in here,” said Viv. “And since I’m twice as big as you, I have to say, that feels pretty good.”
“I’ll admit, it’s a lot … airier.”
Potroast promptly curled up on the carpet in the pool of sun streaming through the open door. He fluffed the feathers of his ruff and closed his enormous eyes in obvious contentment.
It was a far cry from the oiled and gleaming ranks of volumes in Highlark’s office library, but it was a little less shabby.
Not exactly organized. Not precisely inviting.
Overstuffed shelves still ringed the room, and the central pair still threatened an avalanche, but it was remarkable what some open floorspace achieved.
Even the peeling paint and cracked lamp chimney seemed less desolate.
“Doesn’t smell so yellow anymore, either,” Viv said to herself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
The creak of the boardwalk outside preceded the arrival of a bandy-legged gnome in salt-crusted clothes. His hands had the hard, callused look of a man who spent his days on the deck of a ship.
Fern sighed, then mustered a smile. “Afternoon, sir! Looking for a sea chart?”
Two long creases below his cheeks deepened with his surprise. “Naw. Ain’t been sleepin’ lately. Just figgered I’d get somethin’ to occupy the hours. Whaddaya got for that?”
“How do you feel about swordfights and jailbreaks?” asked Viv, before Fern could say another word.
The gnome gave her a considering once-over. “You got a suggestion?”
“Yeah, I do,” said Viv.
The leathery little man ambled out a few minutes later with a copy of Ten Links in the Chain folded under his arm.
When he had gone, Fern turned to Viv and stroked her whiskers.
“So, do I get a commission, then?” Viv leaned on her staff with a challenging cock of the head.
“I have another proposal for you,” began Fern, timid for once.
“Another wager?”
“Not exactly.” She hesitated further.
“Well, I’m not going to bite. Go on. I want to hear.”
“What would you say to spending more time here? During the day?” Then, haltingly, she added, “And in exchange … I’ll … keep you in books.”
Viv considered that.
Fern rushed on. “It’d be like your library. You could read whatever you like and bring it back when you’re done. As many as you want at a time! Books can be expensive, of course, and this way you could—”
“Would you suggest them for me? The books?”
It was Fern’s turn to consider. “I … Yes, of course. I’d be happy to.”
Viv tapped the door with her walking staff and then winced, checking to make sure she hadn’t dented the wood. Potroast glared at her sleepily. “Yeah. Consider it done, then.”
The rattkin looked relieved, but also a mite guilty.
Something inside Viv twisted at that expression. There was a kind of need buried in it. And maybe she saw a possible distraction while the Ravens marched off with the life she should have been living. Something to fight against, at least. “I’ve got a counter-proposal, though.”
“Oh, really?”
“I don’t want to just sit here reading your books. What if you tried to do more than bail water? And what if I helped make that happen?”
“So you want to do battle with the bookselling business?” Fern’s mouth quirked in a smile that was almost, but not quite, skeptical. “I guess you could maybe intimidate somebody into buying a book.”
“I think you’re underestimating how charming an orc can be when they’re not pissed off. Besides, total ignorance never stopped me from trying anything before. I’ve got one other condition though.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ve got to figure out someplace to sit in here. There’s no way in all eight hells I’m standing all day.”