Chapter One
Lucy
Lucy Bevo jingled down the street, tiny bells and ribbons swaying from her horns with each clop-clop of her cloven hooves. Her skirts swished around her, brighter than the flower boxes she passed.
Her horns spread wider than most doorways, and as she passed orcs, humans, and draki on the street, she instinctively turned her head or stretched herself taller to keep well out of their way.
Lucy counted herself lucky that she was head and shoulders taller than most people, but still, she couldn't be too careful. Accidents could, and did, happen.
She paused at the street corner, waiting for carriages and wagons to pass. Beside her waited a halfling mother and child with matching curly hair in braids. Lucy smiled a polite, "Good morning."
The child murmured with wide eyes, "Mama, that lady's a giant fairy." Lucy bit her lips to keep from snorting.
The mother hushed the child. "She's a minotaur, baby." The mother looked up apologetically and mouthed, "Sorry."
The few other minotaurs in Port Florien gravitated to work that favored strength or intimidation: builders, dock workers, bouncers. A minotaur in bright, soft clothes, with massive horns was an uncommon sight.
Lucy brushed her ginger curls from her eyes and slowly sank to her knees. From the pocket of her waxed canvas apron she pulled a little paper-wrapped candy, offering with a smile. "My name's Lucy. Would you like a soft caramel?"
The child grinned with all their teeth, nodding too many times and holding out cupped hands.
Lucy glanced at the mother, who nodded, before placing the caramel in the tiny hands before her.
Wide hazel eyes drifted over her mismatched silver and gold bells.
"Can I ring them?" The child reached with a single finger.
Lucy chuckled and inclined her head, enough to bring the bells in reach, but not her actual horns. The child tapped one bell, then smacked it so it almost went all the way around her horn, their giggling carrying over the street corner.
The wagons finished passing and the mother steered her child by the shoulder. "That's enough, baby, it's our turn to walk now."
Before moving, Lucy checked her peripheral to ensure she was clear. She rose smoothly and made her way to a leather worker, who gave her scraps she would use in her shop. She had a long day ahead of her, but most days at her shop were.
Turn The Page was the newest bookshop in Port Florien.
Technically, it was barely still in Port Florien.
A few years ago, this neighborhood—affectionately nicknamed Potato Town—wasn't even officially part of the city.
It used to be potato farms, and there were still a few on the outskirts.
Potato Town's locals, almost all haflings, were close knit.
Lucy's arrival hadn't been unwelcome exactly, but she stuck out…
like a minotaur with a bunch of halflings.
More than twice their height, she drew curious stares on the street or at the market.
Lucy arrived at her shop just as her neighbor's daughter walked over from the bakery next door, carrying a package of bread, cheese, and hard-boiled eggs.
"Good morning, Rachelle," Lucy smiled at the teen halfling who didn't even come up to her waist. Over the last few weeks since Lucy was getting her shop ready to open, she had come into a nice rhythm with her baker neighbor.
They'd send over a good breakfast most days, and Lucy let their daughter, a voracious reader, bring home a new book or two every week.
"Morning, Lucy." Rachelle always stood up on her toes to talk to her, as if Lucy couldn't hear her otherwise.
The front door to Turn the Page was rigged with two doorknobs at different heights, connected to the same mechanism to open and lock it.
Lucy went about her opening routine—opening all the shades to let in the daylight, straightening anything she'd missed the previous night, and fluffing the throw pillows and cushions on the homey seating she'd arranged in a cozy reading area.
Almost all of her furniture was here, except for her bed.
And it would stay here until she could afford something just as plush and comfortable for her customers, then she could haul her personal things home.
Meanwhile, Rachelle was perusing Lucy's shelves.
Lucy had built each unit herself, and she had linseed oil stains on her apron to prove it.
They were her pride and joy. Some were like great columns that came about waist height, and they could spin on a ring of ball bearings she'd rigged.
Others were a squat block with banks of shelves between two wheels.
Only one or two shelves were visible at a time, but with a few cranks of the handle on the side, even tiny Rachelle could see and reach every book.
No stool or ladder necessary, not even for gnomes.
Lucy watched as Rachelle cranked the wheel, looking at shelf after shelf. Each piece moved smoothly and the only noise was soft clicking of gear work. Lucy silently pumped her fist as she took a big bite of the bread Rachelle brought.
"Where's the next Burgundy Barricade?" Rachelle called out. "I need to know what those mice are doing!"
Lucy choked down her bite, cursing herself for not making any tea yet to help wash it down. "It's supposed to be on my next shipment! It should be here any day now."
Rachelle unleashed a groan that filled the space. When it subsided, she said, "That's fine. Oh, Zaza said to ask if you have anything on elvish edible flowers." She looked over her shoulder at Lucy as she headed toward the cookbooks.
"You know, I do…" Lucy put down her breakfast and followed. "Is your Za looking for flowers as ingredients or flowers you can eat on their own?"
"Mmm, both?" Rachelle shrugged. "They said something about elvish tea cakes."
"Got it." Lucy turned to one of her column units, raising the whole column a few inches with each pump of the lever.
When she could easily see even the lowest shelf, Lucy gave it a slow spin until she found what she was looking for.
"This one is about generally incorporating flowers into foods…
and this one is all elvish tea cakes." She showed both to Rachelle.
"Perfect," Rachelle grabbed the volume on tea cakes. "There's a tea themed bake-off next month." Lucy didn't know the baker next door very well yet, but she knew they took bake-off events seriously. Rachelle's parent was not to be outdone. "Thanks, Lucy!"
Lucy lowered the column unit as Rachelle headed for the door. At the last minute, Rachelle sighed and turned puppy eyes on Lucy. "Will you tell me when your shipment gets in?"
The minotaur giggled and nodded. "Yes I will. Please tell your Za I said thank you for breakfast."
The hours of the day came and went, and Lucy had maybe one client every hour—which she had to admit was better than last week where she barely got three clients over a whole day.
Turn the Page was still new. It was tucked away from the most walked street in this neighborhood, and word had not spread very far yet.
She spent most of the day with a stack of used books whose previous readers had been hard on them.
Covers with raggedy corners, pages falling out, the occasional dog eared corner, which made Lucy grit her teeth.
She was working on rebinding these old books with fresh thread, strong paste, board, cloth, and some good leather.
Repairing books was almost as satisfying as watching customers use her shelving.
Lucy could take something that anyone else would use as kindling or throw in the trash and turn it into a one of a kind special edition.
She brought the finished repaired books to a corner by the window, near her sitting area.
On a wooden plank she had carved, "Take a book, leave a book. "
Her kitchen table was her makeshift sales counter, and also her work area for repairing books.
She had set it near a wall, and sitting behind it gave her the best vantage point of her shop.
The shelf units being closer to the ground made it easy to see the whole shop, and although her business was still slow yet, Lucy couldn't feel anything but pride at what she had built so far.
Lucy lost herself in rebinding. A few minutes after she meant to lock her door and turn the sign to Closed, the door opened with a chorus of little clang-clangs of miniature cowbells, and it was accompanied with a heavy gruff sigh.
She popped up from her table to find a dwarf with close cropped hair, and a braided beard shot through with more gray than black.
He was dressed well, in a tweed vest with blues and browns.
His features were rounded but firm, like river-worn stones.
He was so startlingly handsome, Lucy almost forgot he was a customer, and she had work to do.
"Hi there," she beamed, "welcome to Turn the Page. What can I help you find?"
"Uh, gift for a friend," he grumbled. He started looking around her layout and shelving and his brow pinched.
"What does your friend like?" Lucy joined him.
The dwarf headed for the history section, adjusting his vest and hooking one thumb into his belt. "He's um, a playwright."
Lucy followed, maintaining a respectful distance. This dwarf came up almost to her shoulder. "Plays are fun! What does he usually write about?"
His brows rose when he gave her a sidelong glance as he scanned the shelf. "He likes starting with some historical event. Says it grounds the show in reality, but then he turns it into a bunch of dancing and singing."
"Musicals?" Lucy lit up. "Oh, let's see…" She read history less than other topics, but she knew her stock well. "Has he done The Prince and the General?" She pulled a volume about the ancient love story of elf legends.
"That was his first one, actually." The dwarf raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.
Lucy returned it with a soft, "Of course," and they went back and forth with a few historical topics.
This dwarf's playwright friend was thorough.
The dwarf girls who had survived a battle by hiding in their own traveling trunks?
Done last year. The wizard who created a new animal as a pet that reproduced quickly and caused mayhem all over the countryside?
Done three years ago, with rave reviews.
"The king who killed all his children?" Lucy tried, wincing.
"Pfft, which one?" the dwarf almost laughed. Apparently this had happened several times in dwarf history.
"Oh!" Lucy went to her Take-a-Book-Leave-a-Book area, tapping each spine until she found what she was looking for.
Her skirt swirled with her as she spun. "What about this?
" She held up a book she had rebound in black leather.
"It's about the Port Florien Ripper. Almost a dozen innocent people slashed to ribbons, and they never caught the killer. "
The dwarf's face folded in on itself with how forcefully he frowned. "That's a terrible thing to make a musical about." Lucy's face fell, but before she could fumble an apology, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He'll love it."
Lucy's hand flew to her heart with relief. "Wonderful!" She covered up her nerves with a smile. "And anything for you, sir? What's your name, by the way?"
He looked away and gave her a furtive glance back. "I'm Dainley." He cleared his throat, "Dainley Deep, miss." He offered his hand and they shook. His palm was warm, dry, and he smelled of leather. "I, uh, own the cobbler shop a couple blocks over."
Lucy's eyes lit up. "Oh, you bake?"
Dainley gave her a flat look. "Shoes."
It took Lucy an uncomfortable second too long to understand what he meant.
Shoe repair. She dropped his hand. Her cheeks heated and she flapped her ears a few times, trying to laugh it off.
"Of course! Shoes! Sorry, I—"she laughed again, "I've never worn shoes.
" Oh good, say the dumbest thing possible to the hot dwarf who is also your customer. She wanted to kick herself in the head.
Dainley Deep the cobbler looked down at her hooves. He tilted his head and shrugged, conceding, "Well yeah, why would you?"
"I mean, I do get them polished!" She babbled only a moment until their eyes met.
He was handsome, with solid features and eyes as gray as his beard.
Heat flared brighter in her cheeks. Lucy had always thought it was funny, the way people with no hair on their face turned reddish or pinkish when they blushed.
She was glad the fine hair covering her face wouldn't give away her blushing.
Fiddling with the pocket edges on her apron, Lucy said, "Well, Mr. Dainley, what else can I help you find? What do you like to read?"
"Oh, uh, just this." He held up the Port Florien Ripper book, and examined the leather cover.
His fingers were thick, almost square at the tips as they traced the embossing she'd done on the cover.
For the briefest second, Lucy imagined those fingers on her.
Dainley reached for his pocket and asked, "What do I owe you, miss? "
Lucy's ears flapped again and she hoped he hadn't caught her staring at his hands. "Oh, that—don't worry about it!" She pointed to the sign for this section. "Everything here people can just take if they want."
Dainley quietly read the sign aloud to himself and nodded, "Oh." He stood still for one more awkward moment before he started edging for the door. "Well, thank you, miss. Good night."
Lucy followed, though whether it was to lock the door or try to keep Dainley in her shop one more moment, she'd never know. "Thank you for visiting. I hope to see you again, Mr. Dainley." The little smile he gave her as he trudged into the night melted her heart in an unfamiliar way.
Closing up for the night, Lucy walked through her shop still very full of books, and grabbed her ledger. There wouldn't be much to add to it tonight. She sighed, dropping her gaze all the way to her hooves, and couldn't help laughing at herself. "Shoes."