Bookshops & Bonedust (Legends & Lattes, #0)(48)
Fern made an exasperated noise. “Well, we’re fucked anyway at that point, right? What difference does it make? And as long as we keep the bag out of view, nobody else is going to make any connections. All they can do is ask questions we don’t have to answer.”
Viv looked at Satchel, as though for assistance.
He shrugged.
She couldn’t stop a burst of laughter from escaping and tossed up both hands in surrender. “Eight hells. Okay! You win. I guess that means I don’t have to put Maylee off meeting him.”
Viv made her way to one of the chairs and gently lowered herself into it. Highlark might not have aggressively probed her wound with Maylee around, but it was still tender after the hike into Murk and back, on top of the previous day’s activities.
“We have a lot to talk about, though, don’t we? I mean … ?” She gestured at the sweeping homunculus. “Why don’t you sit down, Satchel?”
“If it’s all the same to you, m’lady, I have a great deal to do. This place is …” He examined the shelves, and somehow managed to look like he was trying to be diplomatic. “Desperately in need of my further attention.”
Viv raised her brows at Fern. “Well, he seems to be settling right in.”
The door banged open and Gallina trotted inside. “Holy hells, he’s out!” she said, in an echo of Viv’s entrance. “And he’s sweepin’?”
“We’ve already had this conversation,” replied Fern, with narrowed eyes. “The housekeeping wasn’t my idea.”
“Now that we’re all here, we have to decide what to do with him though, right?” asked Viv. At Fern’s expression, she amended, “Or … we have to find out what he wants to do. Assuming a necromancer doesn’t swoop into town and murder everybody before then.”
She caught Satchel’s gaze, hoping he’d have a response, but he only looked uncomfortable as he fingered the spines of the books.
“What do you want, Satchel? If you could choose?” asked Fern.
The homunculus glanced between them, and the fires of his eyes twirled faster. “It does not matter. I can never be alone. I must always serve a master. There is no other way.”
“You don’t have to serve nobody. We could just, like …” Gallina rubbed two fingers together. “Dust you and let you get on with it. Right?”
Satchel was silent for so long, his broom immobile, that Viv thought he might have seized up, his enchantment somehow halted. But then he slowly replied, “I should like to simply be for a while. To … serve in the way I choose.”
Fern’s voice was firm. “Of course. But you don’t have to serve anybody but yourself. Do you understand?”
He nodded, but Viv wasn’t sure that he believed it. Or maybe he just disagreed. At any rate, it wasn’t going to do any good to belabor the point.
“Hey, somethin’ else you said yesterday,” said Gallina. “That guy, Balthus. You said you weren’t all he stole.”
Viv had forgotten about that, and from her expression, Fern had, too.
Satchel bobbed his head but said nothing.
“Well?” prompted Gallina. “What else did he take?”
The homunculus hung his head. “Alas, the Lady’s secrets bind me. I cannot say.” Then, in an abrupt change of subject, he addressed Fern. “I do so look forward to tidying here. Sorting. Organizing. It gives me great peace. I wonder, what do you discover when you bring order to things?”
Something about his tone bothered Viv, something plaintive, but he already sounded so eerie that maybe it wasn’t worth marking. Still, Satchel was regarding one of the bookshelves with strange intensity.
Viv opened her mouth to ask, and—
“Guess that’s that then, huh?” said Gallina, clapping her hands to the armrests. “And if Varine does show her face, well …” She fingered the knives on her bandolier. “Maybe it won’t be so boring around here.”
“Let’s not tempt the Eight, shall we?” said Fern.
Viv didn’t miss the way Satchel stilled at that exchange. His jawbone opened as though he meant to speak, but then it slowly closed, and he turned away.
She watched him thoughtfully, then tilted her staff toward the gnome. “On that note, I’m heading up the bluff to get in a little workout. Are you game?”
Gallina was.
24
Viv’s feelings of high alert ebbed slowly over the following days. No invading army of wights appeared on the horizon, and no gray-clad strangers menaced them. In fact, nothing happened to warrant so much as a suspicious glance, much less a bared blade.
In her experience though, things tended to get quiet right before they got loud.
They discovered that Satchel became even more nervous when customers entered the store. Any time the door opened, he collapsed instantly and rolled his component bones underneath one of the shelves, only emerging when Fern reassured him that the intruders were gone.
Potroast also liked to gnaw at his ankles and could not be deterred.
As a result, Satchel mostly kept to his satchel during the day.
Maylee showed up one late afternoon, put her fists on her hips, and demanded, “Well, where is he?”
When Fern sprinkled dust over the bones and Satchel made his rattling appearance, she took it in stride. Viv supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, given her history. When the dwarf extended a hand for the homunculus to shake, Viv couldn’t help but think of her long-ago encounter with the goblin across the river.