Bookshops & Bonedust (Legends & Lattes, #0)(69)

“Mmm. Just going to take care of it yourself, then?” Viv’s voice was mild. “How many spinebacks did you say?”

“A manageable number,” said Gallina flatly.

Satchel cleared his throat. “If you do decide to deal with those creatures, I may be of some assistance.”

“No offense,” said Gallina, “but I think spinebacks kinda like to crack bones between their teeth?”

“Nevertheless,” he said, and the flames in his eyes flashed like a knot popping in a hearth fire.

“You know, Satchel, the longer I know you, the less I think I know about you,” said Viv. She wondered again what services Varine might have required of him.

As Gallina was getting up to leave, Fern called out, “Oh, that book you wanted should be in here somewhere.”

Gallina looked stricken.

“Uh. Yeah. I’ll get that later, then,” the gnome said in a strangled voice, and hurried out the door.

“Wait, she really did read something? What did she ask for?”

Fern finished shelving the volume in her paws and turned back to Viv, her eyes sharp with humor.

She mouthed one word.

“Moist.”



* * *



When they’d finished shelving everything, Viv carted the empty crates out back to keep for later. When she returned, she found Fern arranging the last of the books she’d set aside on the front table.

With the knuckles of one paw to her chin, she contemplated the entire setup and then reached out and swapped two of them.

“Huh. Looks nice,” said Viv. It did. The covers showed well with their fronts out, and Fern had arranged them at artful angles or face up and sometimes rakishly tilted.

There was something modern and immediate about many of the designs. Bold, serifed text in gold or silver, iconography that suggested a dream condensed. Some were covered in marbled cloth with blooms of color like exotic foliage.

Fern studied them with a wistful smile on her lips. “It’s funny. I hate to sell them. Did I ever tell you that? If I could keep them all, I would.”

“Solid business plan.”

The rattkin slapped her on the arm.

“Desert Heat,” said Viv, grinning. “Greatstrider, huh?” She tapped a volume with a very detailed illustration of an orc and a human on the verge of shedding the rest of their clothing and doing something very acrobatic. A thought occurred to her, and her eyes widened. “Wait, this isn’t Gallina’s, is it?”

“A good bookseller doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“So that’s absolutely a yes. Anyway, when do you want to reopen?”

“Anxious to go spineback hunting?”

Viv shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s not what I meant …”

“I know. I’m fucking with you. Actually, I had an idea, and I wanted to see what you thought about it.” Fern sat in one of the padded chairs and motioned for Viv to join her.

As she sank into the seat, she shot the rattkin a perplexed look. “Not sure why you’d need my opinion.”

“Well, it’s about Maylee. Do you think … do you think she might want to sell some of her scones or biscuits here?”

For a moment, Viv’s thoughts were knocked sideways as she felt the phantom of Maylee’s kiss at the corner of her mouth and an echo of last night’s conversation. Her face warmed. Then she shook it off. “Easy enough to ask.” She tried a wry grin. “Just cleaned the place, and now you want crumbs all over, huh?”

“That’s why I have Potroast. But I think there’s something about curling up with a book and something good to eat. And we have the chairs, and, well … I like having somebody in here. Having you in here day in and day out … I like the company.”

“And pretty soon, I’m not going to be here,” said Viv quietly.

Fern shrugged. “Yeah. We’ve gone to all this trouble, so why not make it a place people want to stay, however we can? However I can?”

That shift from “we” to “I” stung more than Viv expected it to. But that was a good thing, wasn’t it? When she was gone, she wanted Fern happy and successful, didn’t she? That’s what a friend would want.

She laced her fingers together between her knees and wondered what it said about her that the thought made her bridle. “I think it’s a great idea.” And then, crushing that feeling down as hard as she could, she cleared her throat and forged on. “And speaking of Maylee, her idea didn’t seem half bad either.”

“About trying to get Greatstrider down here? If she showed up on my doorstep, I wouldn’t complain, I’ll admit. But can you see me bobbing on hers, begging her to parade around my shabby little shop like … like some kind of visiting dignitary?” Fern snorted. “I’m not that brave.”

“First, the shop isn’t shabby.” Viv leveled a finger at her. “We painted the shit out of this place. And second, you happen to be sitting across from somebody who makes a habit of charging into things like a damned fool.”

“You’re going to convince her to visit?”

“What if I do?”

Fern considered that. “Well, after I finished kissing you on the mouth, I suppose I’d do my gods-damned best to arrange the finest reopening I could muster.”