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.”