“Wish there was anything here for tinder,” she said. She tried to make room for the smaller woman to sit and drew a sodden cloak from her pack to spread across the rock for comfort. It was a wonder she’d held on to the pack during the frantic swim. A wonder they both hadn’t been battered to death on the rocks.
“We’ll make do,” murmured Leena. She managed a wan smile. Even bedraggled and clinging to her cheeks, her hair was radiant. Her smile too. She scooted onto the cloak, and after a bare moment, leaned into Raleigh.
For a while, Raleigh sat still, inhaling the scent of her hair and salt and wet cotton. She might not have been able to conjure a fire, but a warmth grew between them, and as the frantic energy of their flight abated, it was replaced with something else.
“Raleigh,” whispered Leena, and moved against her, just barely.
But in recent days, Raleigh had found new meaning in the simplest of gestures, a complex underpinning that terrified and thrilled her.
“Yes?” she said, and the sounds of Leena’s motions were loud in the sea cave as she turned slowly. A single hand rose, tentative.
Leena’s fingers found her collarbone, and slipped beneath the wet fabric to trace its length, intimate in a way that Raleigh could hardly bear to endure.
The fingers stopped, just so, and then … Raleigh’s mouth was on hers. At first, she closed her eyes, but when she opened them, she found Leena looking back with a gaze made of hunger and need.
Their hands moved down, and their bodies nearer, heedless of the rocks beneath the cloak, every sense attuned to what they could touch and taste. Farther down, and—
Viv abruptly looked up and found Fern watching from her perch at the counter.
Dawdling around the shop all day would’ve been easy if it weren’t for this specific reading selection. Not that Viv wasn’t enjoying the book, because she was. Unfortunately, certain passages, pages, and whole chapters made her flush all over. Moreover, she caught Fern eyeing her progress, and the rattkin seemed to know exactly when those moments might occur. It made her uncomfortable, like someone was watching her bathe.
“I think I’m going to read this in my room,” Viv declared, marking her page number and setting Sea of Passion on the side table.
“Hm. Need some private time?” Fern smirked, which Viv didn’t think she’d ever seen her do before.
“No. But you’re watching me like you expect me to steal something.”
The rattkin shrugged. “Just … gauging your interest.”
Viv hoisted herself to her feet with the help of her staff. “In the … the moist bits?”
Fern burst into laughter, startling Potroast out of his nap.
“What are you up to? This really doesn’t feel like I’m helping at all.” Viv hobbled toward her.
The rattkin was going through a massive printer’s catalog and making marks in her inventory book. “Well, just having you here is keeping me—”
At that moment, a tall sea-fey woman opened the door and stepped cautiously inside.
Viv preempted Fern. “Sea charts?” she asked with a broad smile.
The customer looked startled and furrowed her brow in confusion.
“What can I do for you?” asked Fern, shooing Viv to the side.
* * *
When the woman departed with three books in hand—a long journey ahead of her, apparently—Viv stood watching out the door, drumming the frame with her fingers.
“What?” asked Fern. “It looks like you’re about to suggest furniture again.”
“Just want to sort out how to help more. I feel … itchy. At least, when I’m not reading.” Viv interrupted Fern before she could say anything. “And yeah, I meant it. That chapter is a ‘my room’ chapter.”
“You know, there have been more customers in the last two days than in the previous week—not counting you,” said Fern.
“Really? Still seems pretty quiet.”
The rattkin wrinkled her nose. “Yes, well, welcome to the life of a bookseller in gods-damned Murk. Maybe they see you in the window and figure the place isn’t about to close? Or collapse?”
Viv ran a finger down the remnants of red on the front door. “Could be a little paint would give them the right idea.”
“It just wears so fast in the salt air. Seems like throwing money away to repaint it, when there’s so much else around here that needs the silver.”
“Like what?”
“Like new books.” Fern tapped the catalog. “Most of my inventory is old. Nothing wrong with classics, but …” She shrugged. “The stuff coming out of Azimuth these days is just fresher. Kind of daring. Also, there are a lot of series coming out, and if you buy one, then you need the next one. I could definitely do with more repeat customers.”
She closed the catalog with a snap. “Gods-damned expensive, though. And then there’s the space problem.”
Viv studied the packed shelves. “Too bad you couldn’t make more room …”
“Hm?”
“Just thinking. Don’t mind me. Look, I need to limber up. Leg’s getting stiff, and I haven’t been staying fighting fit the way I need to. Going to head back for a while and see if I can do something without falling on my ass this time. Okay with you?”
Fern flapped a hand at her.
“Back in a bit.” Viv waved and headed back to The Perch.
* * *
Strapping her saber to her waist was like pulling on a pair of comfortably broken-in boots. How many days had it been since she’d worn it? Viv had lost count.
Instead of venturing down to the dunes and potentially running afoul of Iridia, Viv headed around back of The Perch. No tomcat awaited scraps. Fortunately, Gallina didn’t seem to be in evidence either.
The area behind the inn was mostly flat, with crates and barrels stacked against the wall, and a small burning pit. Sand and rock rumpled into a hillside behind it, tufted with sea grass. Thankfully, it was all mostly sheltered from sight.
Viv leaned her stick against the crates and gingerly stepped into the center of the flattened area. It was a damn sight better than the dunes for form work, and the fact that she hadn’t bothered to look here the first time vexed her.
Drawing her saber, she eased carefully into a guard stance. She even let a little extra weight settle onto her right leg, and while it burned—fiercely—it didn’t feel like the pain that preceded a tear or a collapse.
She deliberately and slowly cycled through high and low forms and then extensions. Her entire upper body felt stiff at first, but fluidity returned more swiftly than she expected. The ache in her leg continued to build, however, and she only lasted about fifteen minutes before she had to call a halt.
Sweat slicked her back and under her arms, and a thudding pain in her temples told her she was right to have stopped.
Wiping her forehead with one arm, she sheathed her saber and headed back inside to see if she could wrangle a basin of water from Brand.
* * *
With her hair washed and wrung out in wet curls down her back, and the rest of her bathed with a basin and a rag, Viv made her way back to Thistleburr. The afternoon sun was hot and angry as it plunged toward the sea, eager to be extinguished.
After the prior exertion, she favored her leg heavily, making more use of the walking staff than normal.