“Well. Nothing in all eight hells that can be done about it anyhow. They’ll pay us, or they won’t.”
But, knowing Rackam, Viv thought they would. He was a persuasive man.
The conversation shifted on to another sort of business altogether.
“So, who’s this now?” he asked, gesturing toward the gnome seated beside Viv.
Viv waited a moment for Gallina to introduce herself, but when the knife-studded gnome only sat with mouth slightly parted and eyes wide, she took pity and intervened.
Smiling, she slapped Gallina on the back. “This is the girl that saved my ass in a street fight.”
* * *
Viv didn’t have much to pack, but she supposed Brand would appreciate having the mattress heaved back onto its frame. Just as she let it fall with a thud and a protesting creak, a knock rang out at her door.
It was Maylee.
Without asking, she entered and closed the door behind her, and simply stood with her hands at her sides.
The walls of the room seemed to float away in the silence, and Viv couldn’t stand to let it extend any further. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Hush,” said the dwarf. “I know you wouldn’t leave without sayin’ anythin’。”
Viv wanted to believe that was true about herself.
“I just couldn’t do this out there, in the world.” She gestured vaguely behind her and met Viv’s gaze for the first time since she’d entered. Her eyes glimmered at the corners. She sniffed and then roughly ran her forearm under her nose. “You’re too gods-damned tall,” she complained in a thick voice.
Viv sank down onto her knees, so they were nearly face to face.
“That’s better,” Maylee whispered, and put a hand to Viv’s cheek. Viv could smell yeast and sugar and warm skin. “I know what I told you at the beginnin’。 About knowin’ you for a while. And I even believed it. Guess I still do. But here’s the part where I pay for it. And maybe you too, but I won’t ask about what it costs you. I’m not sure I want to know.”
The lump in Viv’s throat was too big to fit words around. Instead, she mirrored Maylee’s gesture and laid her huge hand along the side of the dwarf’s cheek.
“I’ll probably never see you again,” continued Maylee, and one tear overspilled, tracking through the fine flour on her cheek. She leaned into Viv’s touch and added fiercely, almost angrily, “But I don’t regret it.”
She pushed forward, and her lips pressed against Viv’s, warm and lush and longing. And all too brief.
Then she pulled away and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Viv never managed to say a word, but their time was over.
One had gone up, and the other down, and the crossing would not be repeated.
* * *
When Viv walked into Thistleburr for the last time, Satchel was shelving some repaired volumes while Fern curled up in one of the surviving padded chairs, perusing a catalog. Potroast looked over from taking experimental nips at Satchel’s anklebones to hoot at her.
Fern put the catalog aside and started to rise, then saw the pack on Viv’s back. Her expression made a few detours on the way to a smile. “So, you’re going, then?”
“Soon,” said Viv. After Maylee, she’d figured this would be easier, and it was, but not by as much as she’d hoped. “I wanted to give this back to you before I did, though.” She held out Fern’s copy of Crossed Purposes.
Fern snorted. “I knew there was a reason I lent you that. Kept you from slipping off on the sly.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” protested Viv.
“Hm. I know you warrior types,” she replied, with a pained smile. “Tear the damned place up and leave. Just look at this mess!” She waved dramatically at the shop, which still clearly bore the marks of Varine’s trespass. “Anyway, that book is yours to keep. What did you think of it?” She asked it offhandedly, but Viv didn’t think it was an offhanded question.
She studied the cover and understood that to give a thoughtless answer was to break something she didn’t want broken. “Well,” she said slowly. “At first, I decided it was maybe a little on the nose. Sad. Pembroke is so sure he’s done. They’ll never see each other again, and maybe that’s just because they’re both too stubborn to see things another way. That’s how the author leaves it. Still. The more I think about it … it seems like it ought to be obvious, but people in books are wrong all the time. Hells, the authors are wrong. So maybe that’s what the story says in the words that got put down, but if you could read past the end? The words that didn’t get written? Maybe it ends up being something else altogether.”
“The story past the story,” murmured Fern.
Viv shot her a startled glance. “Yeah.”
Fern nodded. “You’ve been a good friend to me, Viv. And I’m going to miss you.” She held out her paw to shake. Viv did. “Property damage notwithstanding.”
Viv laughed and sniffed. “You, too. I did get the better end of the deal.”
Satchel approached and sketched a neat bow. “You have my undying thanks, m’lady,” he said, and something about his voice kept Viv from correcting him. “I never dared dream of my liberty.”
“Are you planning to stay here, then?” asked Viv.
The homunculus tilted his head. “Fern has agreed to have me on for a while, and I believe I will enjoy the quiet. For the days yet to come? I cannot say. There are so many to account for.”
A hoot from Viv’s feet made her look down. Potroast nuzzled her boot, his soft feathers flaring against the leather.
“Now you get affectionate, huh? I guess I’ll even miss you, you little monster.” She fished the final chunk of bacon she’d saved from her pocket and showed it to him.
He stared up at her with his huge golden eyes, and then delicately took it from her hand. The gryphet held it in his beak for a moment, then gently placed it on the floor, as if to say, “I’ll save this for later.” Then he very deliberately licked one of her outstretched fingers.
“Huh,” said Viv, because her voice was too choked for more. Somehow, this on top of everything else was too much to endure.
She stood and offered more words of increasing inadequacy until there was nothing to do but go.
As she opened the door to leave, she took one last look back at the three of them.
“See you in the story past the story,” said Fern.
And then the red door closed behind her.
EPILOGUE
Many Stories Later
Tandri opened the door to Legends & Lattes, and a spring breeze just this side of a winter chill followed her in. She unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and swung a canvas bag from her shoulder, setting it on the counter.
Viv looked up from where she was wiping down the gnomish coffee maker.
“Thimble already gone?” asked the succubus.
“You just missed him,” replied Viv. The rattkin baker had scurried home only moments before. “Still a few of these left, though.” She nudged a plateful of Thimblets with the back of a hand.
“I’m just back from the post, and the orders are out, but this was waiting for you there. I saved them a trip.” She searched her bag and withdrew a brown envelope with a red wax seal. “I don’t recall any business we’ve done in Murk?”