“Well. That’s true,” Viv said. “Still, for all that, not sure I can roll over for a little man in a big hat and a silly shirt.”
Laney chuckled darkly. “Never mind the man in the hat. The Madrigal’s what you want to worry about, and nothin’ silly about them.”
“I’ll be careful,” said Viv.
They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes.
Viv glanced sidelong at Laney’s mug of tea. “Say, you ever have coffee?” she asked.
Laney blinked at her and looked affronted. “Why, I never have. And the way I was brought up, a lady doesn’t talk about her maladies,” she said primly.
Viv barked a laugh, to the old woman’s great annoyance.
* * *
Viv movedher bedroll and lantern to the loft under the slope of the roof. The smell of coffee beans filtered up through the cracks in the boards, and she inhaled it deeply, like a warm, earthy memory. The tarpaulin thumped like a distant drum in the occasional gust of wind.
In the lantern’s light, Blackblood gleamed where it leaned against the wall. Viv stared at it for a long time and thought about the man in the hat and the Madrigal. She felt a sudden impulse to sleep next to the blade, as she had in a hundred campsites and bivouacs.
She deliberately turned away, extinguished the lantern, and filled her lungs with the dark smell from below.
On the roof, there was a solid thud, followed by a rhythmic heavy padding and a scratching clatter on the tiles, but she was already beginning to doze, and she lost it in the sound of the tarpaulin.
Then she was asleep.
4
The lumber, tiles, and other supplies came in piecemeal over the next few days. Showers came and went, then the sky cleared entirely. When it did, Viv and Cal repaired the hole in the roof, shucking old tiles down through the gap to shatter on the floor. She was surprised at how many of the timbers they had to take up to mend it fully.
Cal was just as methodical and mindful about the repair work as she’d hoped. It was a hard two days of labor for the both of them, but the roof was fully proof against water again.
Next, Cal examined the interior, sounding the boards with a knuckle and several times digging a fistful of dry-rotten wood out and shaking his head at it. After four days of prying out old timber and nailing in fresh, Viv started to wonder if they might have been better off rebuilding the whole damn thing. She rented the cart from the miller again to haul away the debris.
They built a permanent and sturdier ladder into the loft. Viv was a fast study and a reasonable hand with a hammer and nails. Accurately slinging a slab of metal and striking a target was squarely within the realm of her abilities.
When Cal first clambered into the loft and spied Blackblood glimmering darkly in the corner, he made no comment on it. “Cozy,” he said instead. “Be wantin’ a bed and dresser, no doubt.”
“No need,” said Viv. “I’m used to sleeping rough.”
“Used to ain’t the same as ought to.” But he pressed no further, and that was that.
In the main stable area, they did as Cal had suggested, cutting down the stall walls and converting each into a sort of booth. The hob boxed in neat U-benches along the interiors. They pre-assembled tabletops, and Viv easily orc-handled them into place across trestles.
Viv cut two high windows into the northern and eastern walls, letting the morning sun crawl down from the loft and into the new dining area.
They sanded the office counter and added a hinged extension to the end for extra workspace. Cal repurposed some old tack shelves and moved them to the back wall of what Viv now thought of as the storefront. He also managed to replace some cracked panes in the mullioned front window next to the smaller door.
“Well, doesn’t look much like a stable anymore,” observed Viv, watching him fit in the last bit of glass.
“Hm. Mighty pleased it quit smellin’ like one too.”
* * *
One afternoon,Viv returned from the cooper with a water barrel on one shoulder and a few buckets in hand. She tucked the barrel in the corner, back of the counter. She drew water from the well a few blocks down, and Cal checked for leaks as she filled it.
They converted the backroom of the office into a pantry with more shelves. Viv consulted her notes and excavated a pit that she insulated with clay for cold storage. Cal added a neat, hinged door.
Viv did the ladder-work of whitewashing the front, while Cal re-chinked mortar between the river stones low on the walls.
