Viv thrust her hand at him. “Don’t be a stranger, Cal.”
He returned the shake, his hand swallowed by hers. “You neither, Viv. Been good work.” Somehow, from him, the words were touching.
“It was good to meet you, Cal,” said Tandri.
Then, with a nod and another small bow to both of them, he left.
Viv’s heart broke a little to see him go.
* * *
While Tandri rolledup her sleeves and cleaned the mugs in the wash bucket and set them out to dry, Viv went into the pantry and retrieved a long holly garland she’d bought when she’d gone for jugs of milk that morning.
For a long moment, she stared at Blackblood where it was mounted on the wall and then twined the garland from end to end and stood back, eying it critically.
“It looks nice,” said Tandri, drying her hands and startling Viv out of her reverie.
“I just thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“Before, you could have picked it up and swung it at any moment,” said Tandri. “It was a weapon.” She gave Viv a thoughtful look. “Now, it’s a relic. A decoration. Something from before.”
Viv nodded. “Suppose you’re right.”
Tandri gave her a little smile that was almost a smirk. “I usually am. Something you’ll eventually come to terms with.”
“Well, you’ll excuse me if I hope you’re wrong about tomorrow.”
“If Iamright, don’t take it personally.”
Viv snorted. “I’ll try not to.” But she was still worried.
While Tandri tidied up, Viv went to the dining area and the Scalvert’s Stone’s resting place. She tapped the flagstone with her foot three times, for luck, and then withdrew a much-thumbed scrap of parchment from her pocket.
Well-nigh to thaumic line,
the Scalvert’s Stone a-fire
draws the ring of fortune,
aspect of heart’s desire.
“I’ll be leaving now,” said Tandri, coming into the room and startling her again.
Viv hurriedly stuffed the scrap back into her breeches as the woman gave her a puzzled look. “Uh, great! Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow. Suppose I should try to sleep, but I honestly don’t think I can.”
“I’m sure–”
At a sudden clatter and thump, they both turned toward the front of the shop.
Viv ducked her head out the door.
Laney’s plate still sat on the wrought-iron table, but the neglected fig cake, which had been nearly whole, was missing.
Tandri joined her at the door and hummed.
“What in the eight hells?” said Viv.
“Well, whoever made off with it,” said Tandri. “I feel very, very sorry for them.”
