She sat cross-legged on the floor, rolled up her sleeves, lay her sketches beside her, and began inking. Her hand was steady as she executed clean strokes with her brush, but there was no tension in her mouth. The bits of wood turned out to be stencils that she used to guide some of the longer and more elaborate curves. Tandri glanced occasionally at her sketches for reference, although to Viv’s eye she barely needed them.
Less than an hour had passed when she swept a final snaking line across the bottom. She cleaned her brush on a rag and capped the inkwell, then stretched, and kneaded her back as she surveyed her handiwork.
Viv thought it looked quite professional. “Were you a sign-maker or something?”
“No. Just always had an… artistic bent.” Tandri turned to face her. “I’d say we close up now and set them out while it’s still daylight.”
“You’re the expert,” said Viv, quirking a smile. “I’ll put ’em where you want ’em.”
Tandri stepped into the street. “The first in front, here.” She pointed to a spot a few feet from the door. Viv carried out both signs, leaned one against the wall, and obliged with its mate, angling it so that the arrow pointed toward the entryway.
“And this one?” asked Viv, lifting the other with one hand.
“I was thinking the intersection where you can see the High Street. This way.” She led her along Redstone to the corner. After Viv set the sign down, Tandri checked the sightline in a few directions and fussed with the orientation until she was satisfied.
They returned to the shop just as the lamplighter began setting his taper to the street lanterns.
“So, you think this’ll really work?” Viv leaned against the doorframe as Tandri gathered her things.
“Couldn’t get worse,” said Tandri, emerging with folio in hand.
Viv’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know about that,” she murmured darkly. Over Tandri’s shoulder, she spied someone coming up the street. She’d recognize that hat anywhere.
“What’s that?” Tandri turned to follow her gaze as Lack strolled past, alongside a thick man with a lantern on his belt and a badge over his heart.
Lack rested one hand companionably on the Gatewarden’s shoulder. He smiled and muttered something, and the badged man barked a good-natured laugh in response.
“Nothing,” said Viv.
Lack stopped a few paces away and glanced at Viv in mild surprise, then past her to the shop. The Gatewarden looked puzzled by the interruption.
The stone-fey took a step closer, peering through the window. “Quite the blade, Viv. I do hope you’re not showing your teeth.” He pointed inside.
The Gatewarden squinted through the glass, as well. “Mmm, indeed,” he agreed, patting the hilt of his own short-sword.
“It’s sentimental,” said Viv, snarling more than she intended.
Tandri looked back and forth between them, gripping her folio tighter. “Should I be worried?” she asked quietly.
Viv wasn’t sure how to answer that, for it had dawned on her that there was more to be lost than the shop itself.
Lack nodded, his ruffles bouncing on his chest. “Two weeks,” he said. “Just a friendly reminder. Wouldn’t want you to forget to set aside a portion.”
The Gatewarden didn’t so much as blink at that, and any notion of tapping the local authorities for help evaporated.
Viv clenched her fists, then forced them to relax. “Guess we’d better hope things pick up by then,” she said. “Can’t squeeze blood from a stone.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’d know about squeezing blood from things. Or extracting it in… other ways. I imagine you can be quite resourceful. Rest assured, we are similarly talented.” His gaze flicked to Tandri, and he bowed, not mocking. In fact, his expression was confusingly apologetic.
“Shall we carry on?” prompted the Gatewarden.
Viv and Tandri watched them go.
“What was that all about?” asked Tandri, once they’d disappeared.
“Nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about it.”
Tandri’s expression was dubious, but she didn’t argue.
