“Then, you think if the Stone is taken away, maybe there’s some sort of… backlash. Like bad luck?”
“I don’t know for sure,” said Tandri. “Is the Stone even Thaumistry? Do the same principles apply?” She winced. “It’s justmaybea possibility. But if it’s true, the real question you…wehave to ask isn’t how much there is to lose. It’s how much more there is to take after that.”
Viv stared at Tandri and clenched her jaw.
“More than I want to give up.”
* * *
Viv triedto think of some other place inside the building to store the Stone—one more secure—but eventually resigned herself to the fact that it really didn’t matter. If Fennus had found it in the first place, a new hiding spot wouldn’t be a secret for long. Since she’d surprised him once, he’d assume his intrusion would be detected, so she couldn’t imagine him creeping in at night a second time. She needed to figure out how he’d come at her next.
Or through whom.
Waitingfor a blow to fall was not something that Viv was used to. She’d spent a lifetime ending threats before they manifested, not bracing herself for a knife in the back. Constant wariness wore at her, and she became increasingly snappish and impatient.
The first week was the worst, and she apologized more than once to Tandri and Thimble for being short with them. A few times, Tandri gently moved her aside and took over at the counter when Viv didn’t realize she was glowering menacingly at a customer. Viv was both embarrassed and grateful.
But inevitably, time dulled the edge of her anxiety, reducing it to the occasional startle at an imagined sound in the night and furtive glances toward the Stone’s resting place throughout the day.
At the same time, Pendry’s scheduled performances became something of a pleasant hassle. A regular audience began to build for his appearances. Quite a few of the attendees didn’t actually buy anything, but Viv was fairly certain that some of his fans were converting to actual customers.
To manage, they sorted out a way to add overflow seating. Viv bought more tables that they stored in the alley, and on performance days, they set them in the street and threw the big doors wide.
The kid, for his part, was slumping less, smiling more, and his bulk finally seemed to fit the space he occupied.
Once or twice, Laney made her way across the street to make a few tart complaints about the noise, but since they were usually delivered around a mouthful of Thimble’s baking, the sting was somewhat lessened.
Amity even appeared during performances, weaving between startled customers and settling beneath the big trestle table. Regulars learned to be protective of their treats, since she casually swallowed any unattended pastries in her path. Her lashing tail was a menace to mugs.
Viv never once considered shooing her away.
* * *
Three weeks had comeand gone since Fennus’s nighttime intrusion, and while Viv couldn’t pretend the threat had passed, she did relax back into her routine. Her mood improved, and she hadn’t apologized for a waspish remark in a fortnight.
Cal took to dropping in more regularly, and Viv caught him in huddled conference with Tandri once or twice. He made a few loud and pointed observations about the quality of the locks, and Viv assured him she’d look into replacements.
When the Madrigal strode into the shop, Viv stood open-mouthed for a moment.
“Good evening,” the woman said.
“Evening, um… ma’am,” she managed. “Can I help you?” Viv had the good sense not to speak her name, at least, butma’am? She cringed inwardly.
The Madrigal’s dress was understatedly elegant, and she carried a handbag over one arm. Viv spotted at least one of her men, subtly shadowing her from the street. And if there was one, at least two more lurked out of sight.
The woman’s eyes glittered with cold, curious regard.
Gods, what if I’d made anenemyof her,thought Viv. She could hardly believe she’d ever spoken so bluntly to her face.
“I’ve heard so much about this establishment,” the Madrigal said. “At my age, I don’t get out quite as much as I once did, but the opportunity presented itself, and I simply had to see.”
“Well, we try to make sure we’re good neighbors,” said Viv, asking as subtly as she could manage if there’d been some misstep on her part.
“Indeed, I’m sure you are. Not everyone is so neighborly, though, I fear. And that element can sometimes be quite tenacious.”
She pointedly held Viv’s gaze, then crisply opened her handbag and reached within. “Ah, yes, and I’d like one of those crescent pastries, please, my dear.
Numbly Viv took the coins and handed over the foldover, wrapped in waxed paper. She lowered her voice. “Tenacious?”
