In the silence that followed, Viv couldn’t breathe.
“Who is this room for, Viv?” she asked, quietly. Her tail made a cautious, flickering ‘S’ behind her.
“For you. If you’ll have it.”
And there was a pulse of that warmth, that hooded self which only shone forth when Tandri was at her most unguarded.
She turned to look back at Viv.
Tandri didn’t answer, instead closing the distance between them. Wrapping her arms around Viv, cheek to chest, she released all of her restraint.
For the first time, Viv faced the totality of Tandri’s essential self, and was struck by the eloquence and delicacy that was revealed.
It was easy to see how one might mistake her nature for something purely sensual, how one might glean only what they most desired from that densely-twined rush of feeling.
Hers was a potent dialect of emotion, rich with meaning, comprehensible only to those intimately aware of its subtleties.
Tandri didn’t have to sayyes.
The language was understood.
And when her lips found Viv’s, no doubt could have survived.
EPILOGUE
Fennus strode, cloaked, through the webwork of Thune’s southern alleys. Snow flicked in little curls from the slanting roofs above.
He was extremely cold and extremely irritated.
He’d stayed well clear of the city since the fire—a Thaumic construction of which he’d been quite proud. He was even a little relieved that Viv had survived unscathed. He hadn’t explicitly wanted to cause her injury. Or at least, nothingtooextreme.
Roon, Taivus, and Gallina had been less than gracious about it, but he was sure that in time, their misplaced outrage would fade. And if it didn’t, he supposed that might not be such a tragedy, all things considered.
Rumors of the shop reopening had drawn him back, along with the increasingly insistent doubts he’d been harboring since procuring the Scalvert’s Stone. Fennus simplyhadto investigate.
The shop was, indeed, rebuilt, and it looked at least as successful as before, if not more so. Which begged the question, had the Stone any worth whatsoever? If it wasn’t responsible for Viv’s string of fortunate turns, then what couldheexpect of it?
Had all of this really been for nothing?
If Viv had been a fool to place her faith in it, then what did that make him? A twice-damned fool?
It really was quite vexing.
Set in a small medallion, Fennus kept it tucked beneath his tunic, next to his skin. The silver of the setting was cold against his flesh.
He rounded a corner, heading toward the docks, when the light at the other end darkened. Someone else had stepped into the narrow, twisting alley.
His neck prickled as another presence fell in behind him.
“I’d heard you might be back in the city,” said a voice he vaguely remembered.
Turning, Fennus placed it. That lackey of the Madrigal’s named…Lack, amusingly enough. The enormous hat really was in poor taste.
Fennus smiled thinly. “Only briefly. I’d ask if I could help you, purely out of politeness, but I’m afraid my schedule won’t allow it. I’m also not feeling particularly polite, at the moment.”
“Oh, we don’t need too much of your time,” said Lack. “But the Madrigal was quite interested in that stone you were kind enough to mention. And I’ve heard tell it might have a new owner. That’d be you, wouldn’t it, sir?”
Fennus’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re all the Madrigal sent, she’s less perceptive than I gave her credit for.” Faster than thought, he drew a slender white rapier from his side, luminous with Thaumic glow and alive with a blue tracery of leaves.
