“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.”
“Like I said, this is what I do,” replied Viv. She grinned a little. “Now, you’d better take care of that paint in your fur. You look like you’ve been murdering chickens.”
“Aw, shit,” said Gallina, shaking her open hand. “Was that wet?”
Viv was so astounded to see the gnome in the bookshop, she almost forgot to be annoyed. “Didn’t you see the sign about the paint?”
The gnome braced the door open with her back—on the unpainted side—and glanced over at the window, and then up, where she finally spied it. “Outta my eyeline.”
Viv pushed away from the counter, where she’d been leaning in conference with Fern. “If that’s got fingerprints in it now…”
“Don’t get all touchy. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“If it’s on your hands, it’s not on the door,” groused Viv.
“What do you care? It’s not your—Oh, hey.” Gallina wiggled her fingers at Fern. “Nice to meetcha.”
The rattkin put her chin in her paw and sighed. “It’s fine. I guess I should be thanking you for helping Viv. Some prints in the paint are a small price to pay.”
Gallina beamed, and Viv thought she might’ve puffed out her chest, too, though it was hard to tell under all the knives. “See, yeah, that’s what I’m—Wait,helping?”
“Saving my ass. Is that better?” asked Viv. “I’m still checking the door.” She stumped the rest of the way over and gave it a careful inspection while the gnome ventured into the shop, looking around with a critical eye.
“Fern,” said the rattkin. “And you must be Gallina?”
The gnome cocked a brow at Viv.
“Yes, I told her about you,” she said patiently. “You’reveryappreciated.”
Gallina settled into one of the chairs.
Herchair, Viv noted. Gallina appeared to be developing a habit.
“Hey, you’re right, this is pretty comfortable.”
Potroast trotted into view, promptly leapt onto the chair, and curled against the gnome’s leg.
“Aw, who’s this?” Gallina stroked the feathers between the gryphet’s eyes, and Potroast snuggled even closer.
Viv was more nettled by that than she would ever admit.
“That little gentleman is Potroast,” said Fern.
Gallina made a face. “What’d he do to deservethat?”
The rattkin laughed. “His real name is Pallus. My father named him after the Great Gryphon inThe Fourth Wishas a literary joke, but I was little and couldn’t say the name right, so…”
“You deserve better,” the gnome stage-whispered to Potroast.
Fern directed a curious glance at Viv, who shruggedhelplessly and asked, “Anything we can help you with?” Oddly, that “we” felt perfectly natural.
“I think you owe me another chapter or two,” Gallina said.
“Looking to fall asleep this early in the day, huh? Well, I don’t have the book with me.”
“Sounds like welcher talk. Are you, like,workin’here, or what?”
Viv shrugged. “I help out.”
