They were beings of pure magic given flesh, but sure, call them “fancy horses.” “Okeydokey then, um, cheese shop?” Marin squared her shoulders and marched toward the shop. The sign over the door was a large wedge of cheese carved out of wood and painted yellow.
A bell rang as she stepped inside, followed by Dax and Ree. Stowy flew at hip height into the store. From the back, a woman with a wobbling voice called, “No cats in the shop! Cats lick cheese! Eee, shoo-shoo!”
Marin scooped Stowy up as he landed beside a pyramid of cheese, and she deposited him outside. “You can have extra fish when we’re back on the boat,” she told him. “Don’t bother the unicorns, okay?”
She doubted he understood her, but he flew up onto the thatched roof to nap in the sun or chew on the thatch. Or both. She returned inside to see the shopkeeper had emerged.
The shopkeeper was tiny and as wrinkled as a walnut, with ears that were covered in pale pink fur and draped down to her shoulders. Her nose was rabbitlike too, a pink button with whiskers sprouting from either side. Her eyes and body were human. Marin couldn’t see if she had a tail. She walked with a cane that was painted as yellow as the wood cheese outside. “Welcome to the Magical Cheese Emporium,” the shopkeeper said grandly. “The only cheese shop in the Crescent Islands that offers an array of dairy products derived from creatures of magical origin.”
“I… did not know that was a thing.” Marin consulted the list she’d taken from the job board. She’d known they were cheesesbecause it helpfully said “cheese” at the top of the list, but she didn’t recognize any of the particular types of cheese.
“This place is amazing,” Dax said. “The unicorns outside…”
“Yes, I milk them myself,” the shopkeeper said proudly. “Although it’s getting tougher for me to squat down there.” She put her hands on her lower back and arched with a wince. “Thinking of retiring, finding a nice sunny spot where I can plant a few tomatoes and catch up on my knitting. Been training my granddaughter, now that she’s finally free of that soul-sucking city, but is her heart in it? I can’t tell.”
Marin was stuck on that first sentence. “The unicorns let you milk them?”
The shopkeeper snorted. “Let? If I miss a milking, they practically bash down the door, and their hooves sound like bells. Absolutely drive you to screaming if you’re trying to sleep in and all you hear isding-ding-ding-neigh-neigh!”
Dax’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to hear their hooves.”
“Me too!” Ree chimed in.
Okay, this was all fascinating, but they were here for a purpose. “After we make our purchase,” she told Dax and Ree. She handed the list to the shopkeeper. “Do you have these in stock?”
The shopkeeper perused the list. “Mm, yes… yes… not this time of year, but… ah… I can fulfill most of it and offer substitutions on the rest. Would that suffice?”
“Depending on the price, yes.”
They haggled briefly on the price until both were satisfied, and then the shopkeeper began slicing and wrapping different parcels of cheese. Marin wandered around the shop. It smelled like cheese, of course, but also of spices and nuts. She studied one tray of wrapped cheeses labeled “Chimera cheese—smoky flavor with hints of pepper, crystallized texture, aged six months.” She didn’t know a chimera produced milk. She supposed it had goat parts, so… yeah, she still couldn’t picture it.
Dax asked, “What does unicorn cheese taste like?”
“Would you two like a sample?” the shopkeeper offered. “This one is our famous Aged Averian, made from pure unicorn milk and aged for two years.” She bustled over to a case of cheeses and sliced off two little chunks from an iridescent wheel. When the sunlight hit the cheese, it looked like an opal, filled with a rainbow of moving colors.
Marin took the piece and popped it in her mouth.
“Ooh, what’s it like?” Ree asked.
It tasted like eating sunshine. She closed her eyes and imagined she was on her sailboat, no land in sight, a perfect breeze, a cloudless sky, water all around.Thatwas what it tasted like. She opened her eyes again and looked at Dax.
“It’s musical,” he said, wonder in his voice. “It tastes like the sound of the purest flute.”
“That… doesn’t make much sense,” Ree said.
Marin told him, “It tastes like the sea on a perfect day.”
“Ahhh…”
“Brilliant, isn’t it?” the shopkeeper said. “To me, it tastes like an afternoon nap, after you’ve had a bit of cake.” She finished packaging up the purchase and handed it all in a box to Marin. “Mind you don’t leave it out in the sun. The paper’s got a bit of enchantment on it to keep it from spoiling, but you don’t want to push it.”
“Thank you,” Marin said, taking the package and paying the requisite coins. “All right. Shall we sail?”
“Unicorn hooves?” Dax said plaintively. “Like bells?”
The shopkeeper chuckled. “Come out back, if you can spare the time.”
He looked at Marin like a hopeful puppy. She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Ten minutes, then we sail.”
