They headed out the back door into the field where the half-dozen unicorn mares were grazing. The shopkeeper reached into her apron pocket and pulled out rose petals. She whistled and tossed the petals onto the stone walkway that cut through the grass to a well beside a two-story barn.
The unicorns came trotting toward her, silent across the grass, and then when they reached the walkway, their hooves chimed like bells made of crystal. The varying tones washed over them and then vanished into the breeze as the unicorns nibbled the petals and then retreated out into the field. Marin found herself longing to hear the sound again—it lingered in her memory, the pureness of the chimes.
“Beautiful,” Dax murmured. He then kissed the shopkeeper on her wrinkled cheek. Marin couldn’t help thinking of how close he’d been in that one bed, close without once touching. “Thank you, ma’am. That was a profound aural experience.”
The shopkeeper laughed. “It’s a good thing my granddaughter isn’t here today—she doesn’t need the distraction.” She swatted him lightly, still laughing. “You are too charming for your own good.”
I agree with that.After thanking the shopkeeper for both the cheese and her time, Marin steered Dax toward the exit. He kept looking back at the unicorns. As they headed for the harbor, the orange cat flew behind them, and Ree hopped beside them.
As they reached the harbor, Dax said to Marin, “Thank you. I never would have heard that wonder if you hadn’t allowed me to come with you on your sailboat.”
Marin squirmed at the word “allowed.” She didn’t like how that word felt, though she supposed it was accurate—she was her boat’s captain. Still, she didn’t like the uneven power dynamic it implied. Not between her and Dax. “I wouldn’t have heard it either if you hadn’t been with me to ask.”
Chiming in, Ree said, “You should write a song about unicorn cheese.” He warbled: “Unicorn cheese, as nice as you please! Unicorn cheese…It needs another rhyme.” He considered options the rest of the way to the dock. “Cheese, freeze, sneeze, keys…”
“Honey bees?” Dax suggested.
“Sentient trees,” Ree offered.
While the two of them continued to swap rhymes, Marin boardedSilver. She stacked the package of cheese belowdecks in her icebox and then returned to untie the lines from the dock. Under herdirection, Dax and Ree raised the mainsheet and readied the jib. Perri greeted them happily as they sailed out of the harbor.
From the mast, Ree cried, “Onward, Captain!”
Smiling, Marin aimed the boat toward their next destination, and the sails filled with wind as Dax and Ree sang lustily about the glories of cheese and sentient trees.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They completed all the deliveries, including the specialty cheese, exactly on schedule, which Marin was regretting as the island of Flicker came into view. If she’d been less efficient, less good at her job, or if the weather had been less ideal, she could have “accidentally” missed the festival and said, “Oops, sorry—tried, but the sea, you know how it is” to her parents days, even weeks, later. But no, it hadn’t occurred to her.
It would have disappointed Ma and Pa.
She’d done enough of that.
It also would have disappointed the very nice couple who had been ecstatic to receive their unicorn cheese and other specialty slices. They’d gushed to Marin about how they planned to serve the cheese at their wedding to make the event as special and magical as possible. They’d also shared their plans to create enchanted folded napkins, which… why?
“Are you all right?” Dax asked.
“Sure. Yes. Of course. Why?”
“You look tense. Your”—he gestured toward her—“shoulders are practically in your ears, and you’re gripping the helm like you’re trying to squeeze water out of it.”
Her left hand was squeezing the wheel so hard that her knucklesgleamed white through her silver skin, while her right hand held the mainsheet. “I am possibly a bit tense, yes.”
“Because of Iovar?”
She lost her grip on the line, and the sail luffed out. Catching it, she pulled it back into position and slid it into the cleat. “Let’s not ever say his name again unless it’s to tell me he’s been not-so-tragically eaten by a kraken, okay?”
“Sorry,” Dax said.
“I was thinking about the napkins.”
He accepted that deflection as if it were an honest answer, which she thought was kind of him. “I couldn’t bear to tell them it was a terrible idea. If they’d just wanted to fold the napkins into the shapes of swans, that would have been fine, but to have them also enchanted to fly…”
Marin agreed. “What if someone spits out some gristly steak? Or uses it to wipe their nose? Guess it’ll make it a memorable wedding, as Aunt Whatever’s false teeth that she put in her napkin for safekeeping soar around the dance floor.”
Ree giggled, his leaves rustling.
“At least they’ll have the cheese,” Marin said.
