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A utumn deepened, and reopening day approached, although the final two weeks crawled by.

The days brimmed with minor tasks that took longer than seemed possible—refitting lanterns, hanging a replacement chandelier, staining and lacquering the table and counter tops, installing the ovens, and mounting a pair of new auto-circulators.

Viv also made a few special orders with a loan from Gallina.

She extracted a half-joking promise that the gnome would menace her with knives if she wasn’t repaid in two months.

Viv felt she’d exceeded the bounds of friendship in every possible direction with everyone she knew, at this point, although she had a few ideas on how to rectify that.

* * *

When Thimble beheld the new pair of ovens, the expanded pantry and cold-box, and the more generous back counter space, he was overcome.

He scurried from one end of the kitchen to the other, inspecting all the new cookware that Tandri had assembled, peering into the oven doors, and running his hands lovingly over the stovetops.

He stood before Viv, hands clasped in front of him, and gave her a little ducking bow.

“ It’s perfect, ” he whispered, and his oil-drop eyes brimmed.

She hunkered down before him, “I told you, the best deserve the best.”

He threw his arms around her upper arm and gave it a brief, startling hug, and then disappeared into the pantry.

Viv found her throat unaccountably thick.

* * *

The morning before the reopening, Tandri was already gone from her room when Viv awoke, which was unusual. Her heart twisted, but her concerns eased when she saw the note that Tandri had left on the vanity.

ERRANDS TO RUN. WILL SEE YOU AT THE SHOP LATER.

Honestly, it couldn’t have worked out better, since Viv wanted to take delivery of a few shipments without the others around.

* * *

When she unlocked the door to Legends & Lattes, it was empty and quiet, the smell of wood stain and lacquer still strong.

The autumn chill had deepened, so she started a fire in one of the stoves and idly watched the auto-circulators begin their slow revolutions.

The old coffee machine gleamed on the counter top, only marred by a few scratches and dings from its unceremonious rescue months before.

She ascended the staircase, running her hand along the rail.

She paced through the new rooms, still chilly, but she could feel the heat beginning to creep through the floor from the kitchen below.

A new set of windows let the morning light pool at a slant in the western corners. Cal had really outdone himself.

There was a knock on the shop door, and she descended to find two younger dwarves, still with shortish beards, stamping their feet and rubbing their hands in the brisk air.

“Delivery?” The taller of them pulled a folded sheet from a cloak pocket. “And… assembly?”

“Been waiting for it,” said Viv. “I’ll get the other doors.”

She opened the big bay doors to the dining area and helped unload and move the cargo up the narrow staircase with only a little cursing and grunting amongst them.

Unbundling their tools, the dwarves briskly and efficiently assembled what they’d brought. Viv signed the delivery receipt and bid them stay warm.

She spent another hour upstairs, fussing and fidgeting, before deciding she’d break something if she didn’t stop.

On the ground floor, Viv clipped a barrier rope across the base of the staircase.

Then she pulled a fresh sack of beans from the pantry and one of the new ceramic mugs.

She lost herself in the meditative act of priming the machine and grinding and brewing.

The hiss of steam and the smell of fresh coffee permeated the shop, and with the warmth of the stove and the frost riming the edges of the front windows, something clenched and watchful inside Viv released for the first time since the fire.

She leaned on the counter over a fresh chapbook, sipped her coffee, gazed at the blurs passing in the street, and gloried in a suspended moment of contentment.

The spell was broken when the front door banged open, letting in a curl of icy wind and revealing Cal standing on the threshold. He was bundled in a long coat and gloves. Behind him, Viv could see the first flakes of an early snow drifting down.

“Hm. You’re here. Good.”

He stepped back outside before Viv could reply.

“I’ve got my end,” he said to someone in the street, and when he reappeared, he and Tandri had either side of something large and awkward and wrapped up in paper and twine.

They leaned it against the counter and stood back.

Tandri’s face was flushed with the cold, and she hurriedly closed the door behind them.

“Over next to the stove, you two. Looks like winter’s setting in early.” Viv came around the counter and stared at the big parcel, hands on hips. “What’s all this, then?”

“Well,” said Tandri, rubbing her hands briskly. “Something you can’t open the shop without.” She smiled at Viv, but the smile was a little anxious. “You should… you should probably open it now.”

Cal nodded, too, stripping off his gloves and tucking them into a pocket.

Viv knelt and, after fumbling with knotted twine for a few seconds, cut the ties with her pocketknife. Rough brown paper shucked away from what lay beneath.

It was the shop sign.

“I thought it burned in the fire,” she whispered.

“Saved it,” said Cal. “Or most of it, I s’pose.”

“Hang on… is this…?”

Diagonally, where the embossed silhouette of a sword had once been, a metal one was mounted. Steel. There was a unique mother-of-pearl sheen to it that she recognized.

“It is,” said Tandri, moving to stand behind her.

She had her arms crossed tensely in front of her.

“I… took it after you… well, I thought that… maybe you didn’t have to be fully rid of it.

Not yet.” Then, in a rush, “I was just thinking that you don’t have to forget who you were … because that’s what brought you here .”

Viv ran a finger over Blackblood’s new incarnation, cut down to an icon of her former self. Then, she just stared at it.

“Do you… like it?” asked Tandri. “If you don’t, we can unmount—”

“It’s perfect,” said Viv. “I can’t believe you saved her.”

She rose and embraced them both, blinking back tears as she did.

* * *

On reopening day, the snow persisted, icing Thune from steeple to cobble. Gray skies bloomed with pink, which limned the clouds to the east, promising more pre-winter flakes.

The refurbished sign hung proudly from the swing arm above the door, snow frosting its nooks and crannies.

Viv and Tandri arrived first to feed the stoves and fill the new water tubs.

Lighting the lanterns and candles filled the shop with a welcoming glow.

By the time Thimble slipped in the door, the dairyman had delivered their cream and butter and eggs.

The rattkin set to mixing and kneading, forming balls of dough to rise before assembling ingredients for his icings, humming to himself all the while.

Cal showed up, kicking snow from his boots and blowing from the cold, and Tandri brewed him a fresh cup.

He took it to the big, new table and curled his fingers gratefully around the warm mug, while they speculated on the size of the opening crowd and jokingly wagered over how quickly the rolls would sell out.

Surveying the kitchen for anything out of place, Viv caught sight of the rail they’d built along the back wall. “Ah, hells! I almost forgot!”

She disappeared into the pantry and returned with a big square of slate, which she slid onto the counter, and presented Tandri with a new set of colored chalk.

After a moment’s thought, Tandri set to work.

Viv and Cal crowded close to watch, until she gave them both the side-eye, and they quickly found other tasks with which to busy themselves.

Tandri straightened and stood back to examine her handiwork. “Help me get it on the wall,” she said.

Viv lifted it into place.

~Legends & Lattes ~

re-est. NOVENDER 1386

GRAND REOPENING

~Menu~

Coffee ~ exotic aroma & rich, full-bodied roast—⒈／⒉ bit

Latte ~ a sophisticated and creamy variation—1 bit

Any drink ICED ~ a refined twist—add ⒈／⒉ bit

Cinnamon Roll ~ heavenly frosted cinnamon pastry—4 bits

Thimblets ~ crunchy nut & fruit delicacies—2 bits

Midnight Crescents ~ buttery foldover with a sinful center—4 bits

Inquire About Traveling Mugs

*

WHAT FLAMES COULD NOT CONSUME,

NEVER SHALL BE EXTINGUISHED

* * *

When they opened the doors, there was already a line down the street, despite the cold.

They ushered everyone inside, letting the line curl back into the dining area, and the shop rapidly warmed.

Cheerful conversation drowned out the hiss of the machine, and eager customers with red cheeks and coats undone offered congratulations as they gratefully took their hot drinks and shuffled to find seats.

“Early for you, isn’t it?” greeted Viv, when Hemington stepped up to the counter.

“Yes, well,” he replied, looking with real appreciation around the shop. “It’s all rather exciting, though, isn’t it? I’ve missed this place, I don’t mind saying.”

“Not just your research, then?”

He sighed, “Whatever phenomenon was happening here, it’s passed. The ley lines fluctuate as normal. I can’t help but wonder if that fire had something to do with it. Did they ever find the arsonist?”

“Afraid not,” said Viv.

“A shame. Still, this is all so much more comfortable.”

Viv nodded. “Iced coffee, then?”

He deliberated for a moment, and then, with some embarrassment, said, “You know, given the weather… perhaps I’ll have… a hot one.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “ You , Hem?”

Hemington coughed. “Ah. And one of those rolls.”

She smiled and didn’t give him any further trouble over it.

* * *

“Whoo! Cold out.” Pendry pulled the door closed behind him. He wore half mittens, and he’d tucked his cloth-wrapped lute under an arm. A boxy, black device dangled from his fingers by a strap.

“Let’s get you something hot to drink,” said Tandri, already starting a latte.

“Yes, please!” He stepped to the right and caught his first glimpse of the stage at the end of the dining area. A tall stool awaited him, and a dark curtain draped the wall behind it. “Oh, wow,” he breathed. “For me?”

“Don’t trip on the way up,” teased Viv. “Before you get settled, though, I have to know. What’s that?” She gestured at the box he carried.

“Ah. This! Well, it’s a, uh… they call it an… Arcane Amplifier? It, uh… it makes….”

“… makes things louder?” finished Viv.

“Sometimes…?” He looked pained.

“Make sure the glass stays in the windows, that’s all I ask. We just put this place back together.”

He nodded awkwardly, took his drink, and disappeared around the corner.

At the first opportunity, Viv checked in on him. She smiled to see the kid flanked by stone he’d laid himself.

Pendry warmed up with a catchy bit of finger-picking. The box sat a few feet away, and his music filled the room in a way that was present without intruding—enfolding rather than bludgeoning. When Pendry sang in his plaintive, sweet voice, she smiled and withdrew.

She turned to find herself face-to-face with the Madrigal, clad this time in a rich, red winter cloak with a fur ruff.

Viv was caught off guard for a moment, at a loss for words.

“Congratulations,” said the Madrigal, inclining her head slightly. “I’m pleased to see the progress here. Your establishment is a real credit to the Redstone district. It would’ve been such a shame for it to disappear after such promising initial success.”

Viv recovered enough to stammer, “Uh, thank you, ma’am,” Thinking of all the deliveries and the unexpected laborers, she leaned closer. “And I mean that, truly. Thank you .”

The Madrigal glanced significantly toward the coffee maker and the piles of pastries on tiered serving trays, and Viv sidled around the counter to begin brewing her a cup.

Tandri turned, startled at the sight of the woman, and immediately began selecting rolls and Thimblets.

“A shame the arsonist wasn’t apprehended,” said the Madrigal. “I do hope they don’t return.”

“Doubt they will.” Viv pursed her lips as the Madrigal seized her gaze. “I figure they got what they came for. No reason to come back.”

The Madrigal nodded as she took her drink and a bulging sack of baked goods and departed.

She didn’t offer to pay this time, which was an honest relief.

* * *

When Durias made an appearance that afternoon, his cheeks pinked with the cold and snow in his neat, white beard, he was without his chessboard.

“Well,” he said, his hands tucked into his coat. “Just like I remembered.”

“Pretty close, anyway,” said Viv. “We made a few improvements.”

He seemed startled. “Oh, yes, I suppose that’s true, looking at it from your end.”

“Get you something to drink?”

“Oh my, yes, please. And one of those as well,” he said, standing on tiptoe and pointing at the chocolate crescents.

“Have you seen the dire-cat around?” Viv asked as she made his drink.

“She comes and goes as she likes,” replied the gnome. “But I daresay you’ll see her sometime soon.”

As Viv slid him his drink and pastry, Durias said, “It’ll work out just fine, you know.”

“So far.” Viv looked around the busy shop with a small smile. “It seems to be.”

“Oh, certainly, the shop,” said the gnome. “But the rest of it, too.”

“The rest?”

“Indeed.” And he took his order, toddling off into the dining area.

Tandri leaned around her and looked after him. “Do you think he’s cryptic on purpose?”

Viv shrugged, thinking about his one-sided chess game and about her arrangements upstairs. “Couldn’t say. Don’t think I’d ever want to play Faro with him, though.”