“Wanted:

A decent worker looking for good coin. Must be able to pick up and move heavy crates to the designated area. Payment will be discussed upon meeting. Please meet us at the Beatrice Books located in the affluent district of Mamlak.”

Included was a map of the area with the bookstore marked. It was new after all, and she knew that it would be hard to find without some direction.

Simone crafted her parchment carefully. She didn’t want to be rushed for the job posting the coinage she was willing to pay. She figured this way, she could help out a struggling stranger without being accosted by the greedy. She posted it around Mamlak on most of the help boards, with Lewis’s help. They covered all of the city together.

Beatrice Books was a bookstore she was going to open. A new voyage for her. The first step was getting all the books into the store. It was a beautiful two story tudor building with ivy going up the sides.

“Just a little higher,” Simone said as she watched two men at work on her storefront sign. It had beautiful cursive in gold on a mahogany background. It fit the merchant neighborhood they were in.

Simone was a short woman of five feet. She had half of her hair up while the rest hung to her hips. A delicate gold hairpin held up her hair. Her gown had a heart-shaped bust and three-quarter sleeves that seemed to flow delicately. It was a dark blue with a white undercoat. Her locket hung snug on her neck. She certainly fit the image of a nobleman’s wife. In her arms was a white-haired baby boy who was looking around excitedly at all the noise of the neighborhood. His grey, stormy eyes kept looking up at his mother before squealing softly.

“We have a busy day, Cantrell,” the mother spoke down to her son and smiled. He was only six months old now, but his personality was coming out. “Your father will be here soon, but I do hope someone answers my request…” The flyers had been up for most of the morning.

Raile, the coin monger that he was, was all for the idea of Simone getting some bookstores around Canelux, perhaps a bigger venture once they saw how profitable it could be. He was the one who helped arrange the shipment of books Simone needed help with, after all.

Cal Rook had read the parchment twice before he believed it. A decent worker looking for good coin. That was plain enough, and plain was something Cal could appreciate. He had no talent for dancing around noble courts, no skill for merchant games, and no patience for work that required a man to smile while being cheated. But lifting crates? Moving heavy things where they needed to go? That he could do. That he could understand.
The map had been the true blessing, though. Mamlak was still new enough to him that the affluent district felt like another world entirely. The buildings stood taller and cleaner, the streets seemed better cared for, and even the air felt like it belonged to people with fuller purses. Cal moved through it with the careful awareness of someone who knew he did not quite fit, one hand occasionally checking the folded parchment to make sure he was still headed the right way.

When he finally found the marked building, he stopped for a moment across the street. Beatrice Books. The sign was being lifted into place as he arrived, gold cursive shining against polished mahogany. It was a beautiful place, two stories, with ivy climbing the walls like the building had been there far longer than it had. Cal had seen shops before, certainly, but this one had a warmth to it. A purpose. Like someone had put real thought into making it feel welcoming.

His eyes shifted from the sign to the woman standing below it. She was small, finely dressed, and carried herself like someone who belonged in this district. Noble, or close enough to it that Cal knew to mind his manners. The baby in her arms caught his attention next, white-haired and wide-eyed, making soft, delighted sounds at all the movement around him.Cal hesitated only a moment before stepping forward, folding the map and tucking it away carefully.

“Begging your pardon, my lady,” he said, giving a respectful nod. “I saw your posting. The one looking for a worker to move crates.” He glanced toward the storefront, then back to her. “My name’s Cal Rook. I can lift, carry, stack, haul, whatever needs doing. I don’t mind hard work, and I don’t mind taking direction.” A faint, honest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Truth be told, work that’s clear and fair sounds like a mercy right about now.” His gaze flicked once more to the sign being raised. “Beautiful place you’ve got here. Would be glad to help get it ready.”
When he finally found the ked building, he stopped for a moment across the stree

Simone noticed his presence before he had even stepped across the street to meet her. She gave a pleasant smile as he introduced himself. “I’m Simone Terrowin, and this is my son Cantrell.” The baby let out a squeal as he recognized his name, and Simone chuckled a bit. “My husband Lewis is on his way here, then we can give some direction.”

It didn’t take long for a black and blue phoenix to make its way to them. In a flash of flames, the white-haired man dusted himself off. He was looking Cal over, though his expression was rather mute. He seemed to lack clarity whether he was pleased or displeased with the situation.

“Lewis,” Simone whispered softly before chuckling. She knew her husband well after all.

“Right, Cal, I’m Lewis Terrowin,” the ex-assassin held his hand out to Cal as he spoke with a dull tone. “This is all Simone’s show, though, but I’ll be tagging along today.” The assassin seemed to know Cal’s name despite not being present for the introductions. Simone passed the baby over to Lewis, who seemed to take him gingerly.

“This way, please, we’re good hosts if anything.” Simone led the group into the store. Tall bookshelves filled the store, and it was clear a lot of love had gone into the design of the building. It felt like home, though still empty. Simone took them to the staged reading area with some couches and sat next to her husband. “Have a seat,” Simone motioned towards the sofa across from them.

A maid seemingly made her way from nowhere at all with a cart of tea and coffee. She went to fill some cups and place them in front of Simone and Lewis. “Thank you, Silva,” Simone said with a small smile.

“Coffee or tea, Sir?” The maid was elegant in her movement as she addressed Cal. After she was given directions, she got the chosen drink for him. A plate of cookies was placed between them on a table.

“So about the job,” Simone finally quipped after she took a sip of her tea. “There’s an airship arriving at the dock soon with my whole shipment. He’s been waiting for the go-ahead to dock. We’ll be paying you handsomely, of course. We figured five hundred crescents for a job of this size would be good to start. We’ll supply the horse and wagon to get to and from, of course. We’ll need to make sure all of the shipment is here as well. So Lewis and I will be going with you to the airship dock for the first trip. If our payment isn’t enough, we can always negotiate. We would hate to be bad hosts.”

Lewis waved his hand after kissing Cantrell’s head while they played. “Food and drinks will be on us for however long this takes. Simone says it’s good to be friendly with our help.” Even for how monotone and uninterested Lewis seemed to be, he did seem to want to do the right thing.

Cal had been prepared for a great many things when he answered the posting. A warehouse. A dockmaster. A foreman with a clipboard and a bad temper. Perhaps some merchant who would look him up and down, decide he was desperate, and offer him half of what the work was worth. He had not been prepared for a phoenix.

Cal stopped short as the black and blue bird swept toward them, and his hand twitched at his side before he had the good sense not to reach for anything. Then came the flash of flame, the white-haired man, and the introduction that followed. Cal blinked once, then gave Lewis’s offered hand a firm shake.

“Lewis Terrowin,” Cal repeated, committing the name to memory. “Good to meet you, sir.” He did not ask how the man already knew his name. That seemed like one of those questions a poor man asked right before he learned something expensive. Instead, Cal followed them inside.

The bookstore made him slow a little without meaning to. From the outside, it had been beautiful. Inside, it was something else entirely. The shelves, the open reading space, the care in the way everything had been placed. It did not look like someone had simply bought a building and filled it with books. It looked like someone had imagined a place where people might want to stay. Cal stood there a moment too long before realizing he had been invited to sit.

“Thank you,” he said, carefully taking the offered sofa like he was not entirely certain he was meant to be on something so fine. When the maid appeared, Cal looked briefly surprised, though he covered it quickly with a respectful nod. “Coffee, please. If it’s no trouble.”

The cookies were another surprise. So was the calm way Simone spoke of airships, wagons, shipments, and payment as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Then she named the amount.

Cal’s eyes lifted from his coffee. Five hundred crescents.

For a heartbeat, he said nothing at all. Not because he was insulted. Quite the opposite. It was more money than he had expected to see attached to honest work in a single day, and he was careful not to look too eager lest they decide they had made some sort of mistake.

“That is…” Cal cleared his throat, then straightened a bit. “That is more than fair, Lady Terrowin. More than fair.” He glanced between Simone and Lewis, then gave a small, sincere nod. “I won’t insult your offer by haggling over it. Five hundred crescents, food and drink, and use of the wagon is generous. I’ll earn it properly.”

His gaze moved briefly toward Cantrell, and the faintest smile softened his face before he looked back to Simone.

“As for the shipment, I can help check it against whatever list you have. Crates, boxes, bundles, labels, anything marked fragile. I may not know books the way you do, but I can count and I can pay attention. If something’s missing or damaged, best to catch it at the dock before it becomes someone else’s word against yours.”

He took a careful sip of the coffee, almost as if trying not to prove he had not been served like this often.

“And for what it’s worth,” he added, his voice a little quieter but still steady, “you are good hosts. Better than most I’ve known. I’ll not forget it.” Cal set the cup down and placed his hands on his knees, ready to rise when they were. “Just point me where I’m needed.”
Cal stopped short as the black and blue bird swept toward them, and his hand twitched at his side before he had the good sense not to reach for anything. Then came the flash of flame, the white-haired man, and the introduction that followed. Cal blinked once, then gave Lewis’s offered hand a firm shake.

Simone seemed to take notice that Cal was admiring her work. She seemed pleased by that, as it was just the right reaction she had been going for. If the Terrowins were known for anything, it was how perfectionate they tended to be with their requests.

“We weren’t too sure if we should put the amount down on the paper, to be honest,” Simone said quietly. “At least Lewis wasn’t.”

“Force of habit. You never know what kind of people will get attracted to that kind of pay,” Lewis went back to making faces at Cantrell. Which he seemed to love, but it was definitely out of character for Lewis to anyone who had met him.

“Lewis used to be a street rat,” she said the term with endearment. “No matter how he looks now… He was raised on the streets, stealing and making his living any way he could. So we wanted to offer good pay to help uplift someone when they might need it most. Pay it forward if you will.”

Lewis grunted a bit and balanced the baby on his legs now. “We might need you to help later as well. The kids are supposed to be dropping by to help unpack everything, but to be honest… It’s going to be chaos.”

Simone chuckled softly, “Lewis and I adopt a lot. We pay it forward. We have twenty-eight children, all ranging from adults down to our youngest here. The children want to help with the shop, but like Lewis said its going to be chaos. Camille can barely read, and she’ll try to arrange the books by picture. The younger twins will probably bring more chaos than anything. Please watch all doorway entrances; they like to pull pranks on people.”

“Never a boring day,” Lewis huffed softly as he began to bounce Cantrell.

“Please, enjoy your coffee and snack first while I go and procure the list for the shipment.” Simone stood up and went upstairs. Lewis seemed on guard, but Cantrell seemed good at distracting him.

“Simone says that the list is pretty long, but it's all organized. She’s spent way too much time perfecting the perfect storefront for it to be disorganized.” Lewis rolled his eyes lightly. It was clear they were communicating without even being in the room with each other. “Just don’t let her trap you into the perfect placement of things. We’ll be here all month.” It was a joke in his monotone way, but he had made it.

The wife came back down and handed Cal the long list that Lewis had warned him about. “They should all be organized by genre in their crates. Our friend Raile is normally good about this sort of thing. He would have made it as easy as possible for us to get started. I sent Snowball to tell our friend Aelous to land the airship. The airship’s name is the Silver Rose, so it should be easy to find its dock information at the airship port. Silva went to get the wagon and horse for you and will meet you out front once you’re ready.”

Cal listened more than he spoke. That was usually the wiser thing to do when sitting in someone else’s home, drinking their coffee, eating their food, and trying to understand exactly what manner of people had hired him. The answer, apparently, was complicated.

Lewis Terrowin looked like a man who could turn into a phoenix, appear in fire, know a stranger’s name before hearing it, and look at someone like he was measuring where best to put a knife. He also made faces at a baby. Simone Terrowin looked like a noblewoman from a painting, spoke with care and polish, and had apparently decided to use a bookstore shipment as a way to lift up someone who needed work.

And they had twenty-eight children. Cal’s hand paused halfway to his coffee.

“Twenty-eight,” he repeated before he could stop himself.

For a moment, his expression gave him away completely. Surprise first, then disbelief, and then something warmer. Not mockery. Not judgment. Just a man trying to picture a house full of that many lives and failing.

“Well,” he said at last, carefully picking his cup back up, “I suppose that explains why you both look calm about an airship full of crates.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “And why you’re warning me about doorways.”

He gave Cantrell a brief glance, then looked back to Lewis. The old habits Lewis spoke of were familiar enough in shape, even if Cal did not know the man’s story. Streets had a way of teaching lessons that stayed in the bones long after a person found softer clothes and better rooms.

“I understand the caution,” Cal said after a moment, his voice quieter. “Putting that much coin on a board would call all sorts. Some hungry. Some dishonest. Some both.” He glanced toward the stairs where Simone had gone. “And I understand the offer better now, too.”

He did not make a speech of it. The Terrowins did not seem like they needed one. But there was a sincerity in the way he said it, a small weight in the words. When Lewis warned him not to be trapped into perfect placement, Cal looked over at him with the serious expression of a man receiving tactical advice before battle.

“I’ll keep my guard up, then,” Cal said. “Books by genre, crates by list, and if Lady Terrowin starts asking whether a shelf should be moved a finger’s width to the left, I’ll look to you for extraction.”

It was dry, but there was humor there. Careful humor. The sort offered by someone testing whether he was allowed to be at ease. When Simone returned with the list, Cal stood to take it from her properly. His eyebrows lifted slightly as the length of it became clear, but he did not complain. Instead, he looked over the first few lines, scanning the organization.

“Silver Rose,” he repeated. “Airship port. Ask after her dock information. Meet Silva out front with the wagon and horse. Crates should be organized by genre, and we check the shipment against the list before loading.” He folded the list carefully enough that it would not crease badly or tear, then tucked it where he could reach it easily. “That all sounds clear to me.”

Cal took one last sip of coffee, then set the cup down. He took one cookie, hesitated, then took a second with a faintly apologetic look.

“For the road,” he said, as if this needed explaining. Then he gave Simone a respectful nod and glanced to Lewis. “I’ll do my best not to let the books, the children, or the doorway traps defeat me before the day is done.”

Simone wasn't surprised by his reaction to their children. She even giggled a bit. “They are all loved and all taken care of. We find most of our children or they find us. We do have our own biological like baby Cantrell here but there's only six of them.” She offered a warm smile.

“Trust me, after our adventures an airship full of merchandise is the most normal thing we have,” Simone chuckled. “We have friends in high places that make all of this possible.”

Lewis was watching Cantrell stand on his legs with some help while Simone was away. “Believe me, try getting a household full of kids ready in the morning for school. It's chaos. Though most of the kids are older now.” Even with his monotone voice it was clear he was sad about it.

Lewis shrugged a bit before responding, “As the Weaver Angela says the world takes all sorts of people. Even the damned. It's what the damned do in their gained power that determines where they sit with the gods. If they have power and they continue to do misdeeds they are punished, but if they take that fortune and do good then they are forgiven. Mortals are unpredictable but we're not given the same lot in life. Simone is a Blueblood but I'm not but here we are. Like we said we have friends in high places. Angela doesn't often speak of her deity responsibilities but when she does we listen. After all she saved Simone when we made a mistake.” Most of this was coming from Simone since Lewis rarely spoke but Cal didn't need to know that. He seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders and that meant that Lewis and Simone felt like they could trust the man a little.

Simone handed Cal the list and chuckled when she watched him read it and repeat his instructions. “Please take as many as you want. We're not lacking in anything we promise. Make sure to stop and rest when you need to. We would hate for you to overwork yourself in this summer heat. Also we instructed Snowball to find you when he's done so don't be alarmed if a bird lands on you. He'll make sure you find your way.”

Outside waiting for him was Silva who climbed off the wagon and patted the horse. “He's trained very well and will pull a lot of weight young master Cal. Just make sure to water him when you can.”

On his way to the airship docks a tiny white tit floated down and landed on his shoulder. A confident chirp left his beak.

The airship was docked on the fifth dock. Snowball let Cal ask the desk about it but then he led the young man all the way there. Docked was an airship with Silver Rose written on the side of it.

A four foot nine inch woman bounded over to them once she spotted Snowball. She had long brown curls. “You must be the help! Snowball let us know you were coming.” The tiny bird saluted and landed on Cal’s shoulder. “My husband and I can show you where the cargo is. My name is Rosemary and my husband is Aelous.”

Aelous was up on deck. He had shoulder length silver hair and he was much taller than his wife. The cargo was all over the deck and inside of the small airship. “They really packed this place,” the man laughed a bit. “Don't mind the mess.”

Cal had learned, in a very short span of time, that the Terrowins were not the sort of people a man understood all at once. Twenty-eight children, gods and Weavers, bluebloods and street rats, phoenixes and bookstores. Every few sentences seemed to open some new door into a life far larger and stranger than his own. Still, beneath all of it, Cal thought he understood the important part well enough. They helped people because someone had helped them. That was a rare enough thing.

“I’ll take care not to overdo it,” Cal promised Simone, though the words came with the faint look of a man who was very used to overdoing it. “And I’ll keep an eye out for Snowball.” He glanced toward Lewis and Cantrell before leaving, giving the baby a small nod as if the child were some tiny lord overseeing the whole business. “Master Cantrell,” he said solemnly. “I’ll see your books safely delivered.”

Outside, he greeted Silva with the same polite respect he had shown the Terrowins. “Thank you, Miss Silva.” He gave the horse a careful look, then stepped closer and held out a hand for the animal to smell before patting its neck. “And I’ll make sure he gets watered. A wagon’s only as good as the beast pulling it, and a beast only works well when he’s cared for.”

The ride toward the airship docks gave Cal time to think, though not as much as he might have liked before the tiny white bird drifted down and landed neatly on his shoulder. Cal froze. Only his eyes moved, sliding toward Snowball perched beside his head.

“Well,” he said after a beat, “I was warned.” The confident chirp earned the bird a small, reluctant smile. “Lead on, then.”

By the time Cal reached the fifth dock and saw the Silver Rose, he had folded away any lingering nerves and settled into the work ahead. The airship was a fine sight, and he allowed himself one moment to admire it before Rosemary bounded over to greet him.

“Yes, ma’am,” Cal said, offering a respectful nod. “Cal Rook. Simone Terrowin hired me to help move the shipment to Beatrice Books.” Snowball’s salute made Cal glance at him again. “I see you’ve already got the chain of command sorted.”

He followed Rosemary toward the cargo, then looked up as Aelous spoke from the deck. The sight of the crates spread across the deck and tucked into the ship drew a low breath from him. It was not complaint, exactly. More like a man measuring the size of the task in front of him.

“They did pack it well,” Cal agreed. “Or at least they packed it thoroughly.” He pulled Simone’s list free and unfolded it, taking a moment to scan the first section again before looking over the cargo. “Lady Terrowin said the crates should be organized by genre. Before I start loading, I’d like to check the labels against the list, if that’s agreeable. Anything fragile, rare, or meant to stay upright should go aside first. Heavier crates on the wagon floor, lighter ones stacked above, and nothing that can’t bear weight underneath something that can.”

He glanced between Rosemary and Aelous. “If either of you knows which crates were loaded last, those may be easiest to pull first. Otherwise, I’ll start nearest the gangway and work inward. Slow enough not to break anything, fast enough not to waste your day.” Cal rolled his shoulders once, then set the list carefully on the nearest clear surface where he could reference it. “And if Snowball here outranks me, I’ll take corrections from him as needed.”

“Oh, we know Lewis and Simone well,” Rosemary answered easily. “We met them before they were married, actually.”

“Well,” Aeolus thought about it. “The ones on deck were loaded last. The rarer books were stored inside. Raile said Simone spent three years curating these books for a shop.”

Rosemary laughed in response, “Sounds like something Simone would do. She’s honestly amazing. At one point, she had ten children under five. That magic that Lewis and Simone have allows them to always be in communication, so they cut out a lot of middlemen when it comes to raising children. And with Lewis retired now… Well, they certainly have the time for all this.”

Rosemary disappeared after a bit and came back up with some iced tea, offering it up to Cal once he had been working for a bit. “They won’t mind if you have a small break. Lewis used to be a famous assassin, so he’s used to having patience, which extends to Simone.”

Snowball chirped a bit and settled in for the long haul. “Snowball is actually Lewis’s familiar. All famous assassins have them.” Rosemary added on and patted the bird softly on the head. “Lewis says Snowball has a filthy mouth. He’s one of the only people who can understand him.”

Cal started with the crates on deck. If those had been loaded last, then they were easiest to move first, and that suited him well enough. He checked each label against Simone’s list before loading it, making small marks beside the ones he confirmed. He kept the heavier crates low in the wagon, braced tight against one another so they would not shift during the ride, and set aside anything that looked delicate or poorly balanced until he could give it better attention. It was hard work, but honest work. That made it easier.

“Three years,” Cal repeated after Aelous mentioned how long Simone had spent gathering the collection. He looked down at the list again, then over the crates with a new measure of respect. “Then I’ll be careful. A man drops one crate, and he’s not just damaging books. He’s damaging three years of someone’s life.”

That was the sort of thing Cal understood. Not books, necessarily, but effort. Time. Something built piece by piece because it mattered. He worked steadily after that, stopping only when Rosemary returned with iced tea. Cal looked surprised by the offer, then grateful.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He accepted the glass and stepped aside where he would not be in anyone’s way. The first drink was careful. The second was less so. The summer heat had settled on his shoulders and back, and the cold tea felt like a small miracle. “I appreciate it,” he said, glancing toward the cargo. “I’ll not take long.”

Then Rosemary mentioned Lewis being a famous assassin. Cal lowered the glass slightly. He had suspected something like that. Or something adjacent to that. Men did not usually arrive in phoenix fire, look at strangers the way Lewis had looked at him, and know names they had not been told without having some sort of sharp history behind them. Still, hearing it stated so plainly was another matter.

“A famous assassin,” Cal said. He looked toward Snowball, who had settled in as if supervising the whole operation. “And this is his familiar.” Snowball chirped. Cal stared at the little white bird for a moment, then gave him a slow, solemn nod. “Well,” he said, “that explains the attitude.” The bird chirped again, and Cal’s expression shifted with the faintest hint of suspicion. “I’m going to assume that was encouragement.” He took another sip of iced tea, then glanced back to Rosemary. “I’ve met a good many people who had mouths worse than their manners. Can’t say I expected one of them to be a bird.”

There was humor in it, quiet but real. Cal was beginning to relax, just a little, though he still kept his posture respectful. These were Simone and Lewis’s friends, and that meant they deserved the same courtesy. He looked back toward the inside of the airship, where the rarer books waited.

“If the rare ones are stored below, I’ll save room and padding for them. Last thing loaded means first thing unloaded, unless Lady Terrowin wants them handled separate. If there are covers, spare cloth, rope, anything to keep them from knocking about, I’ll use it.” Cal finished the tea and handed the glass back with another grateful nod. “Thank you again. Truly.”

Then he rolled his shoulders, checked the list once more, and returned to the work. “Come on then, Master Snowball,” he said, glancing to the bird. “Let’s see if we can make your master and mistress look wise for hiring me.”