“Simone and Lewis are very…” Aeolus looked like he was struggling with the word. “Maybe it's more Simone. It’s hard to tell with those two but they want things done the right way so it takes them a while to do anything. Except for adopting kids they make split second decisions on that. Poor Xeik banned them from most orphanages because they kept bringing them home. They’ve slowed down recently but I think it's more like the opportunity hasn’t shown itself. They are great people though, now at least. Wasn’t always like that.”

“I wouldn’t even worry about it. They won’t,” Rosemary said with a smile. “Make yourself at home while you are in our home. The Terrowins would say the same thing.” Once Cal heard about Lewis Rosemary nodded. “He was really famous and then he retired and most people think he’s lost his edge but I can tell you he hasn’t. They decided it to spend more time with the children. Everything always revolves around them, for them, or about them. So when we hear that one of them needs help doing something for themselves… Well we jump to all help.”

Snowball tweeted and was most impressed with young Cal. Rosemary took the glass back and nodded. “No problem, if you need anything else just ask. We’d rather help a friend of a friend. Once you are on those two’s good sides you’ve gained a good set of friends. It’s one of the traits they gained when they became phoenixes. Though that’s more their tale to tell.” Rosemary was ready to tell Cal all about the romantic story of Lewis and Simone but she felt it was better for them to say anything.

“Though I still think the most hysterical thing about those two is that they’ve gained avian traits in their personalities.” Aeolus said easily. “And because they both haven’t been phoenixes for more than ten years they are always finding out new things about themselves. Simone was made into one before Lewis was and so they went in blind about it all once they were both phoenixes.”

Snowball stuck with Cal while he continued to work. Once he had the first load secured they rode back to the shop and a horrific noise was playing from inside the shop. It sounded like nails on a chalk board with good notes every once in a while. The windows looked like they were enchanted from the way they were glowing surely so the windows wouldn’t break.

“And that was LeMinas’s twenty third symphony The Stars Aglow,” a little voice spoke up as Cal would enter the building. On a makeshift small stage was a small little girl with long black and white hair. She had a violin.

Simone and Lewis were making their best faces was even they were strained. “Oh baby you did so well…” Simone clapped a bit.

The little girl turned around to see Cal and gave him a smile. “I did, didn’t I? Mr. Krantz says I’m getting better every day and the notes are starting to taste really good now.”

“Well, he is right you are getting better,” Lewis got up and hoisted the girl up onto his shoulder. She let out a squeal and relaxed. “Welcome back Cal.”

“Hi! I’m Camille!” The little girl yelled at Cal.

“We were just having an impromptu music concert since Camille just got done with her lessons,” Simone gave Cal a sorry expression when the child wasn’t looking at her.

“Is he the one moving all the books into their homes?” Camille got excited once more.

Simone held Cantrell to her hip and shook her head. “We’re going to help him do that once they are all here. He’s going to bring the crates into the store.”

“Oh,” Camille said before looking Cal over. “Is it a lot of work?”

“It is but Cal has been doing a fine job. He’s working very hard.”

“Oh,” Camille said again. “Okay, well Mr. Cal I hope you keep up the hard work!”

Cal heard the music before he saw the shop. For one brief, terrible moment, he thought something had gone wrong. The sound coming from Beatrice Books was sharp enough to make the horse flick its ears, and Cal looked toward the glowing windows with genuine concern. It had the feeling of a spell gone sideways, or perhaps one of the doorway pranks Simone had warned him about escalating into a full assault on the senses. Then came the announcement of a symphony. Cal stopped beside the wagon.

“Well,” he said quietly to Snowball, “that explains the windows.”

He made sure the wagon was secure before stepping inside, and by then Simone and Lewis were doing their best to praise the young musician. Cal respected that. Deeply. He had seen grown men face steel with less strain in their expressions. When Lewis welcomed him back, Cal gave a respectful nod.

“Thank you, sir.” Then he turned his attention to Camille and gave her a solemn bow, as if she were a proper musician receiving a guest after a performance. “Miss Camille,” he said. “A pleasure.” He chose his next words with great care. “That sounded like very difficult music.”

It was, he felt, the safest honest thing to say. When Simone explained that the crates would be brought into the shop first and arranged later, Cal nodded and unfolded the long list she had given him.

“First load is here. Mostly the crates that were kept on deck. I checked them against the list before loading, and they’re secured outside now. I can bring them in wherever you’d like them staged.” He paused, then glanced down at the list again. “There was one thing I thought I should mention before I went back for the second load.”

His tone stayed calm, but it had shifted into something more focused. “One crate on the Silver Rose didn’t seem to match the rest. It was with the more common stock, but the label looked newer than the crate. Marked as children’s stories, but it was heavier than I expected for the size, and the wood was older. Different nails too.”

Cal looked to Simone first. This was her shop and her shipment. “Might be nothing. Could just be packed tight, or maybe someone reused an old crate. But with a shipment this large, and books that took three years to gather, I didn’t want to load it without saying something.” He glanced briefly toward Lewis.

“I left it where it was for now. Figured it was better to risk being cautious than risk bringing in something that didn’t belong.” Snowball chirped from nearby, and Cal looked toward the little white bird. “And for the record,” Cal added, “if he was offering an opinion on it, I did not understand the words, but I understood the tone.” He folded the list carefully again. “I can unload this wagon first, then take one of you back to look at it before I move the rarer stock. Or I can bring it here separate and set it aside for inspection. Your call.”