Page 39 of As You Wake, Break the Shell

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Otto said wistfully, resting his head against the back of his chair. “It was magnificent. Kissing your someone as you fly through the shadow of a moon? Nothing quite like it.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Signy said. She meant it, but mention of spaceflight and moons nudged her thoughts elsewhere. “This is a tangent, but—”

“Since when do we need a clean segue?” he said.

“Fair enough,” she replied. “Have you . . .” She traced her finger around the edge of her mug. “Have you ever seen a rorqual?”

“What, in person?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” Otto said, shaking his head. “Well . . . ish. I saw one from a distance when I was on a school flight as a kid. But it was so far off, it was just a . . . y’know, a blob. Neat to know it was out there, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Not that it has either of those things, I suppose.”

Signy decided that perhaps she did have room for a cookie. “I’m going up to the stables,” she said, reaching for the tin. “Or, at least, that’s the plan.”

“What? Why?”

“You know that new customer I mentioned?”

“The one who needs a sneaky plant?”

“Mm.” Signy didn’t see the harm in detailing this part, not if she was going to have to put her name on paperwork about it. “She’s a quarry runner, and she’s going to take me to see her rorqual.”

Otto’s bushy eyebrows climbed his forehead. “You’re kidding.”

“That was the deal,” Signy said. She took a sesame snap. Peppermint wafers were not to her taste.

The old man gave a low whistle. “Hot damn,” he said. “That’ll be something.”

“I have no idea what to expect,” Signy said, lounging back into the couch. “I know they’re big, and I’ve seen videos, but . . . I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.”

For no reason Signy could guess at, Otto was now peering at her. He rested his elbow on his chair and set his chin on his fist. “Is this customer the woman I saw hanging out in front of the shop a few days ago?”

“I have no idea who you saw hanging out in front of the shop.”

“Average height. Built sort of . . . fit. Athletic.” The pause he gave was anything but accidental. “Hard to say, since she was masked, but . . . maybe about your age?”

Oh, for the love of god. Signy rolled her eyes to the moons and back. “About,” she answered dispassionately.

“Well. Isn’t that interesting.”

This was not the first time Otto had dragged an unrelated conversation around to Signy’s love life. She was sure it would not be the last. “As I just said, she’s a customer. I don’t know her.”

The old man’s eyes glittered. “Would you like to?”

“She’s a customer. So, no.”

“What’s her name?”

Signy sighed. “Cora,” she said. There was no harm in that, not with Otto. He was a snoop, not a gossip, and she did actually trust the man. Besides which, chances were that the next time he saw Cora in the street, he’d come hobbling down to the shop as fast as he could in order to accidentally bump into her. He’d get her name then anyway.

“Cora,” he repeated with a smile. “Pretty.”

“Otto.” Signy flashed him a withering look. “She’s taking me to the stables because that’s what I requested as payment. This isn’t a date.”

“Would you like it to be?”

Signy regretted inadvertently bringing them down this path. “I am fine as I am right now.”