“Will, I’m not interested in porting to France for a snack.” Zani felt a bit like she was taking a toy away from a puppy. “I’m fine getting something locally. How about we head down the street to the Squeaky Wheel?”
“Fine.” Will toyed with the tin of candies, turning it over in his hands before slipping it into a pocket. “I suppose France can wait. The Squeaky Wheel will have to do for now.”
When we choose fear over trust, doubt over conviction, isolation over community? That’s when untethering begins. A porter understands this truth with every step through the void. We navigate by heart, and have faith in the path ahead, knowing that connections are what create the very ground we walk upon.
“The Weight of the World” isn’t a burden. It’s an anchor that grounds us all. Without it, we’d all drift off alone, without ever manifesting the world that’s meant to be.”
BURNSIDE PORTER,THE WAY OF THE LEY
Chapter14
The Squeaky Wheel
Although Will was disappointed that Zani had turned down his offer to take her to France, it was probably for the best that they were headed to the Squeaky Wheel. He was only just back from his early morning trip to London. He could have rallied. He was in fine shape. Two round trips to the continent in twenty-four hours was a perfectly reasonable ask for a porter of his age and skill. But he was still leery about porting with passengers.
The interior of the Squeaky Wheel was quiet, since most of the townsfolk were attending the town hall meeting. Minerva had left the shop in the capable hands of her employees Francoise and Derek, a kindly mouse shifter couple who were just as passionate about cheese as she was.
The shop was small but homey. The first thing you noticed when walking in was the well lit refrigerated room at the back. This was the heart of the fromagerie. Separated from the rest of the shop by floor to ceiling glass windows, it served as both showcase and storage. It was a wonderland of cheese, in every shape, size, color, and flavor. A rainbow-colored stack of wax packaged bricks lined one rack, while giant wheels with uniquely textured rinds were stacked on deep shelves. Still more cheese hung in cloth and mesh bags, suspended from hooks in the ceiling. There was even a small loft, accessible by ladder. This was where the rarest cheeses were kept.
In the center of the shop, a round refrigerated case, separated into sections like a wagon wheel, held a daily selection of precut and packaged cheeses. A deep basket at the center held fresh, crusty baguettes. Smaller baskets scattered amongst the cheeses held other gourmet sides and fixings. Shoppers were tempted with summer sausages, jams and preserves, capers, and tins of smoked fish. There were also crackers and olives, roasted nuts, and local honey with wildflowers.
There was no better place to find things to stuff your picnic basket. But today they’d be dining in.
“We just got in a rather nutty Comte.” Francoise, the paler and more diminutive of the two hosts, escorted Zani and Will to a booth in a mousehole-shaped niche on the far side of the fromagerie. When he tugged aside the lace curtains, it revealed a small, cozy, private nook, with a round bistro table fitted into a banquette. The table was painted to resemble a wheel of brie and the scattered cushions were cleverly fashioned to resemble wedges of swiss and blocks of cheddar cheese.
“Have you dined with us before?” Francoise gestured to the table where a prix fixe menu was tucked under two glass condiment pots. One of the pots held honey with a chunk of the comb. The other contained some sort of a fruity jam. The menu was a simple handwritten list of today’s sweet and savory sandwiches and a curated selection of cheeseboard items.
“I have had the pleasure.” Will sighed happily. “But I’m not sure Zani’s had a chance to visit yet, have you?”
“It’s my first time.” Zani ducked into the tiny booth.
“Well, then. Welcome! Bon Appetit! As you can see, we have a prix fixe menu.” Franciose reached to pull a tiny notebook from his apron pocket. “But I can take your order for your choice of tea.”
“I’ll have earl gray, please.” Zani said.
“Darjeeling for me. Thank you,” Will added.
“Very good. It will just be a few minutes while we get your cheese feast ready.” Francoise placed the notebook back in his pocket. His hand emerged with an ornately tooled brass handbell, which he placed gently on the table. “In the meantime, ring for us if you need anything.”
When the curtain dropped back in place, the two of them were alone again.
“It’s quite romantic here, isn’t it?” Zani asked, passing a quick finger through the flickering tea light on the table. “I have to admit—not quite what I expected from a cheese shop run by the town elders.”
Will felt a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Tell me what you discovered in the archives.” He changed the subject adeptly. “I didn’t realize you were so interested in ley lines.”
Ley lines were, of course, Will’s favorite subject. But he so rarely got to talk about them with anyone. Most people took them for granted, or dismissed them as boring. They didn’t want to know. But they didn’t realize what they were missing. Ley lines affectedeverything. More than just a map, they were what moved everyone and everything in the natural world, and possibly beyond. He was eager to have someone besides Burnside Porter with whom he could discuss his theories about this essential earth energy.
“I can’t fully explain why yet, but I think the bloodstone has something to do with them.” Zani let out her breath in a whoosh.
Will wilted as he realized Zani’s newfound interest in ley lines was actually secondary to her interest in that cursed stone. It was only a matter of time until she asked him to take her back to the train again so she could change history. Which he could never condone.
“Is that so?” Will’s response was a bit cagey. “What makes you think that?”
Zani wasn’t wrong. The bloodstone definitely had something to do with ley lines. Leyline energy flowed through every rock and stream, down every branch of every tree and through every bone of every body, whether magical or ordinary. Every natural thing on this earth had something to do with ley lines.
Nobody felt this more keenly than Will. His heightened sensibilities and ability to access earth energy were how he navigated the void. Even now, sitting in this booth, he could feel the sizzle of the ley lines buried deep in the earth beneath them. He felt where it connected with the tinier tendrils of his own energy. At the moment, he was especially aware of where the strands of his energy met up with and mixed with Zani’s, like fringe from two blankets, getting tangled in the wash.
“According to the textbook I was reading during the town hall meeting, there are certain gemstones that are rumored to have an effect on ley lines,” Zani said.
