Page 14 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
The deep voice was soft and steady, nothing like Lira would haveexpected from such a large creature. She tipped her head back. Correction, a large orc wearing the armor of a guardsman. His dark eyes held hers even as he released his grip on her arms.
“It’s not your fault,” Lira said, her breath suddenly quick. “I didn’t look before I turned.”
He didn’t reply, but he didn’t look away either. As Lira stared at the orc who was surprisingly handsome, a flicker of recognition tickled the recesses of her brain. Had she encountered him in one of her quests? She didn’t remember a hot orc guardsman being stationed in the village when she’d lived there, and she felt sure she would have rememberedhim.
“Have you newly arrived in Wayside?” he asked, his black eyes never leaving hers for an instant.
Lira bobbed her head, wondering how much she should tell him. If he was asking in his role as guardsman, she didn’t want to appear suspicious. “I’m helping out at The Tusk & Tail.”
This prompted a quiver of his dark brows, but he made no comment. He only grunted and stepped aside as another guardsman, this one a tall woman with gold hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, strode across the street toward him.
Lira cast a final glance at the orc, whose gaze still lingered on her, before ducking through the door to the apothecary, the bell overhead tinkling to announce her arrival. She stepped inside the dimly lit shop as her racing pulse steadied itself and her eyes adjusted to the dim interior.
How had the guardsman unsettled her so profoundly by only uttering a handful of words? Maybe that was why he’d affected her so. His penetrating gaze had done the job of an entire conversation and had left her heart pounding and her mouth dry.
Lira gave herself a mental shake. Getting rattled was not something a rogue could afford. Then she drew in a breath and was quickly grounded by the familiarity of the quiet shop.
A single sconce flickered by the door and illuminated the dark wood shelves lining the walls, the compartments holding black-glassbottles with elegantly calligraphed paper labels boasting their contents: worm wort, bone powder, newt eyes, belladonna. While the bakery had teemed with the aroma of yeast and sugar, warmth spilling from its doors, this shop was hushed and cool and smelled of a thousand different oils and potions all melded together. The cacophony of scents should have been an assault on her nose, but instead it was as comforting as a warm blanket hugging her shoulders.
The jingle of the bell drifted into silence as the door closed behind her. Lira’s gaze fell on the olive-skinned woman behind the counter. Her black hair was shot through with silver strands that glinted in the candlelight and her green eyes were as shrewd as they’d ever been.
“Hello, Iris.”
Eight
Iris Kettlewick raisedher head and stopped twirling a strand of hair around her finger, before sliding a pair of half-moon spectacles down her long nose and scrutinizing Lira over them for a beat. Then her face cracked into a smile. “Lira!”
The woman hurried around the counter, her voluminous patchwork skirt billowing around her legs. She pulled Lira into a hug, the scent of herbs and fragrant oils a pungent cloud that clung to her like always. The aroma slammed into Lira, transporting her right back to being a young girl visiting Iris's dark and mysterious shop. She breathed in the memories and sank into the embrace.
But the apothecary released Lira as briskly as she’d snatched herinto her arms, her smile slipping as she inventoried her at arm’s length. “You’ve fared well then, love?”
Lira produced her own smile, even if it felt tight. “Still alive.”
Iris snorted as she put her hands on her hips. “I suppose that’s the important thing.” The woman whipped around, her skirt following a beat behind as she returned to her counter and waved for Lira to follow. “Are you here for a visit or back for good?”
Lira didn’t know how to answer that. When she’d set out for Wayside after wandering aimlessly for months, she hadn’t thought about how long she’d stay or if there was even anything left for her in the village. She’d returned because it had once felt safe, it had once been home. But really, she hadn’t thought before she’d started walking, her feet leading her back as if pulled by an unseen force.
She thought about what was buried under the tavern. Maybe that last part was true.
“I don’t know,” she finally answered, resting her hands on the polished counter.
Iris made a knowing sound in the back of her throat. “You’re not with your companions any longer?”
Lira gave a curt shake of her head, hoping the woman would leave it at that.
She did.
“Well, then.” Iris pushed her spectacles to the top of her head, tamping down some of her unruly curls and exposing more of the silver. “I suppose this calls for tea.”
She nudged aside thick brown curtains covering a doorway, holding one side up just high enough for a person to slip through. “Come on, then. You know where I keep the goodies.”
Lira didn’t need to be told twice. It felt like no time had passed since Iris had first invited her into the shop’s back room, but she felt just as special slipping through the curtains this time as she had when she was a girl.
Ducking her head, she passed under Iris's arm and straightened on the other side, her breath instinctively catching. Here the scent ofpotions was faint, replaced by the smells of old paper and crumbling leather from the hundreds of books that lined the walls and reached to the ceiling. A large, round table dominated the middle of the room, the surface cluttered with open books, empty teacups, and plates that held nothing but crumbs.
Iris stopped short when she followed Lira, resting one hand on her hip as she shook a finger in the air. “Who ate the last of my breakfast?”
Lira held her breath, her gaze sweeping the back room that was as large as the front one. A pair of overstuffed, brocade chairs hunched in the far corner, angled toward a side table that was also a jumble of books. In the other corner was a towering, gilded cage with a curved top and multiple swinging perches inside, all of them empty. Above them, a pair of skylights let in sunbeams that bounced off the gold-embossed spines of the books.
