Page 1 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones
One
Sass wipedthe back of a hand across her forehead as she pushed through the swinging doors into the tavern’s kitchen. “Grognick’s beard, it’s boiling in here.”
Lira glanced up from pulling a tray of golden-brown, crescent-shaped pastries from the oven and grinned at the dwarf. “Well, I have been cranking out meat pies since the dinner rush started.”
“And the rush is nowhere near done.” Sass tossed her long, dark braid off her shoulder and leaned gratefully against the wooden table in the center of the room as she drew in a ragged breath. Her feet ached and begged for her to sit, but she knew that would only make it impossible to heave herself up again, and since she was the only server they had, resting wasn’t an option.
“I think this is called beware of what you wish for,” Lira said, as she blew an errant strand of auburn hair from her eyes. “We wanted The Tusk & Tail to be busy again.”
Lira was right, of course. This was what they’d wished for, although Sass sometimes thought they might have wishedtoohard.
When she and Lira had first laid eyes on the tavern, the building had been entombed in cobwebs and grime, and the odor of decay had run roughshod over the place. The kitchen had beendank and cold, with teetering stacks of pots and pans festering on the counters and threatening constant collapse.
Sass took in the copper pots dangling gleaming proudly overhead and the new cast-iron stove that hummed along without belching smoke. “I remember when our ornery old oven either burned food or refused to heat.”
“And don’t forget that the place smelled of dead troll.”
Sass wrinkled her nose. “How could I forget?”
Now the air was laden with the promise of buttery pastry and braised meat, which was a welcome change.
Even as she took in the warm, inviting kitchen, Sass sighed. “Would it be wrong to admit that I sometimes miss the days when we had no business?”
The half-elf cook straightened and slid the baking pan onto the table, dropping the orange knitted potholders beside it. “After all our work to spruce up The Tusk & Tail and attract a devoted clientele?”
Sass dabbed at the beads of sweat that clung to her hairline. “We might have spruced too well.” The dwarf jerked a thumb toward the great room. “The place is packed, and I’ve got enough orders for your meat pies to keep you elbow deep in pastry all night.”
Lira’s long hair was pulled up in a high ponytail with curly wisps escaping from the nape of her neck. Her slightly pointed ears were exposed, a sign that she wasn’t as hesitant to reveal her elvish lineage anymore. She tightened the tail of hair with a tug and cut a glance to the white, winged stoat perched on the windowsill. “Did you hear that, Crumpet? No more scraps for you tonight.”
Crumpet wiggled his whiskers, his inky eyes darting to the pastries and then to Lira. He chattered indignantly.
“Crumpet says he liked it when it wasn’t so busy, either.” Sass shoved up the puffy sleeves of her blouse. “Isn’t that right, Crump?”
Lira’s twitch of the lips slid all the way to a smile. “First, youhated the idea of Crumpet staying here, and now you’re his translator?”
Sass sniffed. “I’m not one to get on the wrong side of an enchanted wee beastie.” She thought about how much the flutterstoat had become part of their tavern family and how tough he’d proven himself to be. “Besides, Crumpet is the bravest little guy I know.”
Lira reached over and scruffed the fur on the top of his head. “That he is—and an excellent judge of baked goods.”
Sass put a hand to her belly. “Speaking of food, I haven’t eaten a bite since breakfast.”
“Speaking of breakfast, those lemon sweet rolls didn’t last long.”
Sass ignored the obvious reference to how many of the yeasty, gooey rolls she’d eaten. “See? That’s the problem with Pip’s pastries; they don’t keep well.”
Lira’s brows lifted. “As if we’d have any way of knowing that.”
Sass paid no mind to that comment either. It wasn’t her fault that the village’s halfling baker created pastries so delicious that they never lasted much longer than the brief walk from his bakery to the tavern.
Lira plucked a small, blistered crumb from one of the meat pies and handed it to Crumpet. “I would offer you a leftover scone, but there are none left.”
Sass eyed the crumb in the flutterstoat’s paws longingly. “I’m also rethinking my afternoon scone break idea.”
Lira slid the hand pies onto a pewter tray with quick hands. “Because it’s been so successful that there are no extra scones for us?”
Sass gave her friend a side-eye glance. “I suppose I have no one to blame for this but myself and perhaps your baking.”
Crumpet chittered as he daintily wiped his paws, unfurled his wings, and flew to the copper pots hanging above.
