Page 18 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones
Sass noticed Thrain cut her a furtive glance. “We don’t have castles in the Ice Lands. At least, not ones above ground. I’d love a tour.”
“We could give you one now,” Korl said.
Now Sass did turn to Thrain. “What are you?—?”
“Nothing to worry yourself over,” he said, waving off her concern.
“We’ll take good care of him,” Val called to Sass as she munched on her crumpet.
Sass bit back the protests that were on the tip of her tongue., turning her attention back to the curtains. Thrain was up to something, she could feel it in her bones.
“You mind if I ask you what the deal is with the fancynecklace?” Val asked Thrain as they reached the door and Korl held it open.
“Amulet,” Thrain corrected before Sass could stop him. “It was a gift from Sass’s fiancée.”
Sass froze, all thoughts of what Thrain might be up to fleeing her mind, as she held her breath.
“Fiancée?” The confusion in the woman’s voice was unmistakable.
“Well, former fiancée, I suppose. Sass ran out on the wedding and didn’t stop running until she ended up here.”
Sass cringed, unable to look over her shoulder at Val. She closed her eyes and waited for more questions from the guard. But none came.
When she opened her eyes, the woman was gone.
Twelve
Sass tuckedthe amulet firmly back under her mattress where it couldn't cause any more trouble, but she lingered in her room. She couldn’t bear to go back downstairs and face all the questions, all the curious looks. Not yet, at least. Instead, she clambered out her bedroom window and onto the roof, the rough thatch beneath her palms damp with the morning's dew, though the midday sun was doing its best to burn it away.
The first time she’d found Lira sitting on the roof, she’d been baffled, but now she understood it. From her perch, she could see the whole of the village spread before her. Whitewashed buildings pressed together as if for warmth, smoke twirled lazily from chimneys, and the chatter of daily life drifted up to her. Voices called out, cart wheels creaked along the dirt road, and horses snuffled and whinnied.
Sass caught the whiff of Pip’s bakery on the breeze, her stomach responding with the barest rumble, though it was more memory than hunger. She'd eaten her fill of Lira's crumpets, but there was something about the smell of baking bread that made her mouth water.
Across the stream, the rhythmic splash of the waterwheelbeside the blacksmith and wheelwright shop melded with the clang of hammer on anvil. Sass was all too familiar with the sound of striking metal. Those sounds had echoed beneath the mountains in the Ice Lands, but here she didn’t shiver from the cold or squint through darkness.
Here, the sounds felt warm. They felt like belonging.
The clip-clop of horses' hooves on the dirt road drew her attention to the main thoroughfare, where a merchant's wagon ambled toward the market square. The driver bellowed a greeting to someone Sass couldn't see, and the easy familiarity of it made her heart squeeze.
She wrenched her knees to her chest and circled her arms around them, her dark plait falling over one shoulder. The Ice Lands had never felt like home, not really. It had been the place she was born, the place where her family's expectations had weighed on her like stone.
But Sass had wanted a different life.
She'd wanted to feel sunlight on her face and breathe air that didn't smell of rock dust and forge fires. She'd wanted to meet people who didn't know her family name, who didn't have expectations about what she should be based on her lineage, who would like her just for her.
She’d found that in Wayside. She’d found a place where she could make a difference and found people who knew nothing about her past. People who’d become her family. People who’d become home.
And now she might lose it all.
The thought of the amulet twisted her stomach into a hard ball of dread. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry. It was a link to her past, a chain that could drag her back to the Ice Lands whether or not she wanted to go.
She pressed her face against her knees, breathing in the scent of her own wool skirt and the lingering smell of the tavern's hearth smoke that clung to her clothes. Would she have to run again?Would she have to pack her few belongings in the dead of night and slip away before dawn, leaving nothing but a cold bed and unanswered questions? The thought of Lira coming to the tavern to find her gone made her throat burn with unshed tears.
Or worse—would she have to return to the Ice Lands? If the political situation was as tenuous as Thrain said, if her refusing to return could somehow bring retribution onto her family. . .
"You know," said a familiar voice from behind her, “you’re sitting in my spot.”
Sass didn't turn around, but she felt her lips curve in the first genuine smile she'd managed in a while. "Your spot?"
