Page 3 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones
Sass cleared her throat, which had become unexpectedly thick. “Go on with you.”
Lira looked to the flutterstoat. “It’s true, isn’t it, Crumpet?”
The flutterstoat bobbed his tiny head up and down and emitted a torrent of animated chittering.
Lira wiped her hands on her dough-smudged apron, looking very pleased with herself. “See? He agrees with me.”
Sass snorted and flapped a hand at the pair. She didn’t want to admit how much good it did her heart to hear that, but it was hard to ignore the warmth spreading in her chest. “Folks are happy with what we’vebothdone with The Tusk & Tail.”
“Which is due, in large part, to your hard work and eye for sprucing up even the dingiest places.” Lira swept her arms wide, and bits of flour flew into the air. “It wouldn’t matter what I served if folks had to eat it in a grimy, depressing hovel.”
Sass thought back to the state of the place when she’d arrived. Then she thought about the state she’d been in when she’d arrivedin Wayside—tired, hungry, desperate. Truth be told, she had been in little better shape than the gritty old tavern.
She shrugged off those memories, reluctant to dwell on the truth behind why she’d been so desperate, why she’d ended up in Wayside in the first place. “I suppose you’re right, but it was your idea to fix it up.”
“A bit of quick thinking so I’d have an excuse to stay and a place to bunk down.” Lira walked over and threw an arm around Sass’s shoulders, and then walked them both out of the kitchen so they could stand and observe the bustling great room.
A fire roared in the hearth at the far end of the room, casting a glow across the patrons filling the long wooden tables. Tankards thumped, forks clinked, and laughter bounced off the beamed ceiling. The sharp scent of peat smoke was softened by the savory aroma of meat pies and only the faintest hint of ash and spice that floated over from the Tiefling bartender.
Lira gave the dwarf’s shoulders a squeeze. “Not bad for a reformed rogue and a failed burglar.”
Sass groaned at the reminder of the night they’d met and at her bungled attempt at robbing the tavern’s till. “Not everyone can be an expert lock picker.”
The former rogue held out one hand and wiggled her fingers, which now kneaded dough instead of picking locks. “Still, my gut told me I could trust you, and my gut is rarely wrong.”
Sass’s own gut churned as she stood beside Lira and looked at so many of the villagers who’d become her friends. She should tell Lira the truth. She should have told her from the beginning, but with every day that passed it was harder and harder to admit why she was there. Therealreason. Now, so much time had passed it felt impossible.
Maybe it wouldn’t matter, she told herself for the hundredth time. Maybe her past would never catch up with her. Maybe she’d finally found a safe haven in Wayside.
The truth will always come out, Sarsaparilla.She could hearher mum’s voice as clear as day in her head.Just like a glittering jewel hidden beneath layers of stone, the truth will always reveal itself.
Sass hoped that, for once, her mum’s mining wisdom wouldn’t prove itself to be true.
Two
“Any chanceof getting some of those meat pies at the bar?”
Sass jumped and pressed a hand to her heart at the low, rumbling voice coming from behind them.
Lira was the first one to spin on her Tiefling friend and swat him with a dishrag. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Vaskel.”
Her former crew mate gave Lira a wolfish grin that Sass knew was more mischievous than truly wicked, despite his red skin and the pointed horns sweeping back from his forehead. “Do what?”
Lira huffed out a breath and granted him a reluctant smile. “Sneak up on people.”
Usually, he wouldn’t have been able to creep up on them without the faint scent of ash masked by sandalwood giving him away, but the tavern was such a cacophony of smells that it was hard to parse his distinctive aroma from the rest.
His icy blue eyes flashed more kindness than heat as he cast a look back at the polished wood bar. Patrons crowded the length, perching on stools or using the bar to prop themselves up, and Sass noticed more than one female eyeing the bartender who’d steppedaway. “Some of my customers could use some food to counteract the ale.”
“So you aren’t plying your fans with drink?”
The Tiefling cocked the dark slash of a brow with the scar running through it. “Are you implying I need to?”
Lira tapped one foot on the wood plank floor. “You know the rule we agreed to, Vask. No seducing the patrons.”
Sass wondered if it was considered seduction if the women were more eager than he was. It was hardly his fault that seduction was as natural to Tieflings as swinging an axe was to dwarves.
“I’ve seduced no one.”
