Page 39 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones
They’d barely made it to the shops when Pip spotted them and began waving enthusiastically from behind his festival table. The baker was practically bouncing with excitement, his dough-smudged apron tied tight around his middle as he gestured for them to come over.
“Bless the stars!” he cried. “I hoped you’d visit before I got too busy. I have a new creation you must try.”
Sass needed no more convincing than that. She recognized the baskets of pumpkin cinnamon sweet rolls he'd been perfecting, the golden glaze as shiny as glass. But the tray next to them held something new. The brown, bumpy cookies didn’t look as decadent as his rolls, but they smelled divine.
Sass leaned down and breathed in the sweet aroma surrounding them. “Hells and cinders, they smell good!”
Pip's eyes twinkled with pride as he leaned forward conspiratorially. “Brown butter pumpkin cookies with a dash of oats,” he whispered, cupping his hand around his mouth as if sharing heavily guarded secrets. “They taste even better than they smell.”
Sass felt her enthusiasm falter slightly at the mention of oats. In the Ice Lands, oats were not prized for cooking. Beside her, Thrain wrinkled his large nose.
"Oats?" Thrain’s question carried the tone of someone who'd just been offered gruel for dinner.
"Trust me," Pip said. "Just try one. I guarantee you'll change your mind about oats forever."
Despite their reservations, they each accepted a cookie from Pip's outstretched hands. The moment Sass bit into hers, she couldn't suppress the moan of pure pleasure that escaped her lips. It was crispy on the outside with a tender, chewy center that melted on her tongue. She didn’t even mind the oats. Hells, she was so busy savoring the buttery sweetness, she’d forgotten all about them.
Thrain's expression of skepticism melted into one of blissful surrender as he chewed. “Grognick’s beard,” he mumbled through his mouthful, "this is incredible. How do you make oats taste like this?"
“Elmshire secrets.” Pip puffed out his chest with pride. "Though I will say that browning the butter makes all the difference."
Sass immediately purchased a bag of the cookies to share with Lira and Vaskel, but she and Thrain had almost devoured their pumpkin sweet rolls before they walked away.
They continued their stroll through the festival, waving to Fenni who was deep in animated conversation with the sprite beekeeper at their shared table. The tiny, winged woman kept fluttering her gossamer wings and levitating above the cheese and honey display, which was probably why the halfling had one hand on her foot.
Durn nodded at Sass as he stood beside his wife outside theirchandler shop, their table filled with candles carved to look like apples and pumpkins. Even the potter, who rarely emerged from his store, had set up a large basin for apple bobbing with a line curving past the tinker shop that was now Korl’s.
Even though she knew the orc was not planning on having a display, Sass couldn’t help glancing at the darkened storefront, hoping to see Val inside with Korl. But neither guard was there, and Sass looked toward the market stalls hoping to glimpse the blonde head above the rest of the crowd.
One good thing about Val—she was usually easy to spot. But Sass didn’t see her anywhere.
Tinpin had positioned himself strategically near the village center, handing out streamers on wooden sticks in brilliant shades of orange and gold for children to wave. He’d donned a vest of emerald velvet over a shirt of burnished copper, with a cravat that seemed to shift color from amber to rust in the changing light.
"Thrain!" Tin called out as they passed. "You look splendid, absolutely splendid."
Thrain grunted, unable to respond with a mouth full of sticky sweet roll, but Sass gave the haberdasher a thumbs up
“You can’t tell him you feel like a walking pumpkin,” Sass said from one side of her mouth. “He’ll be devastated.”
“How do you think the walking pumpkin feels?” Thrain muttered in response but threw a wave to Tin.
They passed Iris's table, where the apothecary was selling healing herb bundles and warming draughts for the coming winter. Several ladies were gathered around her, but she caught sight of Sass over their heads and winked, her gaze dropping to the ring on Sass's finger. Sass waved back with her ring hand, feeling a rush of gratitude that Iris had found the ring and given it to her.
Near the stone monument in the village center, Cali had set up an archery demonstration, shooting arrows with deadly precision at apples perched on wooden stakes. A small crowd had gatheredto watch the Tabaxi's impressive skills, gasping and applauding with each perfect shot.
Sass paused to admire her friend's ability to split an apple clean in half from thirty paces. While she watched, Thrain wandered over to an unfamiliar gnome woman with curly golden hair who was selling bottles from the back of an enclosed wagon. Wayside’s festivals were beginning to draw traveling vendors, which was surely a good sign.
When the dwarf wandered back and offered Sass a sip of the apple brandy, she declined with a shake of her head. "I want to keep my wits about me tonight.”
What she really meant was that she hadn't spotted Val yet and wanted to be fully present when she finally worked up the courage to tell the woman how she felt.
“We’d better head back and help Lira,” she said when she glimpsed Vaskel at Iris’s table. She wasn’t sure if he was there for the healing remedies or the apothecary herself, but she wouldn’t put it past the Tiefling to multitask.
The festival was reaching full swing now, with more people arriving from neighboring villages and the music growing louder and more festive.
"I understand why you don't want to leave Wayside," Thrain said quietly as they walked back toward The Tusk & Tail and munched on Pip’s addictive cookies. "This place has become your home in a way that the Ice Lands never was, hasn’t it?”
Sass’s chest tightened at the wistful tone in her friend’s voice. It was true, but she hated to remind Thrain that she wouldn’t be returning with him. She was saved from finding the right words by their arrival back at Lira’s table.
