Page 5 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones
Sass already regretted mentioning knitting with Val, and she could feel heat climbing up her neck. “There’s no need…”
“Go on, Sass,” Lira said, her voice quieter. “You’ve worked hard enough. It’s okay to live a little.”
Sass didn’t have a chance to respond before Lira had ducked through the swinging doors leading into the kitchen, but she couldn’t stop the heavy breath that slipped from her lips. Herfriend was right. She deserved to enjoy herself, even if she and Val were only friends.
As much as the woman intrigued her, she hadn’t been able to let herself imagine anything more. At first, when she didn’t know if things in the village would work out, it had seemed too presumptuous. But now that she'd settled into a nice life at The Tusk & Tail, she should be able to imagine more.
If only…
Sass pushed aside the fears that tickled the back of her brain, assuring herself that the growing sense of dread was all in her mind. She had nothing to worry about. She had a cozy place to lay her head, good friends, and honest work to keep her occupied. Not to mention the striking blonde guardswoman who’d caught her attention from the first moment she’d walked through the doors.
If only she could get a read on what Val thought of her. Despite the guard’s friendly demeanor, she still didn’t know if Val considered her anything but a friend. Did the woman like to play her cards close to the chest, or had Sass been relegated to the friend zone?
She glanced toward the fireplace, where Val was knitting and laughing at something Korl had said from where he sat in the chair across from her. Even the sound of Val’s laugh made happiness bubble inside her. Lira was right. She deserved this. All of this.
Then she caught sight of the figure hunched over a small table in the back corner. A hood sagged over his eyes, and his face was bathed in shadow, but Sass would know the silhouette of a dwarf anywhere. She stumbled back, her breath caught in her throat, and all thoughts of a happy future fled her brain.
She didn’t know how he’d found her, but she was certain why he had.
Three
Sass backed away,her steps wooden. Maybe he hadn’t seen her. Maybe he wasn’t here for her. It was possible he was simply passing through, wasn’t it?
Before she could remind herself of the absurdity of a dwarf traveling from the Ice Lands without a good reason, a voice snapped her from her thoughts.
“Sass here can settle our argument.”
She glanced down at the halfling and gnome sitting across from each other at the end of a long table. Tinpin Thistledown, the village haberdasher, and Pip Brambleheart, the baker, had taken to meeting up at the tavern for the occasional dinner and more than occasional pint.
As usual, Pip’s wiry gray hair stood on end with flour-frosted tips, and his dough-smudged clothes wore the battle scars of his day in the bakery. By contrast, Tin’s impeccably tailored waistcoat and high-buttoned jacket were pristine, and he'd slicked his hair neatly to one side.
Nerves frayed Sass’s smile, but she couldn’t be rude and ignore her friends. Besides, it would seem suspicious, and the last thingthe dwarf wanted to do was appear jittery. “Don’t tell me you two are arguing.”
“It’s not a real argument,” Pip assured her with a flickering grin.
“Because it’s no contest. No contest at all.” Tin straightened, puffing out his small, ascot-embellished chest. “Gnomish recipes are far and away superior. Far and away.”
Pip’s laugh was tight. “But no one can bake them like halflings. Everyone knows that if you’re searching for the best baking in the Known Lands, you go to Elmshire.”
The gnome shifted in his seat. “Only because gnomes keep our villages secret. Very secret indeed.”
Sass had little interest in who came up with the recipes or even if it was a gnome or a halfling that baked them. In true dwarf fashion, all she cared about was the eating.
“Did the recipe for your lemon sweet rolls come from a gnome?” she asked, her stomach rumbling at the thought of the yeasty rolls slathered in sweet, gooey icing.
Pip’s eyes flared with indignation. “Bite your tongue. That recipe was my creation, as is my special creation for the Harvest Festival.”
“Then I’d have to side with Pip. If there’s anything more delicious than those lemon sweet rolls, I haven’t tasted it.” Sass also knew that whatever the halfling whipped up for the festival would be equally addictive, and her stomach growled in anticipation.
The halfling crossed his arms over his chest and gave his gnome friend a satisfied smile. “Then it’s settled.”
Tin braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, his eyes glinting merrily. “Not by a long shot. Not be a very long shot.”
The pair were so focused on their good-natured debate that they didn’t seem to notice Sass stepping back and drifting toward the bar. She slipped behind it to join Vaskel, who was back to pulling pints and chatting with the patrons.
He cut his gaze to her, clearly surprised to see her behind thebar instead of weaving her way around the tables or talking with Val near the crackling fire. “You get lost?”
Sass snorted out a laugh. “I’m just taking a wee break, is all.”
