Page 6 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones
Vaskel plucked a pewter tankard from the shelf tucked beneath the bar. “Since when do you take breaks?”
Sass knew she needed to act like everything was normal, but her heart was racing. She wiped her sweaty palms down the front of her apron and attempted to steady her breath. “Aren’t you the one encouraging me to live a little?”
He nodded as he spun the tankard in the palm of his hand. “I am, but not if it’s going to make you a wreck.”
“I’m not a wreck.” Sass flipped her braid off her shoulder and stole a glance at Val, which made her stomach do a flip. “Just a touch nervous.”
Val chose that moment to meet her gaze and send her a bright smile, which did nothing to calm Sass’s nerves or assuage her guilt at hiding secrets from her friends. Not that the dinner rush was the time to come clean.
She turned to the Tiefling, deciding to lean in on his assumption that she was nervous about Val. “Could you do me a favor?”
Vaskel’s usually wicked smile faded, replaced by an earnest expression that did nothing to banish the guilt gnawing at Sass. “Anything. You know that.”
She mustered her best smile. “I need a few moments to freshen up. Can you cover the floor for me?” She jerked a thumb toward the table nestled in the corner. “Especially that table. I didn’t make my way to that fellow yet.”
Vaskel flicked his gaze over her head, his crimson brow bunching. “The round table tucked in the back?”
Sass didn’t dare look as she bobbed her head. “Aye, that’s the one. I didn’t take his order yet.”
Vaskel craned his neck before cocking his head to one side. “Who’s order, Sass? There’s no one at that table.”
Sass whirled around, popping up onto her toes to get a clearview of the table. Where there had been a cloaked dwarf, there was now only an empty chair and a single burning candle with wax puddling in the copper holder.
Her breath stuttered in her throat as she swung her head from side to side and scanned the great room. He’d been there; she was sure of it. She hadn’t imagined him. She wouldn’t have imagined him. Not when she knew what his presence would mean.
Fear trickled down her spine and sent a shiver across her skin. But if he had been there and was there no longer, where had he gone? That was even more worrying.
“You need a break if you’re seeing things,” Vaskel said with a grin that Sass tried, but failed, to return.
A hundred scenarios ran through her mind as Vaskel patted her shoulder, but none of them ended well for her. And in none of them did she keep her happy new life at The Tusk & Tail.
Four
“Areyou sure I’m doing this right?” Sass eyed the snarl of yellow yarn in her lap and then the neat square Val had knitted.
She was sitting in Val’s usual chair by the hearth, where the crackling fire had burned down to a smoldering mound that spit out the infrequent spark. The rest of the patrons were long gone, and Vaskel had mysteriously vanished from behind the bar. Only the occasional sound of clattering dishes emerged from the kitchen, a sign that Lira was still cleaning up.
She and Val hadn’t been at it for long, but it was clear that Sass was not a natural. Not that she didn’t want to learn to knit, but most of her interest lay in the blonde guardsman and not in scarf-making. Still, Sass was sure she could have made a better showing if she hadn’t been so distracted.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Val said. “It took me a while to learn.”
Sass looked up and caught the flash of amusement in Val’s eyes. “I doubt that.”
Val put one of her large hands over Sass’s smaller one and squeezed. “Even the most skilled knitters started with the firstloop. You can’t become a master of anything without being awful at it first.”
Well, that was true. Sass hadn’t been skilled at axe-throwing with her first toss. In fact, she’d almost taken off her grandmother’s foot.
Sass let her gaze lock onto Val’s hand covering hers, and all thoughts of knitting flew out the window. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad plan, after all. Not that she’d intended to be so bad at yarnwork, but she couldn’t argue with the results.
The slam of a door made them both jump, and Val jerked her hand off Sass’s, moving it instinctively to the hilt of her sword. When no one came in the main door, both women released long breaths and nervous laughs.
“It must have been the kitchen door.” Sass shot a frown toward the back, even though Lira could hardly register her annoyance.
Val took in the empty great room. “Are we the only ones left? I must have lost track of time.”
Sass opened her mouth to argue that it wasn’t so late, but a yawn came out instead. She slapped one hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Val was already grinning.
“That means I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome.”
