Page 1 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones (Tales from the Tavern #2)

One

Sass wiped the back of a hand across her forehead as she pushed through the swinging doors into the tavern’s kitchen. “Grognick’s beard, it’s boiling in here.”

Lira glanced up from pulling a tray of golden-brown, crescent-shaped pastries from the oven and grinned at the dwarf. “Well, I have been cranking out meat pies since the dinner rush started.”

“And the rush is nowhere near done.” Sass tossed her long, dark braid off her shoulder and leaned gratefully against the wooden table in the center of the room as she drew in a ragged breath.

Her feet ached and begged for her to sit, but she knew that would only make it impossible to heave herself up again, and since she was the only server they had, resting wasn’t an option.

“I think this is called beware of what you wish for,” Lira said, as she blew an errant strand of auburn hair from her eyes. “We wanted The Tusk they don’t keep well.”

Lira’s brows lifted. “As if we’d have any way of knowing that.”

Sass paid no mind to that comment either. It wasn’t her fault that the village’s halfling baker created pastries so delicious that they never lasted much longer than the brief walk from his bakery to the tavern.

Lira plucked a small, blistered crumb from one of the meat pies and handed it to Crumpet. “I would offer you a leftover scone, but there are none left.”

Sass eyed the crumb in the flutterstoat’s paws longingly. “I’m also rethinking my afternoon scone break idea.”

Lira slid the hand pies onto a pewter tray with quick hands. “Because it’s been so successful that there are no extra scones for us?”

Sass gave her friend a side-eye glance. “I suppose I have no one to blame for this but myself and perhaps your baking.”

Crumpet chittered as he daintily wiped his paws, unfurled his wings, and flew to the copper pots hanging above.

“And your taste-testing skills, Crump,” Sass added with a wry smile, then swiveled her head around the kitchen. “What happened to the recipe you were working on for the Harvest Festival? Anything left from that?”

Lira’s brow pinched, and Sass regretted reminding her that the festival to celebrate the coming harvest season was mere days away. Not that she had any doubt that Lira would come up with a delicious recipe the tavern could showcase, especially since her friend now had her gran’s recipe book.

“The apple crumble bars? I’m still working on the perfect apple to cinnamon ratio.”

Sass scanned the kitchen for the large leather-bound recipe book that contained much more than recipes. “I thought you were using one of your gran’s recipes.”

“I am.” Lira glanced at the flutter stoat. “But my gran’s measurements for recipes weren’t always precise. I’m still working out what her version of a sprinkle, a pinch, or a handful is, which means lots of trial runs. Right, Crumpet?”

Sass straightened and put her hands on her hips. “Are you telling me that the wee beast ate everything?”

“Like you said, he’s excellent at taste-testing.”

Before Sass could register another complaint about the enchanted stoat eating better than she did, the kitchen doors that only took up the middle part of the doorway swung open.

“If there’s any taste-testing to be done, I’d like to be considered for the job.”

Sass and Lira both turned as Korl stepped into the kitchen.

The tall orc guardsman wore quilted chest armor over dark pants and had his black hair tied back.

His skin was dusky green, with small tusks that peeked from his lower lip.

Muscles bunched his arms and shoulders, which were currently free of weapons.

Lira’s face lit up at the sight of her fiancé. “You’re done with work?”

He nodded, his dark eyes flashing as he took her in. “Guardsmen work, at least.”

Korl had recently taken over the old tinker’s workshop, although he was still working as a guard until he was ready to open for business.

Despite his imposing appearance, the orc preferred fiddling with gadgets to swinging a sword.

But above all things, he preferred Lira, which was clear in the way he looked at her and the way his cheeks splotched dark every time she walked into a room.

Sass tried not to envy the couple. After all, Lira was her best friend. But it was hard not to want someone to gaze at her with that doe-eyed infatuation. Especially a certain someone, Sass thought, her eyes flitting to the kitchen door as if willing the blonde guard to walk in behind Korl.

When she didn’t, Sass wagged a finger at the orc, making him take a step back although he was twice as tall as her. “Don’t even think of coming in and distracting my cook with those smoldering orc looks.”

Lira stifled a laugh. “Smoldering orc looks?”

Sass narrowed her gaze first at her friend and then at the guard. “You know what I mean.” She took another step toward Korl. “Now go out to the great room, and I’ll see if I can commandeer one of her meat pies for you.”

“Much appreciated, Sass.” Korl winked at Lira over Sass’s head but dutifully backed away, leaving the half-doors creaking in his wake.

“You need to set a date for your wedding, you know,” Sass said once the orc had left.

Lira held up her flour-dusted palms. “I can’t add one more thing to my plate until the Harvest Festival is over.”

Sass tapped one toe impatiently. “You’re sure you’re not putting it off?”

Lira scoffed at this, but dropped her gaze back to the worktable. “Why would I do that? I’m crazy about Korl.”

Sass twitched one shoulder. She didn’t know the answer either, but she could have sworn that Lira had been avoiding the topic every time she brought it up. “All I know is that it’s going to take a bit of time to pull together a fancy wedding, so the sooner we start planning, the better.”

Lira’s eyes became slits as she placed the final crescent on the tray and sent it across the wooden table to Sass. “Who said anything about a fancy wedding?”

“I have—to everyone.”

Lira’s eyes went skyward. “As long as I don’t have to think about this fancy wedding until after the Harvest Festival.”

Sass tried to keep the triumph out of her smile. “I suppose it can wait, although I might have already talked to Tin about color palettes.”

“Are you adding wedding planner to your list of talents?”

“How hard could it be? Not harder than whipping this place into shape, that’s for sure.”

“There’s no denying you did a miraculous job fixing up the tavern. It’s the beating heart of the village again, and a lot of that is down to your hard work.”

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 arrived in 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.

The real reason. 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 hear her 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.