Page 17 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones (Tales from the Tavern #2)
Seventeen
The morning sun unfurled ribbons of golden light across the village of Wayside as Sass made her way down the dirt road from The Tusk it's baked in the oven.”
He bustled around the counter almost dancing on his toes, his flour-dusted hands fluttering enthusiastically as he spoke. "I've been experimenting with a new sweet roll flavor for the Harvest Festival. This morning's batch is made with pumpkin and cinnamon, with just a touch of nutmeg and cloves."
"Pumpkin sweet rolls?" Sass felt the possibility of a light breakfast crumble like week-old biscuits. "Pip, you're going to be the death of me."
"Or the salvation of you," the halfling replied with a wink. "Nothing starts a day better than something sweet. Here, try one while they're still fresh from the oven."
He lifted the glass dome with a flourish, releasing a cloud of aromatic steam that made all three women sigh in unison, although Cali’s sigh was more of a purr. The sweet rolls were golden-orange and glossy with glaze, the scent of spices mingling with the decadent aroma of pumpkin and butter.
Sass couldn't resist biting into hers immediately, barely waiting for Pip to hand it over. The roll was still warm, the gooey glaze covering her mouth as her teeth sank into the dough.
"Sweet simmering cauldrons," she breathed. "Pip, this is incredible."
Pip rubbed his hands together. “Better than the lemon ones?”
Lira’s euphoric expression slipped from her face. “You aren’t going to make us pick, are you?”
“That’s like choosing a favorite member of your crew,” Cali murmured as she swallowed and swiped her tongue to clean her sticky lips.
“Me, of course,” Lira said, grinning at Cali, who nudged her and nodded.
The interior door that connected the bakery to the cheese shop swung open, and Fenni appeared with his usual impeccable timing.
Unlike his brother, the cheesemonger was pristine as always, not a hair out of place or a smudge on his three-piece houndstooth suit.
He took in the scene with an amused smile.
"Let me guess," he said, straightening his jacket with a two-handed tug. “You tried the treats Pip's been working on all night.”
"All night?" Sass raised an eyebrow at the baker, who had the grace to look slightly sheepish.
"Well, not all night," Pip protested, though the flour in his hair and the slightly manic gleam in his eyes suggested otherwise. "Just since about one this morning. I had an inspiration, you see, and when inspiration strikes, you must follow it!"
"He does this," Fenni explained with the long-suffering tone of someone who'd dealt with his brother's creative obsessions for decades.
"Gets an idea and can't rest until he's perfected it. I came down this morning to find him surrounded by mixing bowls and muttering about the perfect spice blend. I told you to get some sleep, didn’t I Pip?”
“That you did,” Pip muttered.
"This only proves that the festival is going to be magnificent," Lira said, taking another appreciative bite of her sweet roll. "The whole village is buzzing with excitement."
"It's wonderful to see everyone so enthusiastic," Fenni agreed, his face brightening. "We haven't had a proper autumnal celebration in Wayside for far too long."
As more early customers trickled in, drawn by the irresistible aromas and the promise of Pip's genius baking, the halfling hurried behind his counter again. Lira, Cali and Sass stepped aside to let Pip serve the villagers while they licked fingers and took final bites of the pumpkin sweet rolls.
Sass knew everyone who was lining up to buy bread.
Wayside was a small village, after all. Everyone but one, she thought, as she watched a petite, well-dressed figure slip through the door.
The man was clearly not a local. His clothes were too fine, his boots too polished, and the feather-plumed hat perched jauntily on his head was not the sort of thing you saw in Wayside.
Sass tracked him, taking a step closer to listen when he reached the counter.
“I’ll take six of your largest loaves," the stranger said, producing a leather purse that clinked promisingly. "And perhaps some of these sticky buns. We've heard excellent things about your baking."
Sass felt a chill run down her spine at the word we .
"Cali," Sass said quietly, moving closer to her friend. "Is anyone new staying at the inn?"
The Tabaxi's ears flicked toward the stranger, then back to Sass. "No," she said softly. "Just Vaskel and me, and we've been there for weeks now. Why?"
Sass watched as the stranger completed his purchase, accepting the wrapped loaves and sweet rolls with efficient politeness. It was entirely possible that a merchant was passing through or a nobleman had sent his servant in to purchase bread during a long journey.
“No reason," she said, but her eyes never left the man as he headed for the door. "Just curious."
The stranger paused at the threshold, his gaze sweeping the bakery one final time before he stepped out into the morning sunlight. Through the window, Sass watched him walk down the main road at an unhurried pace. There was no nobleman’s carriage or merchant wagon in sight.
At the edge of the village, where the road gave way to forest, the man turned left instead of continuing toward the main trade routes. The path he chose led into the deep woods that surrounded Wayside, the kind of place where travelers might make a hidden camp if they didn't want to be seen.
Sass felt her stomach clench with a familiar mixture of dread and determination. A well-dressed stranger buying provisions for a group, then disappearing into the forest? The only reason Sass didn’t allow fear to overtake her was the undeniable fact that the stranger had not been a dwarf.
Even so, somewhere in the woods, there was someone—many someones, if the quantity of bread was any sign—who wished to remain hidden.