Page 18

Seventeen

When Lira woke the next morning, the bed across from hers was empty and the clothes were gone. Even the dwarf’s cloak was missing.

Her heart lurched as she bolted upright. Sass wouldn’t have snuck out in the night. Not after everything she’d said.

“Oh, hells!” Lira threw back the blanket and swung her feet to the cold planks, snatching her green day dress from where she’d draped it over the foot of the bed and dressing as quickly as she could with fumbling fingers.

She didn’t bother to shove her feet into her boots, carrying them as she hurried down the narrow stairs and burst into the great room. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged and buffed clean, but the fire was cold, and there was no sign of Sass. She rushed to the kitchen. Nothing.

Cinders and dragon dung, where had the dwarf gone?

Lira wracked her brain for where Sass could be. It wasn’t as if she knew a lot of people in Wayside. She glanced through one of the gleaming windows to see that the sun was barely warming the world. The market wouldn’t even be open for business yet, so she couldn’t have gone out to shop.

Lira’s thoughts drifted to their conversation on the roof. Sass had claimed to be happy to stay, to like Wayside. Had that all been a ruse? But why?

Her gaze jerked to the bar, and she walked jerkily behind it to where Durn kept the till. Then she tore her eyes away. Sass wouldn’t run off. Not after she’d covered for her. Lira’s highly tuned instincts told her that Sass could be trusted, and Lira desperately wanted to trust her instincts again.

But if Sass hadn’t run off, did that mean she was in danger? Lira had spent so long with danger snapping at her heels that it was hard not to assume that danger was around every dusty bend. Who would want to hurt Sass? Had the dwarf picked up enemies during her travels south?

Lira jammed her feet into her boots. If Sass was missing, she needed to find her. And if she’d run off, well, maybe she still wanted to find her.

Before she could take a first step, the back door scraped open and Sass ambled in carrying a pail in each hand, water sloshing over the rims, when she spotted Lira and stopped.

“You’re awake.” Sass set down the pails and massaged her palms where the light brown skin was rubbed pink from the handles. She shoved up the voluminous sleeves of her dark blue day dress, the full skirt almost brushing the floor.

“What are you…” Lira’s words tumbled from her mouth, but she stopped as it was clear what Sass had been doing. “I didn’t know… I couldn’t find you. ”

Sass tossed her long braid over her shoulder. “Were you worried about me?” Then her grin faltered. “Did you think I’d left?”

Lira composed herself enough to shake her head. “No, of course not. I was worried something bad might have happened.”

“Something bad?” Sass’s smile returned at full brightness. “Here? In this little village?”

When she said it like that it did seem silly, but Lira knew better than most that evil could find safe harbor in even the loveliest of places.

Lira raised one shoulder. “You might have enemies who tracked you here.”

Sass put her hands on her hips. “I wish someone thought I was deadly enough to be hunted down, but no. No one is coming after me, that, I can assure you.”

Lira’s breathing had returned to normal, so she nodded, as if dismissing their conversation, her fears, and Sass’s disappearance in a single gesture. “I suppose I should get to work then.”

The dwarf heaved one of the buckets of water onto the wooden table that took up the center of the kitchen. “We’re lucky the stream is so close, since we used up almost all of the tavern’s water stores. I’m going to get started with the bar. Durn didn’t bother to clean it last night. Then I’m finally going to wash our muddy clothes.”

So that’s why her cloak had been missing.

Sass picked up the remaining bucket and headed for the swinging doors before pausing. “I don’t suppose you could whip up something for us to eat?”

Lira thought about the ingredients she’d used the day before, what she’d need for that night, and what she would have left. Then she thought of what her gran loved to bake for breakfast. “Do you like scones?”

“Love them,” Sass said. “What are they, exactly?”

Lira flapped a hand at her. “Don’t worry. You will love them.”

Sass muttered something about the low bar of gully dwarf porridge for breakfast as she continued into the great room. She’d barely cleared the swish of the doors when Crumpet wedged himself through the window that Lira had left open specially for him.

“Hi, there.” Lira’s voice softened and her mood lifted when she saw the creature somersault from the window to the counter. He sat up on his hind legs and rubbed his paws together.

“I don’t have any dough for you to taste yet, but how do you feel about scones?” Crumpet chittered as if he knew exactly what a scone was. “Better than whatever gully dwarf porridge is, right?”

Crumpet made agreeable sounds as he sat back on his furry haunches and watched Lira, his shrewd black eyes following her every movement.

Lira had barely assembled her ingredients when the doors swung open again, causing Crumpet to take flight to the copper pots. “Scones take longer than that.”

“I’m sure they do, love,” said a voice that did not belong to Sass.

Lira almost dropped the bottle of cream as she turned to find Iris entering her kitchen.

“I hope I’m not coming at a bad time.” Iris placed a basket on the table. “I thought you might be up early, and I wanted to bring you the spices.”

Spices? For a moment, Lira had no idea what the apothecary meant.

“For your fancy tea?” Iris prodded.

“My chai!” Lira clapped her hands. “You sourced them already?”

Iris winked at her as she started to retrieve small burlap sacks from her basket. “Most of them I had, even if they were buried in my storeroom, and the others I got from an herbalist who was passing through.”

Lira picked up one bag and then the next, pressing them to her nose to inhale the spicy aroma of cardamom pods, the fresh bite of ginger, and the sweetness of cinnamon sticks. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

Iris emptied the basket and then lowered it to the floor by her feet. “My pleasure, love. ”

Crumpet took this as an invitation to fly down and inspect the empty basket himself.

Iris didn’t jump or even flinch at the creature’s presence, no doubt inured by having a flock of bookwyrms. “So that’s where the rascal went!”

Lira gaped at Iris. “You know him?”

The woman held out a hand and the white ermine scampered over and sniffed it before giving her fingers a little lick. “He’s a flutter-stoat.”

“A flutter-stoat?” She narrowed her eyes at the apothecary. “Should I assume he came about in much the same way as the bookwyrms?”

Iris shrugged.

“How many enchanted creatures are wandering around Wayside?”

“No comment.”

Lira sighed. “Well, I call him Crumpet. He showed up when I started baking and seems to have an eye for pastry.”

Iris scrutinized the flutter-stoat as he leapt back to the counter. “Hmm.” Then she gave herself a little shake and beamed a smile at Lira. “Now are you going to brew some of this fancy tea from The Wild Reach or are you going to make me beg?”

Lira flushed with pleasure at the request. “I’d love to, but fair warning, I’ve never made it from scratch.”

Iris shrugged and leaned against the table. “I don’t mind being your test subject. I did it enough for your gran.”

Lira laughed at this as she put a saucepan on the stove and poured in equal amounts of milk and water. Then she whirled on the woman. “Do you happen to remember any of her recipes?”

Iris blinked a few times as if digesting the question. “Your gran’s recipes?” She shook her head, and her curls quivered. “I’m afraid I never learned them. Not that she wouldn’t have shared them. She was generous with her baking, and that included recipes. I never asked because I don’t bake.”

Now that she thought about it, she’d never seen Iris bake or cook. Did the woman subsist on tea alone? She was just wiry enough that she might .

“Since your gran passed, I’ve had to rely on Pip.”

Well, that answered that.

“But he doesn’t make the treats your gran did. The village keeps him busy enough doing morning buns and loaves for slicing, but I miss your gran’s teacakes. They were perfect with a cup of tea, and you know I love my tea.” The woman sighed then she perked up as she glanced around the kitchen. “Are you baking her recipes?”

Lira stirred the warming milk with a wooden spoon. “If I can remember them.”

Iris reached for her free hand and squeezed it. “I wish I could help, love.”

Lira wished she could too. She began to open the tiny bags and empty the contents onto the table, savoring the aromas wafting up. She dropped a few of the green cardamom pods into the milk along with a pinch of whole, knobby cloves and a snugly curled cinnamon stick.

Then she thought about what she’d forgotten to ask Iris when she’d been at her shop, what she’d been wondering for years. “There is one thing you can help me with.”

Iris straightened.

“What is that heavenly smell?”

As Sass walked in breathing deeply, they both turned.

“Lira is making some fancy tea she tried when she was in The Wild Reach,” Iris said.

“Tea?” Sass’s eager expression fell.

“Spiced tea,” Lira said, trying to hide her disappointment at being interrupted “You’ll love it.”

Sass leaned closer to the brewing chai, drawing in another long breath. “Well, it has to be better than my uncle’s double fungus ale.”