Page 23

Twenty-Two

Lira rubbed sleep from her eyes as she sipped her mug of chai at the stove when the swinging doors flew open the next morning. When she jumped, some of the steaming contents of her drink sloshed onto her hand and she emitted the appropriate yelp.

“Apologies.”

The voice was gruff and low, and unless Sass had acquired a virulent cold overnight, it didn’t belong to the dwarf. It also came from behind the swinging doors, which had swung shut again from the force of the first attempt.

A dusky, green hand appeared as an orc pushed into the room, this time more gingerly. Not just an orc, Lira realized. Korl.

Once again, she was struck by how good looking he was, especially for an orc. Not that she had anything against the looks of orcs in general. She’d known some perfectly decent ones, most notably Korl’s dads, but not many she would have called handsome. But Korl’s chiseled cheekbones, square jaw, and black hair that he wore in a braid made it hard for her to look away. But when her face warmed, she did.

“Did you burn your hand?”

Lira shook her head, flicking drops of spiced tea from her fingers and unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “What are you doing here? We don’t open for hours.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Lira set her mug onto the counter and patted her damp hand with a cloth. “Where would I be? What we haven’t established is why you’re here.”

Korl grunted and tipped his head across the room. “Your friend said it was broken.”

Lira followed his gaze to the iron stove that sat cold and sullen in the corner. “You’re here to fix the oven?”

Korl shrugged. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“Please, if you can make it work again don’t let me stop you.”

Korl lowered the metal tool caddy he gripped in one hand to the floor, the contents clattering as he squeezed past her to reach the offending contraption.

Lira sucked in to let him pass, holding her breath as his quilted leather breastplate brushed her tunic. “Have you ever fixed an oven before?”

He shook his head, not glancing back as he knelt in front of the iron beast and tugged on the handle. “Machines are machines, and all moving parts move in the same way. More or less.”

That hadn’t been Lira’s experience, but it was safe to say that she’d never fancied herself a dab hand with gadgets. Unless the gadget was a lock, and that was more to do with listening and feeling than fixing.

Korl thrust his head inside the oven, his grunts amplified by the close quarters as he inspected the interior. When he emerged, he sat back on his haunches, jutting out his jaw and blowing a gust of air upward to remove an errant strand of hair from his eyes.

Lira pressed her lips together as she took in his serious expression and the patch of soot capping the tip of his nose. The last thing she wanted to do was laugh at him, especially since he’d come to help.

She snatched the cloth she’d used to wipe her own hand, deeming it clean enough. “Here, hold still.” She knelt down in front of him and took his chin in one hand, holding his face steady as she swept the soot away in a single swipe. “That’s better.”

She hadn’t expected him to smell so good, but she almost sighed as she breathed in his spicy, smoky scent. Lira met his eyes, which seemed to have gone even blacker than usual. He was holding his breath, his entire body rigid. Her pulse quickened, and she held up the dirty rag as explanation. “Soot.”

The air between them buzzed, and even her fingers tingled from holding his chin. He still hadn’t exhaled, so she rose and took a big step back. “I suppose there’ll be more of that before the job’s through. I’ll let you get to it, shall I?” She didn’t wait for an answer before beating a hasty retreat from the kitchen, and almost flattening Sass in the process.

“Grognick’s beard, woman!” Sass stumbled back, almost landing on her ample rear end before Lira caught her by the arms. “What’s got you in such a state?” Then her eyes went wide as her gaze danced between Lira and the kitchen doors. “It’s not rats, is it? I can’t abide rats.”

Lira steadied her breath and released Sass. “It’s not rats. It’s nothing. Well, not nothing. Korl is here.”

Sass gave her a blank look. “Korl?”

“Val’s friend,” Lira said, letting her voice drop. “The orc.”

Sass’s expression brightened. “Korl!” Then wrinkles crowded her brow. “Why is Korl here?”

“He’s fixing the oven.”

“The orc guardsman is fixing our oven?” She gave the swinging doors a pointed look. “Right now? ”

Lira nodded. “Val did say he preferred tinkering to fighting.”

Doubt flickered across the dwarf’s face and she stepped around Lira, pushing the half doors open enough to poke her head into the kitchen. When she straightened and released the doors, she gave her head a brief shake.

“Well? I was telling the truth, wasn’t I?”

“You didn’t tell me that he had an assistant.”

Lira cocked her head and went onto her tiptoes to peer over the top of the doors. Korl sat on the floor in front of the oven with the door open and his head inside, and balanced on the handle of his tool caddy perched Crumpet, bent over and pawing through the contents.

Lira groaned. “Crumpet!”

The creature cut his eyes to her without removing his hands from where they were buried in the tools and chittered something. Apparently, he was as fond of hammers and wrenches as he was of rolling pins.

Before she could enter the kitchen and retrieve him, Korl popped his head from inside the oven. “He’s not bothering me.”

“You’re certain?” Lira asked, shooting a severe look at the animal.

“He’s not bad at holding tools.” Korl passed Crumpet a hammer, which was swiftly dropped into the caddy. The corners of Korl’s mouth twitched. “Maybe he’s better at putting them away.”

“If you’re sure…”

Korl gave her a flash of a smile. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll rub along just fine.”

And with that, he went back to inspecting the inside of the oven and emitting curious grunts.

Lira dropped back onto flat feet. “I guess we leave him to it?”

Sass patted her on the back, steering her into the great room and toward the enormous stuffed chairs by the fire. “You and I have been so busy cleaning and cooking that we haven’t gotten a moment to try out these chairs for ourselves.”

Lira hadn’t considered not testing out the chairs a great loss, but if she couldn’t be puttering around the kitchen, she might as well have a proper sit down.

The hearth was stacked with fresh peat—no doubt done by Sass the night before to make quicker work of her morning chores—so it took only the strike of a long match and teasing the fledgling flame under some tangled kindling to get the fire going.

Lira sank into one of the chairs, her hands curling around the wide armrests to keep her from vanishing into the cushioning. The fabric smelled faintly of dust but not enough to provoke a cough.

“When did you ask Korl to fix our oven?” Lira asked once Sass had made short work of the fire and taken the chair opposite.

Sass’s legs shot straight out, the chair too large for her feet to touch or even for her knees to bend. Even so, she wiggled herself to the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “Me? I was going to ask you when you did.”

Lira shook her head. “It wasn’t me.”

“He took it upon himself then.” Sass gave Lira a wry smile. “Isn’t that interesting…?”