Page 3

Two

The last light went out inside The Tusk & Tail, and Lira released a breath as she stood under the dripping eaves of a nearby building. The entire village had gone still, enveloped in the quiet of the night and the hush after a storm. Only the mournful hoot of a distant owl and the splash of the stream running behind the tavern broke the silence.

Lira didn’t move right away. She knew better than to rush it, even though her racing heart told her she was running short on time. Her hope had been to return to the tavern where she’d spent many a happy evening and enjoy another one filled with warm memories. Then she would get what she’d hidden for safekeeping and move on.

That hadn’t played out the way she’d hoped, and seeing the tavern in such sad disarray had left her feeling even more unmoored. Nothing lasted forever. Not family. Not friendships. Not even simple things like your favorite drinking hole.

Lira eyed the shabby exterior of the tavern. Even in the darkness of night, she could tell that it had been neglected. The whitewashed exterior was scarred and stained, there were gaps in the wooden crosshatching, and the thatched roof appeared to be patchy and pockmarked. Not to mention the sadness that clung to the place like a heavy shroud. No, The Tusk & Tail was nothing like she’d remembered, and she would be glad to get what she came for and move on.

Once she’d waited as long as her patience would allow, Lira moved stealthily toward the building, darting from shadow to shadow. She slunk to the back door, using her metal picks to make quick work of the lock and slipping them back under her cloak before pushing open the door. She braced herself for the creak, but the hinges surprised her by making no sound.

She closed the door behind her as quietly as she’d opened it and then moved on silent feet through the kitchen that clearly hadn’t been used nor cleaned in a while. The sharp bite of mildew warred with the earthier tones of decomposing garbage, and Lira pressed her lips together to keep from retching. The sticky floor pulled at the bottom of her boots, but she shifted to the tips of her toes as she crept to the cellar door.

Lira paused and listened. She knew the tavernkeeper lived upstairs, but there were no sounds drifting down the staircase that opened to the side of the cellar entrance. No snoring, no heavy breathing. Was this a good sign or a bad one?

It was too late to second guess her plan now. She’d have to assume that the burly man wasn’t a snorer and hope that he didn’t rouse easily. Not that she intended on making any noise to give herself away. She was too good at sneaking in and out of places to do that.

Even though she’d slunk into more dangerous places than a run-down tavern, her heart thudded as she opened the cellar door just enough to slip through. This job wasn’t remotely close to her most challenging ones, but her pulse quickened because she knew what awaited her downstairs. She knew what she’d come to retrieve.

Lira held tight to the wooden rail as she felt her way down the stairs in the blackness. Only when she touched the bottom did she reach inside her cloak and untie the pouch hanging around her waist. She produced a stone that was faceted with both rough and smooth sides, holding it in one hand as she whispered the elvish word she’d been taught. “Cala.”

Blue light glowed from the stone as it pulsed in her hand. Lira was glad she’d endured the choppy boat ride to reach the elvish island of Lananore and procure the illumination stone, and she was even more grateful that the enchanted stone didn’t require any more magic than a single word. Despite possessing elvish blood, Lira had never possessed any of the race’s powers.

The dank underground space was now illuminated enough for Lira to take a quick inventory. She wouldn’t have the light for long, so she swept her gaze across the barrels stacked along the walls and the empty shelves that once held stores of food.

The last time she’d been in the cellar, the baskets on the shelves had been filled with potatoes and onions, and the scent of vegetables had mixed with the aroma of ale and mead. Now the reek of rotting vegetation rose from forgotten corners, hanging over the cellar like a fog.

Lira pressed her lips together and walked forward, determined not to dwell on the cloying decay that had overtaken the storage area. It was not her business or her concern.

“Get in, get it, get out,” she whispered to herself as she extended her hand holding the stone so it could light her way to the back of the cellar.

The blue light bobbled and cast eerie shadows as unseen creatures scuttled out of the way ahead of her. She ignored them and the disturbing thoughts of what else was there with her.

You’ve been in dank dungeons and underground tunnels that were filled with worse .

Lira’s heart was a steady drumbeat in her ears as she rounded the shelves. She’d chosen a spot in the farthest corner of the cellar so it would go undisturbed. Who would think of poking around in the dirt walls beneath a tavern, after all?

Then she stopped short, and her breath hitched. The wall was no longer there. Well, it was there but it was no longer the red-brown clay of the other walls.

“Son of a wand waxer!” She forgot to keep her voice to a whisper as she stared at the wall that was now stone.

Who had stoned up the dirt wall and why? Her thoughts raced as her pulse spiked. The rest of the tavern was slowly crumbling, but the back of the cellar had been given a stone reinforcement?

Lira hurried to the wall, pressing one hand to the cool, gray stones that looked like they’d been sourced from a river. Probably the stream behind the tavern, she thought, as her muddled brain cleared, and she realized that the reason for the wall must have had more to do with shoring up the underground area than keeping her from her hiding spot.

She knelt in the corner and eyed the stones that stood between her and what she’d traveled so far to retrieve. They hadn’t just been stacked one on top of the other. Mud had been spackled between them, and it had dried to make a solid wall. It would take serious effort to get through the stone, and that effort would make more noise than she could afford at the moment.

Lira glanced at the glowing stone in her hand. Not only that, but she didn’t have much more light left before the stone’s illumination would dim.

She mumbled a few more curses under her breath before turning away, tears of frustration prickling the back of her eyelids. She’d come all this way to finally retrieve what she most treasured just to be denied when she was so close to holding it in her hands again.

Lira swallowed hard. She’d have to adjust her plan unless she was willing to leave without getting what she’d come for, which she wasn’t.

No matter. She was good as using her wits to solve problems on the fly. It was one of the skills she’d sharpened over many quests, and this hiccup was no different than a challenging lock or a mark who was reluctant to reveal his secrets. She’d simply have to hang around Wayside and The Tusk & Tail for a bit longer. Long enough to come up with a plan to break through the wall without getting caught. But not long enough to give the new reeve a chance to discover that it was her gold he was smelling under the tavern.

The gold wasn’t what was most important, though. It had never been. Not to Lira.

First of all, there were only a handful of gold pieces scattered inside the iron box she’d buried. Valuable, certainly, but not as precious to her as the book the box was made to protect, the book with all her gran’s handwritten recipes and the moonstone embedded in the cover.

That was why she’d come. That was why she couldn’t leave. It was the last thing she had to remember her gran. It was the one possession her gran had treasured most. It was the one thing her gran had told her to keep safe. Lira had promised she would, and she had no intention of breaking her last promise to the woman who’d raised her.

Even if it meant going up against a wyvern.

Determination hardened within Lira as she paused at the bottom of the steps and the light from the stone faded. She’d had setbacks before, and she’d always overcome them. This was no different.

Lira was surrounded by darkness once more, her steady breath her only company. She tucked the stone away and groped for the handrail so she could leave the tavern as quietly as she’d entered and devise a new plan, a better plan.

Then she heard a crash from above.