Page 31

Thirty

Lira’s hands moved with practiced ease as she measured the ingredients for the scones—flour, sugar, salt—while her mind wandered back to the roof and Korl. Just when she thought she understood the orc, he stood up and walked away. Had she said something that bothered him or worse, bored him?

She knew she should be focused on the task at hand, the scones, or the even bigger task, retrieving her gran’s cookbook.

Focus, Lira, focus.

A soft chittering sound drew her attention to the window. Crumpet balanced on the sill, his white fur ruffled by the breeze and his whiskers dancing from side to side. His furry wings—barely larger than the leaves of a mocker nut tree—fluttered as he hopped down onto the counter.

"Well, look who's come to supervise," Lira said, reaching for the cinnamon. The flutter-stoat watched her with glittering black eyes as she began cutting cold butter into the flour mixture. "I don't suppose you can explain why some people are so hard to read?"

Crumpet tilted his head, his intelligent face curious as he blinked at her.

"I mean, most people give you something to work with. A smile, a frown, excessive talking about themselves—" She thought of some of the more boisterous folks she'd encountered in her adventuring days. "But Korl is impossible. One day he talks, the next day he doesn’t.”

The flutter-stoat chittered, and Lira answered in a higher-pitched voice, mimicking what she imagined would be Crumpet's response. “Maybe he’s only talking to you to be nice.”

“Fair point, Crump.” She pointed a floury finger at him. “He doesn’t have a problem talking to Val, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t,” she said in her Crumpet falsetto.

The flutter-stoat’s whiskers turned down. It was clear he was not impressed with the voice.

“Maybe that’s because they work together. Guardsmen would have a lot of things to talk about.”

“Or maybe it’s because they’re more than colleagues,” she told herself in Crumpet’s voice as she shaped the scone dough.

Crumpet, who was now grooming his wings with an air of skepticism that seemed far too knowing, chittered at her in what Lira would swear was a disapproving tone.

"I must be losing my mind, talking to myself in an empty kitchen—and answering.”

“Yes, you must,” she said in Crumpet’s voice.

"What's crazy is answering yourself," Cali said from the doorway, making Lira jump. The Tabaxi's eyes widened as she spotted Crumpet, and he flapped his small wings. "Well, hello there. That's new. "

Cali stepped fully into the kitchen and released the swinging doors, walking closer to Crumpet and extending a hand. Crumpet stood on his hind legs, assessing the feline newcomer with shrewd eyes before sniffing a paw and chirping what sounded suspiciously like approval.

“Crumpet likes you,” Lira said.

Cali’s own whiskers twitched. “Crumpet, eh? Well, I’ve always been fond of weasels.”

“He’s a flutter-stoat,” Lira corrected.

Cali held up her paws. “My mistake. I’ve always been fond of stoats, flutter or otherwise.”

Lira stared at her levelly. “Because they taste—?”

“Nothing like that.” Cali waved away the suggestion. “You know I don’t catch my own food, and Tabaxis are more vegetarian anyway.”

“Glad to hear it,” Lira said, smiling at Crumpet. “I’m pretty fond of the little guy.”

“You always were a sucker for an enchanted being.”

“Sucker seems a bit harsh.” Lira cut the scones and moved them onto a baking sheet. “Besides, we've seen stranger things in our travels.”

Cali settled onto a stool she dragged over from the corner. Her tail curled around its base as she watched Lira brush the tops of the scones with cream. "Remember that talking mushroom circle in the Whispering Woods?"

"The ones that only spoke in riddles?" Lira smiled at the memory. “Pirrin was convinced they were giving us directions to ancient treasure."

"And instead, we ended up waist-deep in that fairy pond." Cali's whiskers twitched with amusement, but there was a sadness in her eyes at the mention of their fallen friend.

Lira slid the scones into the oven and didn’t miss a beat before she began measuring ingredients for the spice cake she’d promised Korl. "I miss him.”

Cali nodded. “He would have loved to see this place come back to life." She drummed her claws on the table. “This is where it all started. Right here in this very tavern. ”

“I still remember how terrified I was to approach you and Malek. I knew you must be adventurers by your clothing, but I could barely summon the courage to talk to you, much less ask to join.”

“You were so green,” Cali said. “But you actually turned green when Vaskel, Pirrin, and Rog showed up.”

“All of you together were a lot.”

“Gods, you were not the best rogue back then."

"Excuse me?" Lira pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense. "I was an excellent rogue!"

“In your first quest, you apologized to the guard captain after picking his pocket!"

Crumpet chittered what sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Lira scowled at the creature. “It was my first time! And he looked so disappointed that my flirting hadn’t been genuine. I felt bad for the guy.”

"We were desperate when we took you on,” Cali admitted. “We were short a rogue, winter was coming on, and that necromancer's tower wasn't going to raid itself."

Lira whisked the cake batter with more force than necessary. "Always nice to know you were the desperate choice."

"Hey." Cali's paw touched her arm. "It turned out to be the best choice we could have made. You saved our skins more times than I can count."

The batter smoothed under Lira's whisk, taking on a silky sheen. "Even though I apologized to marks?"

" Especially because you apologized to marks. Your conscience kept us human." Cali paused. "Well, human-adjacent, in my case—and Rog’s.” She watched as Lira poured the batter into the pan. "Speaking of running with our crew, are you sure about leaving all that behind to come back here?"

Lira's hands stilled. Through the window, she could see the stream gurgling over rocks as it wound its way down to the waterwheel at the mill, she could hear the strike of the blacksmith’s iron. The same blacksmiths who’d fixed her gran’s cart, the same mill where they’d gotten their flour, the same cool water flowing the same way it had all those years ago. But it was different now. Or maybe she was the one who was different.

"I am,” she said finally. "For the first time in a long while, I think I am.” She turned to her friend. "What about you? What's next for the infamous Cali Quickdraw?”

Before the Tabaxi could answer, Sass burst through the door, her brown braid swinging. "Your scone admirers are gathering early. And by gathering, I mean there are folks outside asking for them. Folks who aren’t our usual folks. Not to mention the lady chandler.”

Crumpet chittered excitedly and fluttered up to perch on the rack where the copper pots hung.

“The one you want to set up with Durn?” Lira asked.

Sass hitched one shoulder. “I might have bribed her with a free scone.”

“What are you using to bribe Durn to look presentable?” Cali asked.

Sass worked the end of her braid in one hand. “I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe I should offer her an ale to make him look better.”

“Better make it a few ales.”

Sass wagged a finger at Cali. “The longest tunnel starts with a single strike of the axe.”

Lira grabbed a dishcloth, grinning. "Well then, we shouldn't keep them waiting." She pulled open the oven door, releasing a wave of warm, spiced air. "Though I still think you're overly optimistic about this rush of yours."

"Mark my words," Sass called as she headed back to the dining room. "This is just the beginning!"

Cali's whiskers twitched with amusement. "You know what? I think the dwarf might be right. Not about Durn, though. That would take some powerful magic.” She stood and stretched. "Need help carrying anything out? "

"Always," Lira said, and together they began loading scones onto serving plates, falling into the same easy rhythm they'd had during their adventuring days.

Lira hadn’t missed everything about running with a crew, but she had missed this.