Page 50

Forty-Nine

Crumpet eyed the mountain of apple peels Lira had created, plucking up one strip of red peel and nibbling on it cautiously.

“Be careful.” Lira grinned at his pinched face as she poured water and sugar into a saucepan. “They’re tart now, but just wait until they’re wrapped up in pastry dough and baked.”

The flutter-stoat discarded the apple peel and chittered at her.

“I told you, I’m making apple dumplings for the Night Faire.” She gestured to the rows of neatly peeled apples on the worktable. “The cider seller had a bunch he wanted to move, and I remembered that my gran would save aging apples by making them into apple dumplings.”

Crumpet flew to the counter and sat on his hind legs with his tiny arms crossed.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Lira stirred the sugar slowly as the granules dissolved. “I’m making more than apple dumplings. I’ll have our usual scones and hand pies, too. The first batch of scones is already in the oven.”

Crumpet seemed slightly appeased by this, curling his fluffy white tail around himself and grooming it daintily.

Lira glanced at the oven and inhaled deeply. She’d learned to time the scones to the smell in the air, and if her calculations were right, they had a few more minutes to bake.

“You can’t blame me because you were gallivanting about.” Lira added a generous spoonful of cinnamon to the simmering sugar water. “I’ve been baking since the small hours of the morning. The Night Faire is tonight, after all.”

Crumpet emitted what she could have sworn was a huff and flounced his tail in her direction. Lira only laughed.

Despite the rush to pull together the Night Faire so quickly, they’d managed to build up quite a bit of excitement and get the entire village behind it. Well, the entire village aside from Silas, who’d remained content to prop up the far end of the bar and mutter to himself about the fuss.

Tin and Sass had nominated themselves for the joint task of coordinating the village decorations, which meant that Tin had created festive pennants from scrap cloth and they’d strung them crisscrossed between storefronts and from the top of the town monument down to the nearest buildings, making it look a bit like a Maypole.

The market was hung with lanterns, and Penny had provided luminaries that lined the main road that wound through Wayside. Even though it wasn’t yet dark, Lira’s heart had skipped when she’d seen how the village was decked out earlier.

On her morning walk to get the final few ingredients for her baking, she’d noticed that Pip’s door had been closed, but his windows shone with light. She’d even seen his brother Fenni wearing a baker’s apron and piling fresh loaves into the baskets behind the counter.

The town was brimming in anticipation, and Lira couldn’t help sharing in the excitement. She had such fond memories of childhood Night Faires that she had to remind herself many times that this would be different. She couldn’t wander the stalls feasting on culinary delights or spend an inordinate amount of time decorating a paper lantern. The rest of the village could indulge themselves, but despite the happy thrum in her chest, she needed to focus on the reason they’d thrown together the event in the first place.

Iris had it all worked out. While the Night Faire was in full swing with musicians playing and people laughing and wandering from shop to shop and stall to stall through the village, she and Lira would slip away and sneak down to the cellar. They’d use the cover of the festivities to mask the sound of breaking through the stone wall.

If all went according to Sass’s plan, Penny would entertain Durn away from the tavern while Cali stood watch to ensure that no one approached The Tusk & Tail. Korl hadn’t been told about the plan because if he was told, Val would need to know, and Iris had argued that the more people who knew, the greater a chance of a slip-up. Plus, they were guardsmen and letting them know of a potential crime would put Korl and Val in a tenuous position. The last thing anyone wanted was to get the guards fired.

Lira didn’t like keeping things from Korl, especially after he’d been so kind to them—to her. He hadn’t scoffed when she’d told him she thought she was being followed, and he hadn’t judged her when she’d revealed what she’d been doing for all her years away. She hadn’t seen him since then, but that was only because in the days since she’d done nothing but prepare for the Night Faire. She hoped his and Val’s absence from the tavern meant that they were busy with work or perhaps preparing for the upcoming festivities as well.

As Lira was thinking that she missed seeing Val and Korl in their usual chairs by the fire, the kitchen doors flew open, and Sass burst in.

“This is a disaster! ”

Lira almost sloshed some of the bubbling syrup onto the floor, and Crumpet flew to the hanging pots. The dwarf braced two fists on her hips and blew an errant curl from her forehead.

“What’s a disaster?’ Lira asked, instinctively cutting her eyes to the stove. No smoke billowed from the door, so at least the disaster wasn’t from her kitchen.

“How is this plan going to work if Durn is too thick to know that Penny wants him to ask her to the faire?”

Crumpet flapped his furry wings and fluttered down from the top rack, landing on the worktable and shooting Sass a scathing look.

“Relying on Durn’s sensitivity should never have been Plan A.”

Sass crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re right. We should just lock him in a closet somewhere.” Her eyes brightened. “Or we could drug him. Could you make one of those apple things with some of Iris’s sleeping tonic in it?”

Lira shook her head at the exasperated dwarf. “Let’s call that Plan C.”

“Maybe this is why I never made it onto a crew. Contingency plans make me too nervous.”

Strategizing came as naturally to Lira as baking, with a good deal fewer burns. “Why does Durn need to ask her or the other way around, for that matter? They only need to think they’ve been asked by the other.”

Sass bobbed a nod. “We trick each into thinking the other asked.”

“A pair of notes delivered to each should do the job.” Lira lifted the spoon, pleased with the amber syrup coating it. “Cali is good at mimicking handwriting. You should ask her to help.”

Sass bounced on the balls of her feet. “I knew you would have a solution.” Then she eyed Lira. “Should I be worried you’re so good at trickery?”

“Not when I’m on your side.”

A grin teased the edges of the dwarf’s lips, and she drew in a long breath. “Any chance of something to munch on while I’m working with our forger? ”

“Not unless you consider raw apples a treat.”

Sass grimaced, backing from the kitchen as quickly as she’d arrived, leaving the doors swinging in her wake.

Lira winked at Crumpet as she took the fragrant cinnamon syrup off the stove. “Now where were we?”