Page 27 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
Lira released a breath only when they were gone, wondering what Korl had said to make the reeve leave so quickly.
“I think we owe one to your orc friend,” Sass said, scooping up their partially eaten pies.
Lira nodded absently. Usually, she despised being in someone’s debt, but she didn’t mind so much with Korl.
Sixteen
Lira stepped gingerlythrough the windowsill of her bedroom, shooting a final glance behind her. Sass hadn’t come up yet and Durn hadn’t approached their room since he’d shown them to it that first night, so there was no one to witness her sneaking onto the tavern’s roof.
She sat on the rough thatch and exhaled loudly into the stillness of the night, her warm breath puffing from her lips before the cloud vanished in the cold. Smoke curled from the chimney at the far end of the tavern, the sharp aroma of peat faint as it dissipated into the cool air.
For their first night serving food, it hadn’t gone too badlybut now that she’d stopped moving, Lira could feel the exhaustion seep into her bones. Not only that, but she was a mess. Her feet ached, her hair was a nest of frizz, and her left thumb boasted an angry red spot from where she’d touched it on one of the scorching pans. On top of it all, she was certain her hair reeked of charred pastry.
This was not at all how she’d imagined returning to Wayside.
Lira bent her knees and circled her arms around them as she shifted her weight to a less prickly spot on the thatch. She’d always heard folks say you could never go home again, and now she knew what they meant.
So much of the village was how she’d remembered it, but the one part that wasn’t there, that would never be there, was her gran. Lira was doing her best to recreate those moments in the kitchen that had been the core of her happiness, but without her gran it just meant blackened pies, burned skin, and sore feet. Not to mention the wyvern who threatened to ruin everything.
Had she made a mistake coming back? Should she have forgotten what she’d hidden away and just kept moving? She could have found another crew. She could have gotten more work.
She shook her head hard. No, that life was done for her. She knew that now. As skilled as she’d become, questing hadn’t been where her heart lay. Even as she’d deftly gotten her crew into impenetrable fortresses and gathered secrets that led them to hidden treasure, she’d known that it wasn’t the path she was meant to traverse.
Lira scanned the rooftops of the village that now slumbered peacefully, with only the sleepy whinny of a horse or distant hoot of an owl to ripple the quiet. She’d never thought that this crumb of a village would be her destiny either, but despite a bumpy start, she didn’t feel the urge to leave she thought she would.
She unwrapped her arms and propped them behind her, closing her eyes and breathing in the crisp cool air that was so unlike the night air in Elmshire with its aroma of roasting meat seeping from every chimney, so unlike the evening air in Lananore with its heady perfume from blossoms that only flowered at night, nothing like the frigid airin Frostmoor where the smell of snow was ever-present. Lira would know the woodsy, watery, smoky scent of Wayside with a single breath.
Then her breath caught in her chest, and her eyes flared open. There was something here aside from the quiet slumber of the village. The fine hairs on her arm prickled as she scanned the village and peered beyond it into the tree line.
She wasn’t sure if it was her elven blood or her years working as a rogue, but she could sense when she was being watched. And the shiver that skated down her spine told her that someone was watching her right now.
Was it Rygor? No, the wyvern was too arrogant to bother watching her in the dark. He seemed to be cunning, but she didn’t get the sense that he would bother with subterfuge. Not when he’d been empowered by the laird himself.
It wasn’t the wyvern, but there was someone out there. She’d bet her life on it.
“There you are.”
Sass’s voice ripped her from her focused scan of the hushed village, and she turned her head to find the dwarf climbing out to join her. Lira’s heart hammered recklessly, and she cursed herself for thinking she was being stalked when it was just Sass. Who would be after her here?
“What are you doing on the roof?” Sass crawled on her hands and knees across the bristly thatch, wincing as she plopped herself next to Lira.
“Just getting some air. I’ve always been partial to rooftops for contemplation.”
“Is this an elf thing?” Sass’s tone told her that she considered this habit to be quite odd.
Lira smiled and shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, but I wasn’t raised by elves.”
“Right.” Sass snapped her fingers. “Half-elf. Human gran.”
“Human gran.”
Silence settled between them, and Lira thought that Sass might be absorbing the magic of perching above the world and watching it sleep.
“Smells better up here,” Sass said. “You can still smell burned pie crust inside.” Then she held up her hands. “Not that it was a big deal, burning one batch. The rest were enough to feed the crowd we had tonight, and not a single patron complained. Not a bad start, if you ask me.”
“I’m still a bit rusty,” Lira admitted. “I’m just glad they turned out at all.”
Sass patted Lira’s knee brusquely then pulled her small hand away. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s a miracle you even found the oven under all that mess.”
