Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Vaskel’s steps back to Wayside and the Tusk & Tail were leaden, his boots trodding on the packed snow, and before he knew it, he was staring in front of the tavern.
He held open the front door for a farmer with a wispy mustache who was leaving with a half-eaten scone in one hand.
The familiar scents of sugar and spice made the hellkin’s shoulders uncoil as he walked inside.
Lira was right that baking was a special kind of magic. Even before a single sip of chai or a bite of a buttery, crumbly scone, he felt more at ease.
Sass worked her way around the wooden tables, a tray of scones held high over her head. Folks were sipping chai from ceramic mugs, low conversation humming between them and melding with the crackle of the fire.
The afternoon scone service was always a more mellow experience than nighttime at the tavern, when ale flowed as freely as the raucous tales.
Lira stepped from the kitchen with a tray of mugs, sliding it onto the top of the long bar. Her gaze fell on Vaskel, and her brows rose in an unspoken question.
He continued past his usual post behind the bar, following her back into the kitchen where there was less chance of them being overheard. The doors swung shut behind him, but Lira waited until he scraped the stool across the floor to the worktable and sat down.
“So?” she asked him as both Crumpet and Bramble perched on their hind legs as if just as eager to hear his answer. “What did Iris have to say about Cali?”
He’d been so distracted by seeing Cali that he’d almost forgotten visiting Iris for her take on the situation.
“I saw Cali.” He schooled his tail so it wouldn’t flick behind him and reveal his inner turmoil. “Iris suggested I talk to her, which was good advice, so I tracked her down at the castle.”
Lira braced her hands on the wooden table and leaned forward. “And?”
“I talked to her.” He considered how much to tell Lira, how much more to put on her, but he decided on the truth—all of it.
“She’s felt lost here since we all have something to do and she doesn’t.
She misses the purpose of quests. I think she misses the camaraderie more, and she thinks she’ll get that again with Marina. ”
Lira gnawed at her bottom lip, finally throwing a dishtowel on the table and making the flutterstoat and raccoon flinch. “This is my fault. I should have been paying more attention to Cal. This is my hometown. I should have made sure she was happy here.”
Vaskel shook his head so hard his long hair swished around his neck. “You couldn’t have known. Neither could I. I thought she was happy reading and taking it easy. I thought she was enjoying a break after so many years adventuring.”
Lira ran a hand through her hair, leaving a streak of flour in it. “We have to intervene and tell her we can fix this—together, like we always have. We have to get Cali away from that hellkin’s clutches.”
Vaskel eyed the pot of bubbling chai, his stomach snarling at him. “I told her all that. We can’t exactly kidnap her.”
“Says who?” Lira started pacing a small circle behind the table, and both Crumpet and Bramble backed away with wide eyes. “It’s not kidnapping if it’s for a noble reason.”
“Not sure that’s the way it works,” Vaskel said in a low voice that Lira didn’t hear.
“Maybe we can lure her with Pip’s sweet rolls,” Lira muttered. “She loves those.”
Vaskel groaned as he imagined Lira setting up a trap with sweet rolls tied to a string. “For the moment, Cali is safe, especially since Marina believes she’s got her fooled.”
“Which she does,” Lira grumbled but stopped pacing.
“For now, but Cal is smart. Marina can’t keep up the ruse forever. We should focus on thwarting Marina and her hellkin crew. Then we can get Cali without putting her at risk.”
Lira followed Vaskel’s gaze as it drifted to the chai again.
She reached for a mug, pouring the amber liquid until it nearly reached the rim.
She slid him the mug, then grabbed an overly browned scone from an otherwise empty baking pan—one no doubt deemed too imperfect to serve—and tossed it to him.
Vaskel snatched it from the air with his free hand, grinning that Lira hadn’t forgotten his quick reflexes—or lost her aim. He sipped the chai and bit into the scone, the cinnamon in both warming him from the inside as he swallowed.
“That’s the plan?” Lira asked, tapping her toe on the floor in rapid fire.
Crumpet folded his tiny, furry arms and mimicked the movement with his own white foot, narrowing his ink-drop eyes as if just as frustrated as his mistress.
Vaskel fought the urge to laugh and almost choked as he swallowed a mouthful of scone. He gulped the chai and wiped the grin from his face. He didn’t want to incur Lira’s or Crumpet’s wrath.
“I suggest we work even harder on the cookies that will break the soul bind. Once we break Marina’s power over me, she won’t have a reason to stay in Wayside, especially if we show her how clearly she isn’t welcome.”
Lira’s downturned mouth twitched up. “Should I assemble the villagers? Our little armed mob made an impression on the dwarf hunting party that tried to come for Sass.”
Armed might have been overstating it a bit since some of the villagers’ weapons had been cheese knives and fabric shears. He shook his head. “I don’t want to put anyone else at risk. Not unless our hand is forced.”
“If Marina tries to do anything to you or Cali, consider my hand forced,” Lira said, “but I can keep working on the potion cookies if you’re sure that’s the best plan.”
Vaskel wasn’t sure of anything anymore, but he knew his time was running out. “For now. Iris promised to bring the potion here as soon as it was ready.”
Vaskel took another sip of chai, hoping the spicy tea would drown all his worries.