Solstice, Spice & Everything Nice (Tales from the Tavern #3)

Chapter 1

The pre-dawn darkness wrapped around Lira like a familiar cloak as she eased her way down the narrow stairs from the rooms above the tinker's workshop. Her breath formed small clouds in the frigid air, and she tugged her woolen cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

Behind her, Korl's boots softly scuffed the wooden steps. The orc moved with surprising grace for someone so large, though the stairs still creaked under his weight. She glanced back to find him watching her with those dark eyes that always made her pulse quicken.

“You're certain you want to come?" she whispered, even though there was no one to wake in the workshop below. "The tavern will be chaos today."

Korl grunted softly, which she'd learned to interpret as his version of "I wouldn't miss it." He reached for her hand as they descended the last few steps, his fingers warm and calloused against hers. “Things might be quiet now, but there have been too many surprises in Wayside lately.”

Lira thought that was a gentle way to phrase a dark mage, a vengeful fiancée, and a dragon.

Although all threats had been dispatched, she didn’t blame her fiancé for his caution.

Considering all the new arrivals to the town and their mysterious pasts, it was impossible to know whose misdeeds might catch up to them.

She shook off this thought as they made their way through the silent shop and out the door.

The couple emerged into the winter morning, and Lira had to suppress a gasp of delight. Snow had fallen overnight, dusting the thatched roofs with what looked like powdered sugar and adorning the eaves with glistening icicles.

The village was still asleep, windows dark and chimneys just beginning to cough drowsy spirals of smoke into the azure sky. But Lira could feel the anticipation thrumming beneath the quiet, the way the air seemed to hold its breath before a storm.

The day of the Winter Solstice Festival had finally arrived. After the success of the Harvest Festival, she'd been anticipating this celebration for weeks, her mind buzzing with ideas for sweet treats that would mark the longest night and herald the coming of longer days.

The shorter days had everyone in the village looking forward to tonight's celebration and to the symbolic return of the light.

There was something hopeful about the solstice, something that made even the coldest winter morning feel full of promise.

She dragged in a breath of crisp air that held the hint of more snow, hoping that it would hold off until after the celebration.

As they made their way through the sleeping village, Lira caught movement inside Pip's bakery.

She lifted her hand in a wave, and the halfling baker's round face broke into a grin as he waved back from inside.

His bakery wasn't open yet, but she could already smell the sugar and warmth emanating from his ovens.

The scent mingled with the icy air and nip of burning peat, creating a perfume that was distinctly Wayside.

"He woke up even earlier than we did,” Lira said, her voice soft with affection for the tireless baker.

Korl’s grunt held a tone of admiration. "He works hard."

"So will we, before this day is through." Lira picked up her pace, suddenly eager to reach The Tusk & Tail Tavern and begin the proper work of the day.

“Look at the bridge," Korl murmured, his hand tightening around hers as they approached the stone arch that crossed the stream.

Ice had turned the weathered stones treacherous, and Lira was glad they didn’t need to cross it to reach the tavern.

As they walked alongside the stream, the water gurgled and splashed around chunks of ice, the sound muffled and musical in the winter stillness.

Moonlight still cavorted on the dark surface, though it was fading fast as dawn approached.

The tavern loomed ahead, the wooden sign creaking faintly. Evergreen garlands draped over the door, and the scent of pine mixed with the lingering aroma of fatty meat cracklings and pungent ale as they approached. Lira pushed open the heavy door, and warmth spilled out to greet them.

The great room was dark and quiet, chairs slumbering neatly under tables, the wood plank floor swept clean, and the fire in the hearth only a glowing heap of embers. But it wasn't empty. Not quite.

From the kitchen came a soft chittering sound that made Lira smile. “Sass might be sleeping, but Crumpet's already awake."

They made their way through the half-doors into the kitchen, and sure enough, the white flutter-stoat perched on the windowsill, his small wings tucked close to his furry body.

His whiskers twitched as he caught sight of them, and he chattered excitedly before launching himself into the air and landing on Lira's shoulder with practiced ease.

"Good morning to you too," Lira said, reaching up to scruff the fur on top of his head. "I suppose you're ready to taste-test everything today?"

Crumpet chirped in what could only be interpreted as enthusiastic agreement.

Korl moved to the cold stove and began coaxing it awake.

He'd built the thing himself, and it still amazed Lira how much he preferred tinkering with gadgets to wielding a sword.

His massive hands worked with surprising delicacy as he adjusted the flue and added kindling, his dark brow furrowed in concentration.

"I'll get the chai started.” Lira pulled a copper pot from the collection dangling over the large worktable before she added milk, then reached for her small bags of spices—cardamom pods, cinnamon sticks, fresh ginger, a few peppercorns, and a touch of star anise. The familiar ritual settled her nerves as she crushed the cardamom pods and broke the cinnamon, releasing their fragrance into the frigid kitchen air that still smelled of last night’s meat pies and hearty stew.

By the time she had the pot on the stove, warmth was already beginning to creep back into the room. Korl straightened and wiped soot from his hands onto a rag.

"Perfect," Lira said, watching the flames dance beneath her pot. "As always."

The faintest hint of dark color rose on Korl's green cheeks, and he turned away quickly, but not before Lira caught the pleased quirk of his lips.

She began pulling out ingredients for the spiced shortbread she'd planned, arranging the flour, butter, sugar, and chai spices neatly in front of her mixing bowl.

The shortbread needed to chill before baking, which meant she had to make it first. Then there would be candied nuts with cinnamon and ginger cookies shaped like suns and moons.

The list was ambitious, but Lira had learned that nothing brought people together quite like good food and the promise of warmth on a cold winter day.

She was measuring flour when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, determined footsteps that could only belong to one person.

"Grognick's beard, it's cold enough to freeze off a dwarf's whiskers," Sass announced as she pushed through the kitchen doors, her dark braid slightly askew and her eyes still heavy with sleep. But there was excitement there too, twinkling beneath the grogginess. "Is that chai I smell?"

"Almost ready," Lira said, nodding toward the pot that was beginning to simmer.

Sass moved to stand near the stove, holding her hands out toward the warmth. She wore a sturdy brown skirt and cream blouse, but Lira detected a hint of the rosewater perfume the village apothecary had given her.

"Val coming by today?" Lira asked.

The tips of Sass's pointed ears turned pink. “Aye, she's on duty tonight for the festival, but she said she might stop by this afternoon."

That was a yes, Lira thought, fighting back a smile as she returned to her shortbread dough.

“Might?” Korl made a rumbling sound that could have been a chuckle, and Sass shot him a look that would have withered a lesser orc. But Korl just shrugged his massive shoulders and bent over to check the stove.

Lira grinned at Korl’s rare, teasing comment. The orc knew few people as well as he knew his fellow guard, Val, since the two had grown up together. That also meant he knew better than most how Val felt about Sass and that she needed little excuse to visit her girlfriend.

Crumpet chittered from his perch on the copper pot rack overhead, and Sass looked up at him with grudging affection. "You're in high spirits this morning, you wee menace."

The flutter-stoat spread his feathered wings in response, shaking them out before tucking them back against his body with an air of great satisfaction.

Lira poured the chai into earthenware mugs, the steam rising in fragrant curls. She handed one to Sass, who wrapped both hands around it and inhaled deeply.

"This is perfect," Sass said after taking a sip. "Just what I needed."

They stood together in the warming kitchen, the three of them and Crumpet, as the world outside the window slowly lightened from indigo to rose to gold. Lira sipped her chai as contentment nestled in her chest.

Sass tossed her braid off her shoulder and walked to the window where she assessed the snow and wrinkled her nose. “Smells like there’s more snow coming.”

Since the dwarf had grown up in the Ice Lands, Lira didn’t doubt her. “I hope not before the festival.”

Sass sniffed. “A blizzard would put a damper on the bonfire.”

Lira almost dropped the mug of chai she was handing to Korl. “A blizzard?”

Sass flapped a hand, setting down her mug and shoving up her sleeves. “Forget I mentioned anything. Snowfall is as mercurial as a dwarf with an empty stomach, which I have, by the way.” She lifted a brow. “Any chance of something to eat that isn’t meant for tonight?”

Lira gestured to her ingredients. "I was going to start with the spice shortbread, then whip up a batch of crumpets for our breakfast.”

“I suppose Pip wasn’t selling lemon sweet rolls when you came in?” Sass asked, her gaze sweeping over the table as if looking for a bakery bag.

“Nor pumpkin ones,” Korl said.

Lira sighed. “It looked like he was busy at work when we passed, but I suspect he’s preparing his solstice treats. I don’t know if he’ll be serving his usual loaves of bread and sweet rolls.”

Sass muttered something about crumpets sufficing in a pinch, which made Lira laugh.

“I hope you aren’t planning on hovering until the crumpets are ready.”

Sass sniffed and took another swallow of chai as she backed out of the kitchen. “I suppose I’ll start the fire in the hearth then get busy finishing our decorations.”

Lira shook her head once the dwarf had gone. Sass loved little more than eating, but she didn’t have the patience for baking.

Korl still hovered nearby, clearly wanting to help but uncertain how. Lira handed him a handful of cinnamon sticks and a smaller empty bowl. "Can you grate these for me?”

He took the bowl, tilting his head as he eyed the brown curls. Then he took one of the cinnamon sticks and crushed it in his enormous hand over the smaller bowl. The cinnamon bark shattered into crumbs and powder, cascading into the bowl below.

Lira blinked at him before grinning. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

As Korl squeezed another of the brown sticks until he had a pile of the sweet spice.

“This is nice," Lira said after a few minutes, her hands working the butter into flour with practiced efficiency. "Just us. Before the chaos starts."

"Before the chaos starts," Korl echoed as he passed her the bowl of cinnamon.

Because chaos would start, probably sooner than either of them expected.

Lira’s elvish uncle Erindil and his traveling party were still camped behind the tavern, which meant that the morning wouldn’t remain quiet for long.

Not only would the elves emerge from their colorful tents to stoke the fire, but the traveling lute player would start to play, and Glen the battle ostrich was sure to emit a screech every now and again.

And somewhere amid the baking and prepping for the late-night festival, Lira had to remember to discuss wedding plans with Korl, though they'd agreed to wait until after the solstice to actually tie the knot. Still, there were decisions to be made. Decisions she’d been putting off.

Lira rolled out her shortbread dough, her hands moving with practiced ease as she considered her procrastination. It was impossible to think of her wedding without thinking of her gran.

Her throat tightened as she thought about all those winter mornings when she'd been young, standing on a stool to reach the counter while her gran guided her hands. But she wasn’t here to guide her any longer, and she wouldn’t be there to walk her down the aisle.

Lira shook off the sadness that threatened to creep in, remembering how much her gran had loved the Solstice Festival. She’d always made the holiday feel special, full of light and hope and the promise that even the longest night would end.

Now Lira was doing the same for Wayside, carrying on a tradition she hadn't even realized she was mourning until she'd started planning for the festival.

“Are you okay?” Korl asked, his dark eyes warm.

Lira nodded, not trusting her voice for a moment. Then she cleared her throat. “Gran loved the solstice. Used to say it was the most magical night of the year."

Korl considered this for a moment before speaking. “She wasn't wrong. There's something about celebrating dark turning to light that makes everything feel possible."

The chai pot bubbled gently on the stove, and Crumpet fluttered from a pot overhead to Lira’s shoulder, chittering softly.

Korl was right. Everything felt possible, including the feeling that her gran wasn’t gone—not really. The woman who’d raised her was still with her in the recipes she’d passed down and the lessons she’d taught. Today, more than on any other day of the year, Lira felt her presence.

She cut the shortbread into neat rectangles and transferred them to a baking sheet. Then she reached for the sugar to dust them, the fine white crystals catching the light like stardust.

"All right," she said, looking at the orc who’d captured her heart with his kindness. "Let's make this a solstice Wayside will never forget."