Chapter 3
Night had fallen over Wayside, and with it came the magic Lira had been hoping for.
The luminaries glowed along the dirt road, and the silver and gold streamers caught the light from the hanging lanterns. Lute music drifted through the snow-crisped air, and a minstrel’s song warbled as villagers clapped.
The entire village had turned out for the festival, along with visitors from neighboring settlements.
Halflings from Elmshire mingled with gnomes and orcs and even a few ogres.
Laughter and conversation filled the air, along with boots crunching through snow and wagon wheels creaking over frozen ground.
Lira adjusted the basket hooked over her arm, the paper bags of spiced shortbread rustling as she moved through the crowd. Beside her, Sass carried an identical basket, this one filled with ginger cookies, though the dwarf’s had already been depleted by half from enthusiastic festival-goers.
“Solstice shortbread, ginger starbursts!” Sall called. “Two bits a bag.”
“I like the names you made up.” Lira exchanged a bag of shortbread for a gnome’s coins.
“Aye, proper names make them sound fancier,” Sass said, eyeing her dwindling supply. “We should have made more. At this rate, we’ll be out before the midnight candle lighting.”
“There’s more in the tavern,” Lira assured her, though privately she was thinking the same thing. She’d underestimated how many people would come, and how far the news of the solstice celebration would spread. “Vaskel’s keeping watch over the reserves.”
As if summoned by his name, a group of villagers passed them carrying steaming mugs of mulled wine, the spiced aroma wafting behind them.
Vaskel was inside The Tusk & Tail, stationed behind the bar and across from the roaring fire and ladling out spiced wine and sugared nuts to anyone who ventured in from the cold.
The Hellkin had volunteered for the position with surprising enthusiasm, though Lira suspected it was because he relished holding court at the bar.
“Lira! Sass!” Pip’s cheerful voice rang out, and the halfling baker appeared from the crowd, his round face flushed from hours at his ovens. “Have you tried my solstice buns yet? I used honey from Elmshire and dried cherries to recreate an old halfling recipe.”
“Not yet,” Lira admitted, “but they smell wonderful.”
Pip beamed and pressed a paper bag into her free hand. “This one’s for you and Sass. Can’t have you passing out treats all night without having some yourself.” He winked at them before disappearing back into the crowd, already calling out greetings to other villagers.
Sass peered at the brown bag. “Think we can eat and walk at the same time?”
“I think we’d better try,” Lira said, pulling out a sugar-crusted bun studded with ruby-red cherries. She handed it to Sass before grabbing the other for herself.
The bun was soft and yeasty, sugary and rich, with the tart cherries cutting the sweetness. Lira closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste and the warmth spreading through her chest that wasn’t entirely pastry related.
This was what she’d wanted. This sense of community, of celebration, of everyone coming together on the longest night to share in something hopeful.
A familiar presence at her elbow made her open her eyes. Korl stood beside her, his dark eyes reflecting the light from the luminaries.
“Having fun?” Lira asked, offering him her half-eaten bun.
He took it, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “It’s nice.”
Coming from Korl, that was high praise. Lira smiled and shifted her basket so she could loop her free arm through his. They continued walking together through the festival, handing out shortbread to anyone who wanted some and accepting compliments and thanks in return.
Nearby, Sass had found Val, and the two were walking close together, their heads bent in conversation. Val’s blonde hair caught the lamplight, and even from a distance, Lira could see the soft expression on the guardswoman’s face as she looked at the dwarf.
“They look happy,” Korl observed.
“They do,” Lira agreed. Her heart squeezed with affection for her friend. Sass had come so far from the tired, wary dwarf she’d first encountered at The Tusk & Tail. Now she walked with her head high, secure in her place in Wayside and in Val’s affections.
Lira and Korl followed the current of the crowd toward the village square and the bonfire.
She caught glimpses of familiar faces in the crowd.
There was Iris with her wild curls and colorful clothes, Tinpin gesticulating enthusiastically while talking to a group of gnomes, and Klaff and Vorto standing head and shoulders above everyone else, their bald heads reflecting the moonlight.
The bonfire stood in the center of the square, an enormous pile of timber and branches that Rog and Thrain had spent hours assembling. It reached higher than Lira was tall, carefully constructed so it would burn hot and bright for hours.
A hush fell over the crowd as Durn stepped forward with a blazing torch. Lira was glad the former tavern owner was lighting the bonfire. If anyone in the village represented rebirth after darkness, it was the man who’d once been mired in sadness but had found his way out.
He beamed at the pretty gnome, who was now his wife, before turning to the crowd. “On this longest night, we welcome back the light!”
“We welcome back the light!” the crowd echoed.
Durn touched the torch to the base of the bonfire, and flames immediately licked up the dry wood. Within moments, the entire structure was ablaze, sending sparks spitting up into the dark sky.
The heat hit Lira even from where she stood, making her cheeks flush and her eyes water slightly. But it was a glorious beacon against the winter darkness, and a promise that even the longest night would end.
Memories of solstice festivals with her gran washed over Lira, but instead of making her melancholy, she suddenly felt that her gran was there with her.
Her gran lived on in the recipes Lira now used, in the kindness she’d shown to so many in Wayside, and in the love of village traditions she’d passed on.
Lira blinked back tears as happy memories swirled around her. Her gran wasn’t gone. Not really. Not as long as she continued to remember her, continued to share her recipes, and continued to love her friends as fiercely as her gran had loved and protected her.
The crowd cheered, and the minstrels struck up a jaunty tune, snapping Lira from her mental wanderings. Some people began to dance, spinning and laughing in the firelight. Children darted between adults, shrieking with delight. And everywhere, the sense of joy was palpable.
Lira was just thinking that the night couldn’t get more perfect when she saw Erindil.
Her uncle was pushing through the crowd, his usual grace abandoned in favor of speed. His fur-lined robe was askew, his silver hair was mussed, and his mouth was pinched.
“Lira!” He reached her, slightly breathless. “Thank the heavens I found you.”
Korl immediately shifted position, placing himself slightly between Lira and the elf in an unconsciously protective gesture. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Glen!” Erindil fluttered one hand to his forehead. “He’s gone! Vanished! Disappeared!”
Lira took her uncle’s arm, steering him slightly away from the crowd. Korl followed, his expression darkening. “What do you mean, gone?”
“I left him tethered at the campsite.” Erindil’s words tumbled over each other.
“I thought I’d let him rest while I came to enjoy the festival for a bit.
But when I returned to fetch him so he could enjoy a stroll through the festivities, he was gone!
The tether was still there, but his jeweled harness has been abandoned, and Glen himself had vanished! ”
A battle ostrich loose in Wayside. Glen was large, easily spooked despite his fearsome title, and prone to eating things he shouldn’t.
And with the festival in full swing, there were more people around than usual, which meant more noise and more chaos.
A giant, agitated bird was the last thing the evening needed.
“He probably just wandered off,” Korl suggested. “Maybe the noise bothered him.”
“Glen never wanders off!” Erindil insisted, his voice rising slightly. “He is a battle ostrich, after all. He stays where I put him. Always. Something must have happened. Someone must have—” He broke off, pressing a hand to his chest as if to calm his racing heart.
The commotion had drawn attention. Sass and Val appeared at Lira’s side, followed quickly by Cali, Vaskel, and Pip.
“A missing ostrich?” Pip said, brow furrowing. “Oh dear.”
Lira’s mind was already working through the problem.
It was unusual for such an enormous creature to vanish, especially when he was tied up.
Her thoughts immediately went to who might have taken him and why.
The back of her neck prickled at the thought that someone had come to Wayside intent on kidnapping her uncle’s ostrich.
It wouldn’t be the first time those with nefarious intent had snuck into the village.
“Why don’t we search the area before we panic,” she said, putting a hand on her uncle’s arm. “He might have gotten spooked by the festival and be hiding somewhere.”
Korl nodded. “Val and I can check the road leading to the castle. If Glen headed that way, maybe the guards saw something.”
“Good,” Lira said. “Cali, can you use your tracking skills around the village? Look for tracks, disturbed snow, anything that might show which way he went.”
Or was taken, she thought, but didn’t say.
The Pantheri’s ears twitched forward. “On it.” She slipped through the crowd, her tail already twitching like it did when she was on the prowl.
Thrain pushed forward, Rog at his side. The dwarf’s dark beard had been braided for the occasion, but loose strands had already sprung free. “Rog and I will check the forest. If the bird headed for the trees, we’ll find him.”
“Be careful,” Lira warned. The forest was an ideal place for brigands to hide, especially ones who might be keen on kidnapping.
“We’ll bring blades,” Rog rumbled. “And maybe some of Rosie’s oatcakes to use as lure. Don’t know a beast alive that would turn down Rosie’s cooking.”
Vaskel appeared with Iris at his side. The Hellkin’s eyes flashed, making him look every bit the infernal being. “What’s this I hear about the ostrich vanishing?”
Lira had crewed with Vaskel long enough to know that when his crimson brow wrinkled and his tail slashed behind him, he was expecting danger. As if sensing the same thing, Iris rested a hand gently on his arm.
“We’ll search the stables and alleys. He might have taken shelter somewhere warm.” She turned and tugged Vaskel with her, her voluminous skirts jingling softly.
Lira nodded her approval, grateful for how quickly everyone had mobilized. She turned to Erindil, whose face had regained a bit of color. “We’ll find him. Glen couldn’t have gone far, and he’s rather noticeable.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Sass muttered from beside her. “A lavender ostrich? He’s about as subtle as Rosie’s apple brandy.”
The comment earned a few chuckles from the gathered villagers, and Lira saw some of the tension leave Erindil’s shoulders. The elf managed a weak smile. “He is rather distinctive, isn’t he?”
“Exactly,” Sass continued, warming to her theme. “Which means someone must have seen him. An ostrich that noticeable couldn’t hide easily. We’ll find your bird, Erindil. You can count on it.”
Val rested a hand on her sword hilt, her expression serious but confident. “We should get moving. The sooner we search, the sooner we’ll have Glen back where he belongs.”
Korl nodded his agreement and turned to Lira. For a moment, his hand found hers and squeezed gently, reassurance and farewell rolled into one silent gesture. Then he was moving, Val at his side, as they took long strides toward the bridge and the castle beyond.
The other search parties dispersed just as quickly.
Thrain and Rog headed for the forest edge, their voices carrying as they debated the best strategy for ostrich tracking.
Vaskel and Iris were already halfway down the main road, checking the shadows between buildings.
Cali, true to form, had slipped stealthily into the darkness.
Lira released a breath. It was just a missing ostrich. They would find him. Everything would be fine.
But as she looked at Erindil’s worried face, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. On a night when the entire village was distracted by celebration, when security was lax and attention was divided, had Glen been snatched?
Lira gave her head a rough shake. Why would anyone want to birdnap Glen? Aside from his impressive appearance, he was haughty, pompous, and very spoiled.
No, she was overthinking it. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation that did not involve subterfuge, malice, or evil plots. Sometimes an ostrich wandering off was just an ostrich wandering off. Right?