CHAPTER1
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 untilafterthe 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.
