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.
