Chapter 46: SHINY DAGGER
The return to Elderglen was loud, and aggressively triumphant.
The moment the two heavy handcarts rolled through the gates, the entire village swarmed us. The sight of refined silver ingots and overflowing chests of gold brought the settlement to a grinding halt. Within minutes, a crowd of cheering hunters, wide-eyed children, and relieved elders surrounded the carts.
I slipped away from the center of the mob while Korin was busy taking full credit for the hauling strategy. I spotted Lyra standing on the porch of her cabin. The door banged open behind her.
Mira shot out of the cabin like an arrow loosed from a bow. She ignored the mountain of silver. She locked her big green eyes on me and marched down the steps.
"Did you bring it?" Mira demanded, holding out both of her small hands.
"I told you I would," I said.
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the polished dagger. The massive, gaudy ruby embedded in the hilt caught the afternoon sun, throwing red light across the snow.
Mira gasped. "A sword," she whispered, taking it from my hands with absolute awe. I wanted to correct her that it was a dagger but who cares.
"Ren."
I looked up. Lyra was standing at the bottom of the steps. The ledger was lowered. Her eyes were fixed squarely on the silver blade in her six-year-old daughter’s hands.
"Hey, Lyra," I offered a casual, entirely innocent smile. "The treasury was fully stocked."
"You gave my daughter a weapon," Lyra stated. Her voice was deadpan, but her right eyebrow twitched.
"It’s not a weapon," I defended myself quickly. "It’s completely blunt. I checked the edge myself. It couldn’t even cut warm butter."
"I am going to slay the ocean monster!" Mira yelled, stabbing the air in front of her with terrifying enthusiasm.
"Who gives a six year old a weapon?," Lyra said, taking a slow step toward me.
"She said she wanted a shiny treasure," I reasoned, taking a step backward. "I am simply fulfilling a contractual obligation. It’s basically a heavy spoon. A pointy paperweight."
Lyra didn’t bother to argue with me. She simply stepped past me, knelt down, and smoothly plucked the dagger out of Mira’s hands before the girl could even register the movement.
"Hey!" Mira protested loudly.
"Inside," Lyra pointed toward the cabin door.
Mira looked at the empty space in her hands, then looked at her mother. Realizing it was a battle she could not win, her little shoulders slumped. She let out a highly exaggerated, tragic sigh and marched up the steps, her tail dragging in the snow.
Lyra stood back up, holding the dagger safely by her side. "You are a terrible influence on her," she said.
"What? I’m an excellent influence," I corrected. "I’m encouraging her dreams."
Lyra shook her head, letting out a soft sigh. "You’re lucky I have to go catalog the loot right now. I made too much stew for dinner. There’s a pot on the stove. Come eat when you’re done avoiding Korin."
She didn’t wait for an answer. She just turned and walked toward the village square.
My stomach gave a loud, demanding rumble.
Stew it is.
Dinner was a disaster. Not the food. The stew was incredibly thick, hearty, and seasoned with actual spices from the Guild merchants instead of just mountain salt. The fresh bread was warm and practically melted in my mouth.
The disaster was sitting directly across the table from me.
Mira had been entirely too quiet for the last twenty minutes. She was staring a hole into the high wooden shelf above the fireplace, where Lyra had placed the ruby-hilted dagger well out of reach.
Lyra was currently standing by the kitchen counter, her back turned to us as she poured three cups of spiced cider.
A sharp kick connected with my shin under the table. I kept chewing my bread, slowly lowering my eyes to look at Mira.
She leaned forward, dropping her voice into a conspiratorial, raspy whisper. "Distract her."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"When she turns around," Mira whispered, her eyes darting between me and her mother’s back. "You drop your spoon. When she looks, I will climb the chair and get my weapon."
"That is a terrible plan," I whispered back, leaning in slightly. "You lack the vertical leap. The chair will wobble. She’ll hear you."
Mira narrowed her eyes, completely offended by my tactical critique. "Then you lift me."
"I am not making myself an accomplice to your crimes," I whispered.
"I will give you half my candy."
I paused. That was an offer I couldn’t resist.
"What are you two whispering about?" Lyra asked casually, turning around with the mugs of cider.
"Nothing," Mira and I said in unison, instantly sitting up perfectly straight.
Lyra stopped walking. She looked at Mira and then she looked at me.
"Are you two conspiring something behind my back?" Lyra asked.
"Ren was!," Mira said immediately, pointing directly at me.
My jaw dropped. The absolute betrayal. "I did no such thing!" I protested, looking at Lyra. "She tried to bribe me with sugar rocks to lift her to the shelf so she could take her dagger back!"
"I am six!" Mira yelled, slamming her hands on the table. "You are the adult! You are supposed to take the blame!"
Lyra stared at us for three long seconds. Then, she turned her head toward the ceiling and let out a bright, ringing laugh.
"Eat your stew, both of you," Lyra ordered, setting the mugs down, still smiling widely. "Or I’m throwing the dagger into the river."
Mira gasped, immediately grabbing her spoon and eating at a terrifying speed to protect her precious loot.
I looked down at my bowl, a small grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.
An hour later, the heist had completely exhausted the mastermind.
Mira was fast asleep in her small bed in the corner of the cabin, a half-eaten piece of bread still clutched in her hand. The cabin was warm, filled with the soft crackle of the fireplace and the quiet hum of the winter wind outside.
Lyra was sitting by Mira’s bed, gently pulling the blanket up over her daughter’s shoulders.
I stood up from the table. It was time to leave, but the table was covered in empty bowls, spoons, and crumbs. I looked at the mess, then looked at the wash basin sitting on the counter. Maybe I should help her out a bit
