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?
CHAPTER4
“What should we do now that everyone is searching for Glen?” Erindil asked, looking quite lost as the festival music continued around us, with villagers who were unaware of the missing ostrich dancing merrily around the bonfire.
“I know what you need.” Sass took the elf by the elbow. “A nice, hot beverage by a warm fire. There’s nary a chill that a cup of chai can’t banish.”
Lira was grateful that the dwarf was steering her uncle back toward the tavern. Leave it to Sass to know just how to make everyone feel better. As much as she wanted to join them by the tavern’s hearth, there was something she had to do first.
“I’ll meet you inside,” she said to Sass as they neared the Tusk & Tail, peeling off and making her way to the campsite behind the tavern. The colorful tents looked strangely abandoned in the darkness, their silk sides roiling in the icy breeze. The fire pit in the center had burned to coals, and even the lute player wasn’t perched on his usual stool. Her uncle’s entire traveling party must still be at the festival, which made it easier to look for clues.
She found the tether easily enough, and she examined the length of braided leather attached to a golden stake driven into the frozen ground. Beside it lay Glen’s harness, the jewels winking in the dim light.
Lira crouched down to examine it, her trained eyes scouring the area before she picked it up. The harness wasn’t torn, but the buckle was loose. She fastened it and then yanked, watching as the mechanism popped open.
Sadly, this meant she was right back where she’d started. Glen might have pulled himself free and wandered away, or someone might have freed him.
She stood slowly, scanning the area around the tether point. Many feet had trampled the snow, none of the prints appearing any fresher than any other. But there, just beyond the circle of disturbed snow, she caught sight of something.
Feathers.
Lira moved carefully, not wanting to disturb any other evidence. Three lavender feathers caught on a low bramble bush, pointing like an arrow toward the stone bridge. She followed the direction, her eyes sweeping the ground for more signs.
Another feather twenty paces away, this one stuck in a patch of snow. Then another, caught on the corner of Rog and Rosie’s wagon, which was dark and quiet since both gnomes were at the festival. The partially ajar back door and a broken bottle of brandy on the ground told her they’d been in a hurry to get there.
