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Bk. 1, Ch. 8.1: Sausage, Secrets, and the Snowflake Thread

  Lacey walked into Mathilda’s cottage from the front, the silence of an empty house folding over her. It almost felt like it was reaching out to welcome her home, glad to see her after a long, empty day. Well, empty afternoon and most of the evening, at least.

  The sight of Cynthie walking out of the workshop, Mathilda leading her on one side and Bethy supporting her on the other, still played through Lacey’s mind. That poor elf. She had taken the failure so hard. And it had happened at the most impossible time. The very last tensioning thread? That was just too bad.

  She barely had time to shrug out of her outside layers, when the kitchen door’s handle turned and opened with a familiar squeak. Peter’s footsteps fell on the kitchen floor as he called out, ‘Ho there, anyone home yet?’

  ‘Hey Peter, I’m here!’ she answered, walking down the little passage to meet him.

  ‘I heard there was an incident at the workshop,’ he said, leaning against the doorframe to pull off his boots, placing them outside in the vestibule.

  News certainly travelled fast up here. Part of village life, Lacey supposed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Cynthie was attempting the masterwork-toy challenge, and it all fell apart on the very last thread of the snowflake-crystal kaleidoscope she was building.’

  Peter winced. ‘That’ll do it. Poor Cynthie.’ He pulled the kitchen door closed and walked over to study the pantry. ‘We’d better pull together supper on our own then. This will be a Healing Hall all-nighter for Mathilda.’

  ‘How did your rounds go?’ Lacey asked.

  ‘Pretty good. Everything’s as it should be, the reindeer are fed and settled, and it looks like we’re in for another clear night.’

  ‘That’s good.’ She studied the pantry uncertainly. Pulling together ready-made things, as she’d been doing over the past few days, was about as far as her cooking expertise stretched.

  Back at Ms Gabby’s grouphome, Lacey had been mostly on clearing-up duty. It was her own preference. There was something about cleaning up a mess and putting everything back in the order it should be, that she found immensely satisfying. She was good at it. She could also chop a mean vegetable, when needed. The actual making something? Not so much. That’s what ready-made meals back on Earth were for. Fast, easy, and she could get back to her ledgers.

  Peter saved her, pulling out sausages and bread. ‘How about we do some spiced pan-fried sausage and cheese toasties? I can handle the sausage if you do the bread.’

  Lacey hesitated, a flicker of incompetence rising. But, it was only cheese toasties. She’d seen the other kids doing it, helping Ms. Gabby at supper.

  ‘Sure,’ she said. Gathering the ingredients, Peter didn’t notice her pause. ‘Just cheese on bread?’

  ‘Well, we usually spread butter on it to help with the toasting, and add a little cranberry jam for a touch of sweetness.’

  That didn’t sound very hard. ‘Will do.’

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  Soon, the kitchen filled with the sizzling of meat and bread, frying on the little stove. Lacey watched curiously as Peter tossed a sliced apple and some cranberry compote into his pan with the sausages. A warm, Christmassy smell spread through the space mixing notes of sweet apple and tart berry amidst a deep base of browning meat.

  The ever-present sweetenings at every meal still intrigued her. Although some were much too sugary for her normal taste, she had filed away a few combinations to try back at home. Should she ever feel like cooking, that was.

  The cranberry-cheese sandwich in her pan began spattering. She frowned. It seemed a bit more smoky than usual.

  ‘Here’s where you turn the heat down,’ Peter helpfully supplied, reaching in front of her to twist a knob below the gas hob. ‘These gas stoves heat so quickly.’

  Her heart raced a little at how close he stood to her. ‘They sure do,’ she said with a little smile, pushing the spatula below the two sandwiches to lift and flip them. One of the corners was a little blackened. She casually picked up a knife and gave it a quick scrape.

  Peter began whistling a light tune, focusing on the sausages. Had he noticed? Of course he had. But he didn’t look at her skillet, instead stirring his ingredients with a culinary expertise that Lacey wished she possessed.

  ‘Shall we catch up on our mystery?’ he asked, once they sat down with their food plated in front of them.

  ‘That’ll be good. Have you picked up anything new while you were out?’

  He leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. ‘I rewalked the Ice Dove trail this afternoon, and looked again at where we found the scrap of her coat.’ Spearing an apple piece, he studied it from all sides as he spoke. ‘You know, the place doesn’t make sense. It’s too far off the track for it to snag naturally, and, as we’ve already said, the material’s too thick for it to easily tear off anyway. I’m starting to lean more toward that it was planted there for us. And if that’s the case, I’m thinking that it was probably chosen to implicate Albyrne.’

  Lacey nodded. ‘I think I agree. There’s something else as well. Today, in the workshop, Danji had a look on her face when I mentioned Bethy having seen Albyrne leave on Starday. It’s got me thinking that maybe Bethy didn’t see Albyrne leave? It doesn’t make sense, because I’m just about completely sure Albyrne wasn’t involved. But why would Bethy say she saw him at the workshop if she hadn’t?’

  ‘Albyrne is definitely innocent. If there was any guilt, Santa would’ve seen it when he spoke to him afterwards. As for Danji, maybe it’s not about Bethy. Could it’ve been something else bothering her?’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible, but I don’t know what it would be.’

  Speaking of Danji, reminded Lacey of something else. ‘Hey, Danji smelled of glühwein today in the workshop, but I never saw her have any. Does she often drink during the day?’

  Peter sighed as he dipped a piece of his toasty in the sausage glaze and rubbed it around. ‘It sounds like she might be day-drinking again. That’s a shame. You know, on some level it’s not completely her fault. Her family are some of this sphere’s best glühwein makers and it’s a part of all their daily activities.

  ‘Unfortunately, Danji somehow ended up with both their love of it and a constitution that doesn’t bear it very well. She had just returned from a visit, right before you got here too. I suppose she must’ve picked up the taste again.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lacey said, feeling a new sympathy for her. It was so easy to judge just looking at the surface, but the more she learned about the elves surrounding Jinxy, the more she felt for each of them. Bethy’s emotions, Cynthie’s perfectionism, and now Danji’s difficult inheritance. She guessed that was part of everyone’s story, both the admirable traits and the flaws. Unbidden, another thought rose. Was that true of Cassie too?

  She shoved it away and moved on, saying, ‘Well, I can also add two other titbits. It seems like Elf might’ve been at Bethy’s house when Mathilda was there, and for some reason she hadn’t wanted her to know. I also learned that Cynthie and Jinxy were competing for Master Toymaker ranking. That sounds important enough that Cynthie might’ve wanted to delay Jinxy’s progress?’

  Peter slowly chewed. ‘Possible, but I don’t know. I’ve always experienced Cynthie and Jinxy as honest competitors. I think they both would prefer to succeed on their own merits rather than sabotage.

  ‘This time of year, though? Emotions do get heightened as the pressure of the coming Christmas Eve rises. Let’s not discount it just yet.’

  ??????

  Village Rumour of the Day:

  “Two helpers were spotted making cheese-toasties in Mathilda’s kitchen tonight… eyewitnesses report cranberry jam and a suspicious amount of smiling.”

  If you lived here, what tiny rumour would you start after today’s events?

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