Page 47 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic

“I’d rather not,” I said, trying to lean in for another kiss.

Barra evaded and reluctantly lowered me to the ground. “I know. But we still should.”

“Why, exactly?” I stepped into his space again and ran one hand up his thigh. Flashing my wickedest grin, I trailed my fingers up up up and over to the laces of his breeches. Before I could even start to untie them, though, he firmly took me by the shoulders and stepped away.

With a pained expression, he said, “You may not want to, but I—I need to discuss some things. With you.”

“Okay, okay.” I raised my hands in a show of innocence. “But couldn’t we just… continue this and talk after?”

Barra shook his head slowly. “No.”

Apprehension, annoyance, and guilt rolled around in my empty stomach, making me queasy. This did not sound good. If we had to have a Talk, I should at least eat something.

“Fine,” I huffed. After unhooking Saho’s lunch basket from the saddlebags, I stomped over to the lake. Barra sighed and followed me, unfurling his blanket out over a soft-looking patch of grass before leading Pebble to the water for a drink.

I plopped down and pulled item after item from the large basket. Two stoppered bottles, a few large golden pasties, plums, nut cake, a watercress salad, a wedge of hard cheese, tiny apples, and a mysterious round breaded object that I couldn’t identify. It was the size of Barra’s fist and heavy. I left that in the basket and grabbed a pasty, taking a huge bite. Delicious. Chicken, potato, carrots, and something spicy that added a bit of a kick to each bite.

Barra joined me on the blanket. He laid out napkins and utensils for us. Oops. I always forgot about stuff like that. I offered him a pasty, and he accepted with a nervous smile. I popped one of the jugs open and took a long swill. A light, refreshing pear juice—perfect.

“Thank the goddesses for Saho, right?” I said, passing Barra the bottle. He grabbed a tin cup from the basket—oops again, Elikki—and poured himself some with a murmured thanks. I held out the other cup and he filled it up for me.

“They certainly found their calling as a cook,” he said.

I nudged the big round thing wrapped in a napkin. “What do we think this is?”

“I know, actually. They packed one for me last time, but the recipe wasn’t quite… perfected yet. They’ve been attempting to create a scotch egg egg.”

Seeing my confusion, he went on, “So their idea was instead of just small individual scotch egg snacks, it would be one massive scotch egg. More filling and satisfying, especially for people like Legus and me. At least that was the concept.”

He took a knife to the center of the breaded ball and began to saw into it. “In the one they gave me last time, the sausage meat wasn’t exactly cooked all the way. But they said they’ve been experimenting more since then.”

The ball finally split open into two halves. Each half showed four eggs—yellow yolks surrounded by their white rings. They were all packed in together with a light green mixture studded with brown bits. I dipped a fork into the mystery mixture to try a tiny nibble. “Mmm! It’s some kind of potato mash! With bacon and… chives, maybe?”

Around all this was the traditional sausage-meat shell—this time it appeared to be cooked to completion—and finally the outer layer of crispy, golden breadcrumbs. “Holy shit.” I gaped at the glorious vision in front of me. Picking up one half, I took an enthusiastic bite. “I think Saho is a genius.”

Barra broke off a piece from the other half with his fork and tentatively tried it. His eyes widened. “Wow, they really did it. This is delicious.”

“I want to write a love poem about this divine creation. An Ode to the Scotch Egg Egg!”

“The Master of All Eggs?”

“The Eggy Extraordinaire!”

“The One True Egg!”

I gulped more pear juice and sighed happily. “Now I just need a little dessert, and another nap, and then I’ll be fully revived.”

“Elikki…” Barra’s voice lost its playfulness. Oh no. He hadn’t forgotten about the Talking.

I chewed more of the egg egg and swallowed. “All right, what’s on your mind?”

Sitting cross-legged next to me, he watched the rippling lake.

“I think we should discuss… everything. What’s going on between us.” He spoke carefully, eyes flicking to check my reaction. “I clearly did something to upset you this morning. And whatever it is, I’m so sorry. But—but I need you to talk to me instead of just shutting down. Can you tell me what you’re feeling? What’s going on?”

He paused, waiting for me to respond. Several minutes went by. In my mind, there was a storm of thoughts—a dozen things I should say—but I also felt terribly blank. Numb.

He tried again, saying, “Everything that happened in the woods—that must have been terrifying for you. I understand why you reacted the way you did. Really, I do. It’s just… you can’t kiss someone like that, here, after ignoring them for hours and then almost stabbing them. Me. You can’t use me like that, as—I don’t know, as a release for your fear and anger and frustration.”