I got a full night's rest, blessedly free of Morthisal's influence. Not waking up to half your tavern in tatters was a definite plus.

A few recipe ideas floated through my head as potential items to serve for Market Day. I'd settled on something fun, but needed to do a little footwork to track down the ingredients. My dish would need to be original, able to be cooked quickly, and get people talking.

There was only one day left to plan, and plan I would.

Roland had been cheerful and accommodating in finding me a location. There was a small fee attached, however, it was only a few silvers. I'd also had to promise to save him some of whatever I cooked, and I was happy to agree to those terms.

----------------------------------------

I left my crew to do the prep work while I headed to the outskirts of Everspring to locate one crucial ingredient. Before that, I needed to visit Shell at The Jolly Cleaver to inquire about a particular kind of sausage.

I found an unexpected sight as I descended the stairs into the tavern's main room. The cat, which I'd barely seen in the past week, lounged on the bar top next to where Ophelia's ghost sat. She waved her hands, trying to shoo the feline away, but it remained stubbornly in place.

"Go on, you mangy creature," Ophelia hissed.

The cat's gaze flicked to where she sat, then back to me. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he could sense the ghost's presence.

"Good morning, my ghostly friends," I said, approaching the bar.

"Morning, Varix," Garin replied from his usual spot.

Lady Ophelia sat, arms crossed, staring at the cat.

I turned my attention to the feline, scratching behind its ears. "And where have you been hiding, you little psycho rat chaser?" The cat had nearly doubled in size since I'd last seen him. His fur gleamed, healthy and well-groomed.

"He stays with your goblin, darling," Ophelia informed me, her tone tinged with annoyance.

"Her name is Lady Churl, and she's not my goblin. She's my friend."

Lady Ophelia waved her hand, annoyed. "Yes. Yes. A friend to every green skin you come across. Morthisal would find your behavior appalling."

"Morth ain't here, Ophelia. He's… I don't know. Somewhere. Probably in my body on my old world with no job, and he's probably been evicted from my—I mean his—apartment. Unless he's in the loony bin. Or what you'd call a mad house. I'm sure you're familiar with those."

"You don't have to be rude," Ophelia said sharply.

I laughed. What was she going to do?

The cat purred, arching its back as I ran my hand along its spine. I headed to the kitchen to retrieve a small piece of white fish from the cooler. Returning to the bar, I offered the morsel to the cat, who accepted it eagerly.

"You need a name," I mused, stroking its head.

Ophelia sniffed. "How about 'Evil'? The cat clearly doesn't like me."

"He's got taste, that one." Garin chuckled.

"You're a good kitty," I assured him.

A stray bit of fish skin remained on the bar. The cat batted at it with its paw, sending it flying towards Ophelia's chair. She recoiled with a dramatic gasp.

"Your cat is a menace," she declared.

Garin's laughter filled the room.

I smiled, an idea forming. "I wonder what his problem is with you?"

"I assume it's your fault."

"Me?" I asked Ophelia. "I've barely seen him. Maybe he can sense evil."

Ophelia gasped.

"I think I've thought of a name for you," I told the cat, while I scratched it between the ears.

"Infernal beast?" Ophelia suggested.

"No," I replied. "Morth."

Garin erupted into another fit of laughter while Ophelia's expression darkened. Before she could voice her displeasure, I gave the newly christened Morth a final pat.

"Well, I'm off to run some errands," I announced. "Have a good morning, you two."

Ophelia's indignant protests faded behind me as I headed for the door. I opened it and stepped out into the street.

The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across Everspring's streets. I left The Shadow's Respite and headed towards the edge of the village where the mill stood. It was a large wooden structure with an impressive waterwheel turning steadily in the nearby stream. The mill's stone foundation supported thick wooden beams that rose to form the walls and peaked roof. The rhythmic creaking of the wheel and the soft rush of water filled the air.

I located the door and knocked. After a moment, a woman opened it and introduced herself as Gerta. She had a warm smile and a welcoming demeanor.

"Good morning," I said. "I'm Varix, the new owner of The Shadow's Respite."

"Oh, I've heard about you and what you've done to the old tavern. I knew Heron when we were younger. It's a shame he passed away at sixty-two years old. He was a fine man. Have you met his wife, Henna? Lovely woman, a bit confused, but very sharp about some things," Gerta said. "Listen to me nattering on. Welcome to Everspring. How can I help you today?"

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

We exchanged pleasantries for a few moments before I got to the purpose of my visit. "I was wondering if you grind corn for feed here?"

"Indeed I do," Gerta replied. "It's one of our specialties."

"Excellent. How finely can you grind it?"

Gerta smiled. "Why don't you come in, and I'll show you how it works? You may find it quite fascinating."

"You are right about that," I said honestly.

I followed her inside and was immediately struck by the earthy smell of grain and the constant low rumble of the millstones. Gerta led me to where two large circular stones lay horizontally, one atop the other. The top stone rotated slowly, driven by the power of the waterwheel outside.

"The grain goes in here," Gerta explained, pointing to a hole in the center of the top stone. "As it's crushed between the stones, it works its way outward and falls into this trough."

I admit I was pretty mesmerized by her demonstration of the process. The simplicity of the mechanism was impressive.

"That's remarkable," I said. "I don't suppose you could grind up a bag of dried corn for me? I need it fine, but it's still a little grainy. Almost like flour."

Gerta nodded. "Aye. I can do that. If you want to return, it can be ready for you in about an hour."

"I can do that. How much for a bag? Oh…" I trailed off and looked over her collection of thick, rough-spun bags, finding one that would hold about two or three pounds.

"Just a small one. I'll do it for six silver."

"Fantastic," I said, paid her for her services, and thanked her for her quick work.

"It's no bother. Can I ask what you're using it for? Is it for liquor?"

"No. It's for cooking. I'll have a stall at The Market Day. If you stop by, I will ensure you get a sample."

"Wonderful. I look forward to it."

As I left the mill, I had some time to spare and decided to wander the streets of Everspring. If Seraphina weren't busy with work this morning, I would have popped into her store.

Everspring was coming to life as I walked, with people bustling about their morning routines. I greeted those I passed, receiving warm smiles and friendly waves. I don't think I would ever get over how pleasant it was to walk down these streets, surrounded by so many happy faces.

My next stop was Shell's butcher shop, The Jolly Cleaver. Shell was behind the counter with Caden leaning against the wall, arms crossed, laughing at something Shell had said.

"Good morning, you two," I said.

Shell wiped her hands on her apron and came around the counter.

"Varix! How are you?" she asked.

"I'm doing well, thanks. How about you both? It seems like every time I visit, Caden is here."

"I do have a regular job, Varix." Caden laughed and turned to look at Shell. "I like to spend every free moment I can with you."

Shellen's face flushed, and she smiled softly at Caden. "And I with you."

I knew that look all too well because that was exactly how I looked at Seraphina.

"I'm happy for you both."

"And how about you and Seraphina?" Caden asked.

"Seraphina and I are officially a couple now," I said, wondering whether that phrasing was appropriate here.

"Official? As if it were ever a question. You two were drawn to each other the first time I saw you together. Like you had some unspoken bond that no one else understood."

If you only knew.

Shell clapped her hands together. "I'm so happy for you, Varix."

After a moment of pleasant conversation, I got down to business. "Shell, I need a much milder sausage than those I've been purchasing. Do you have anything like that? If it's made with pork, that would be even better."

"Hmmm. I have something like that, but it's not very spicy. Let me check the big cooler," she said, heading to the back room.

"Oh, Caden. I almost forgot. One of my chairs has a broken arm. Can you come by and take a look at it?"

"I can stop by later today with my tools. What happened?"

"Oh. Just someone horsing around."

"I heard about the orc boy. Was it him?"

Thinking fast, I said, "Nah. It was just an accident involving my cat. I named the little devil Morth."

Caden laughed and said, "Little devil indeed. So what's that like?"

"What?"

"The young orc. What's it like with him there?"

"Oh," I said. "Do you remember being a moody teenager? Maybe your parents would ask you to do something, a chore, but you had so many other seemingly important things to do?"

"I do, indeed."

"Imagine that in a six-and-a-half-foot-tall young orc."

Caden burst into laughter, then said, "I meant more like, what's it like to work with an orc at all?"

"He can get stuff off the tallest shelves. Grondak can move the heaviest boxes, and I think he has a crush on Jessara, my new server."

"Milo's sister?"

"The same." I nodded.

Shell returned with some samples on a small wooden platter. "I made these yesterday. Old Man Guslan likes these the most. I can usually count on him to buy a dozen a week."

I took one and tasted it. The texture and flavor were good, with a strong hint of garlic and other spices. "These are delicious. I see why Guslan buys them in bulk. They'll do perfectly."

"How many do you need? I won't be able to have them ready until tomorrow afternoon."

"How many can I take right now?"

"I can set you up with about two dozen."

"Could I get at least a hundred tomorrow?"

Shell whistled and looked up, doing some mental calculations. "That's quite an order."

"I can help." Caden offered.

"Ah, that's sweet. I don't want to impose on your time," Shellen told Caden. "We'll have to work late."

"I don't mind. I have a few jobs this morning, and I will check out the new orc fort this afternoon, but that won't take long. Alic wants me to look at it and ensure they're not up to anything nefarious, just in case. Mira is going to join the workforce, as well. Get a look at the inside of the fort."

"I doubt they're doing anything other than what they said," I assured Caden.

"And I was sure I wouldn't be fighting orcs and the other forces of the dark lord for two and half years."

I nodded once. "Point taken."

While I was convinced the orcs were being true to their word, it would take a long time before they were openly trusted. Sure, they had helped save EverSpring from bandits, but they were still the same creatures who had been attacking the village just a few months ago.

Shellen returned with my sausage. I paid for my purchase and wished her and Caden a good day. Caden assured me he would be by later to fix the broken chair.

After stopping at Gerta's to pick up the corn meal, I returned to The Shadow's Respite with my treasures.

Milo and Lady Churl were already busy chopping vegetables for today's stew. I'd trained them both so well they could make it independently, which took the burden off me. Jessara would also be in later to help, but not until the dinner crew arrived.

Lady Churl greeted me as I entered the kitchen. "Oi, boss. Reckon you got some shopping out of the way early."

"What's that?" Milo asked as I placed my two packages on the counter.

"We're going to make something new today and test it on a few individuals, like both of you. I call them mini corndogs. Then we're going to sell them at Market Day, make a little extra money, and hopefully attract more customers to The Shadow's Respite."

Milo stopped and dropped his knife. "Ew, Mr. V.! Corndogs? I like dogs. I can't eat one."

"I like 'em too," Lady Churl added.

"Oh," I said, surprised because I should have seen that coming. "They're not made with dogs. I promise. They're made with sausage dipped in a sweet corn meal batter and deep-fried. You're going to love them. But you're right. They need a rebrand."