The dandelions pressed close, concerned.She patted the largest one absently."I'm fine.Just...mortified.But fine."
She took a breath and looked at her purse, heavy with blue bulbs now.She had enough to keep the shield running for a few weeks.
The shield.Right.She needed to install them.
Walter guided her to the gate pillars—she hadn't even noticed them properly before, too busy running for her life that first night.But there they were, stone columns on either side of the gate with hollow chambers inside.
"Just place them in here," Walter explained."The shield will absorb the energy automatically."
She loaded the bulbs in carefully, watching as each one began to glow brighter once placed.The shield responded immediately—the yellow strengthening, the red cracks fading to pink, then disappearing entirely.By the time she'd used fifteen bulbs, the shield looked solid again.Healthy.
She kept the remaining eight in her purse.Backup.Just in case.
"Much better," Walter said approvingly."That should hold nicely."
Wren looked out at the grass beyond the gate.At the spot where she'd nearly died.Where Jin and Kenji had saved her.
The dandelions were prowling the perimeter again, checking the shield, patrolling.
An idea struck her."Wait," she said slowly."The dandelions can go through the shield, right?"
"Of course, madam.They're yours.The shield recognizes them."
"So they could go out there.And get bulbs.Without me."
Walter's whiskers twitched."I...suppose they could, yes.Though they'd need some way to carry..."He looked at their hollow bodies."Ah.Yes, I see what you mean."
Wren looked at her protectors.They'd already proven they could fight and gather bulbs, could think and coordinate."Next time," she said, "I will send them.I will stay here where it's safe."
"A wise decision, madam."
She felt lighter suddenly.The bulb problem wasn't solved—she'd need more regularly—but it wasn't the death sentence she'd thought.The dandelions could handle it.She didn't have to risk her life every two weeks.
The relief was dizzying.
She went inside and collapsed into the rocking chair, suddenly exhausted.The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving her shaky and tired.
But she'd survived.She'd gotten the bulbs.She'd met the Marshall.
She'd accidentally shown him her underwear tree.
She groaned and covered her face again.
Outside, the afternoon sun was breaking through the clouds.The rain had finally stopped.Her grove sparkled with water droplets, everything green and growing and alive.
She had work to do still, lunch to make.More planning, more preparing.But right now, she just sat in her chair and breathed.She was alive and safe.Home.
She sat there until her heartbeat returned to normal, then forced herself up.The day wasn't over yet.
Lunch first.She was starving—adrenaline had burned through her breakfast, and she wanted tea while she worked.A soothing cup of chamomile sounded wonderful.
She made it simple.Baked eggs from the eggplant (watching them carefully this time), bread with butter, milk from the milkweed bottles.Hot tea with cream.
Thankfully, she didn't have to risk her life for food.
As she ate, she looked out the window toward town.Through the clarified shield, she could see it clearly in the late afternoon light.The buildings built into the cliff face.The defensive walls.And there—movement.Tiny figures, just specks really, but definitely people going about their lives.
It was close.Really close.Ten minutes walk, maybe?Fifteen at most on a good road?
