“What’s the verdict on supplies?” Prospero looked at them both, noticing the grim turn of their expressions at her question.
“We need another run.” Walter’s lips pressed into a tight line.
Prospero, despite her issues with Sondre, met his gaze. That was worse than she’d expected. “Already?”
“Housing is problematic as well. We simply don’t have enough suites or apartments for the new arrivals.” Walter poured her tea, and she noticed with a not-insignificant flare of guilt that the water wascrystal clean. There were perks to Walter’s station—and to hers and Sondre’s.
She still felt bad knowing others didn’t have that privilege simply because their magical ability was of a lower level. All witches had basic gifts, and some had a lot more magic than others. Then there were the heads of houses, the witches who ran Crenshaw. She was one of them, and so her safety would likely not be imperiled soon. It would eventually: poisoned water would sicken all of them.
“We could stretch out the length of the classes and keep the students at the castle for at least six months,” Sondre offered. “If not, we’re looking at having most of the new arrivals move in with existing households.”
“And if most of them do stay in Crenshaw, we will have to decrease food and clean water distribution even more.” Walt rubbed his forehead, as if he could wipe worry away. “We can try to tell the citizens that there’s a mead sale.”
“They’d know why. Honestly, we ought to tell them before they decide if they want to stay here or be siphoned.” She stood and began to pace. “What if I start bringing back water only? Or we could do half supplies and half water?” Prospero made eye contact with Sondre as she added, “We could both go together every Monday. We just need a second truck.”
Sondre crossed his arms over his chest. It was as close to relaxed as he ever was around her. “Steal even more from some family because we have a need? Is thatright?”
“They have ‘chain stores’ now, Sondre. Not a person or family, just a big company. We can get a second truck.” Prospero squirmed a little at the awkwardness of the idea. “Gemstones could work if we need to pay. I don’t know the exchange rate, but one of them still ought to be worth enough for a pile of food or a few barrels of water. We could create a food committee. You and me. We take the volunteers over, and I can… make the people accept the stones.”
“It’s not a terrible idea.” Walt beamed at her. “Maybe we can import other new things, too? Surely, there’s something you miss.”
“Steak,” Sondre muttered. “I miss steak.”
It was odd the things many citizens of Crenshaw missed, and Prospero wondered yet again if there was something broken in her. The only things she missed were newly issued books. New, just-printed books. She didn’t have access to as many as she wanted, and her brief time over in the Barbarian Lands when she’d debated an attempt on Ellie’s life had reminded her all too well that Crenshaw had a lack of new things to read.A library of new releases.After a century or so here, Prospero had read all the books they had on hand. Sometimes a new arrival brought a book or two, so there were additions.
Not that I have much free time of late.
The responsibility for her home—her whole world, really—weighed her down. The citizens were adults, every last one of them, but she spent her waking hours trying to find ways to stretch out their time here, extend their space, expand their ability to gather provisions.
And with literal mountains on either side, there is only so much even a witch can do.
She shrugged. “We can try to work together.”
Walt looked cheerful at the thought. “We’d need volunteers to carry the extra supplies. Trustworthy ones who could… pass for modern and not wander off into the wilds.”
Sondre nodded to himself. “I’ll get the hobs to collect the clothing from the latest arrivals and modify it to fit the volunteers.”
Walt’s head hob popped in with another garish scarf and hat. He dutifully stood and donned the fuchsia and orange knitwear. “Shall we go to the warehouse?”
The unlikely trio walked to the food reserves.
“Back in the beginning, we brought in most of the supplies to build houses and everything,” Walter said, voice low in that conversational tone he adopted when he was carefully politicking. “Food wasn’t a problem then. Water either. Hell, we were even allowed a child per couple if we wanted one.”
“You brought inallthe supplies for the houses at the beginning?” Sondre asked.
Prospero thought about all the things that had once been common knowledge but were no longer part of the remedial witchcraft classes. No sense talking about frequent transfers from the Barbarian Lands when it was so dangerous. With the new technology over there, trips to gather supplies had been reduced to food only.
“More or less,” she said. “There was a village here. Abandoned for whatever reason—”
“Plague,” Walter interjected. “But that was a couple hundred years ago. Before both of your times. It was easier to slip into their world and liberate things. These days, we repair what is here. Magic evolved to fit our needs.”
They walked to the old kirk that had become a food reserve. The guard stepped aside, not remarking on the oddity of seeing Sondre and Prospero walking together. Word of it would spread, though. They’d been spotted sharing tea and now this.
Maybe it will ease worries.That was likely Walt’s plan. For all that he said he hated politics, he was damn good at it.
The short walk passed in silence.
“If this works, we can continue to import extra food.” Walt closed the door behind them.
