Chapter 12 #2
“Didn’t she also breed a more fuzzrot-resistant variety of squash?” the man next to her asked. “Do you have enough seed to share with the rest of us?”
The woman grimaced. “Barely enough for my own field, I’m afraid, but I’ll ask my customers to save their seeds when they eat the squash and return them to me for redistribution.”
Alin and Bram exchanged a look, some silent conversation happening, then Alin spoke up.
“We should start encouraging people to ration their food sooner rather than later to preserve the village’s stores,” he said.
“I hate to ask people to tighten their belts when we don’t know what’s going to happen yet, but it might not be a bad idea to ask people to eat as much fresh food as possible and leave their preserved food in storage for now. ”
A wave of grumbles ensued.
“People are gonna complain like hell,” one man said.
The person next to him nodded their agreement. “People don’t like restricting themselves for a maybe. Once we start seeing the damage, sure, but before then?”
“Give our people more credit,” Kell said. “They care about this place just as much as we do. If we tell them there’s danger of the food bank running dry, they’ll be happy to munch on snap peas and leave their potatoes in storage a little longer.”
Ms. Chanda held up her hand again, forestalling any further discussion.
“This is going to be an ‘all of the above’ situation, folks. I’ll speak with the rest of the village council at our next meeting.
In the meantime, we should all mitigate the coming damage as best we can.
Diversify your plantings, share knowledge, and keep in close communication.
Come to me or one of your senior farmers if you have concerns.
We’ll have an emergency meeting in one month to discuss this matter again. Unless there is other business…”
She trailed off, scanning the room. When no one spoke, she banged the trowel on the table. “We are adjourned. Thank you for your time. Take care of each other.”
With that, all the anxiety of the past half hour drained from Oaklin’s body in a rush, leaving them lightheaded and drained, their chest burning from sitting in a state of barely controlled emotional chaos and trying to seem normal.
They stood and scooted along one wall, aiming for the door without making eye contact with anyone.
Unfortunately, their efforts were noticed.
“Oaklin! A moment, please,” Ms. Chanda called from across the room. Oaklin froze, and everyone who hadn’t already left turned to stare at them. All the anxiety came roaring back. It took everything Oaklin had to keep up the “totally normal non-cultist murderer” front and paste on a weak smile.
“Of course,” they said, the smile going rictus as they waited.
Ms. Chanda took a moment to finish up her conversation with Bram, who waved to Oaklin on his way out afterward.
Finally, once they were alone, Ms. Chanda closed the door to the meeting chamber and leaned her shoulder against the wall beside the door, pinning Oaklin with a frank stare.
“Now, look, kid,” Ms. Chanda said, keeping her voice low but firm. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I hope you’ll come to me if you need help. This village needs that farm, and it needs your expertise.”
Oaklin opened their mouth to protest, but Ms. Chanda cut them off with a shake of her head.
“The good granny witch was a personal friend of mine, and I know for a fact that she had protections in place to ensure the farm would be sold to someone with magic,” she said.
Oaklin’s stomach dropped straight into the planet’s core as Ms. Chanda continued.
“Now, maybe you’ve got reasons for hiding your ability, and that’s none of my business.
But whatever it is, best start working through it.
Come summer, we’ll need your help, or else we won’t be able to feed everyone. I don’t think you want that.”
Oaklin shook their head, breath rasping audibly in their throat. “No. I don’t want that. But I…um…”
Ms. Chanda clapped Oaklin on the shoulder, her smile going a little softer.
“I don’t know where you came from before, kid, but in Moss, we take care of each other.
I mean it when I say that I hope you’ll come to me.
I’m happy to help,” she said, the smile coming through in her voice.
“I want you to succeed here, and not just because we need you. I’m honestly delighted to see Granny’s land being worked again. I have a good feeling about you.”
Her eyes narrowed and her smile went catlike.
“And hey, Lior seems to like you,” she said. “That goes quite a ways in my book. She’s a good egg.”
Oaklin blushed inexplicably at that and kicked at the ground.
“Thank you,” they said through a tight throat. “I really appreciate your…everything. I grew up in a farming town, but it was nothing like this. We never would have dreamed of sharing seeds or secrets, and we definitely never used magic.”
Ms. Chanda frowned. “Did you grow up in Einkor?”
Oaklin’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Yes. How did you know?”
Ms. Chanda’s expression grew complicated, then smoothed into neutrality.
“Let’s just say I’ve known others who came from those territories.
We do things differently in Mossley’s Rest, and that is why you should know that I’m being completely genuine with you.
When I offer you my help, I’m not asking for payment.
I’m not asking for anything in return. I want to help because you’re in my community and that matters.
Whether it’s an extra set of hands getting the house back into shape, advice on what to plant when, or a sympathetic ear, you can come to me. ”
Ms. Chanda pushed off the wall and grabbed the door handle, then turned back with a reassuring smile. “And Oaklin? No one is going to bat an eye if you suddenly discover a talent for the magic of the land, okay? Think about it.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and Oaklin stood in the empty, silent room for several long moments, just breathing.
Ms. Chanda knew. Somehow, she knew.
How long before everyone else found out?
Oaklin leaned their back against the stone wall, letting the bracing coolness of the stone go to work on the knot inside their chest. One minute, then two, then ten.
Then, finally, they went back to their farm and got to work.