Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AUDREY
Have you ever worn a Cursed necklace, Victor?
An interesting experience. Whatever that magic is, it feels like power.
Thanking you for such a lovely box of silver.
In other news, your boys turned back a group that was more than the usual rabble.
Their shield walls are something to behold.
How go my trackers? —in a letter from General Dieudonné, Count of Black Borough to General Victor, Duke of La'Angi
La’Angi City
The air of the still had an unusual scent, somewhere between rotten eggs and bread dough that had been left in a cellar.
“We’re a bit behind on the production, I think,” the anxious young woman said, her hands buried in her thick apron.
“It didn’t work the way it did for my pa, exactly. I’m sorry, my lady.”
Her voice shook when she’d told me she’d ruined three batches of the knappchs base spirit a few days ago. But it had been my last time with Yasmine, and I’d been selfish.
“It wouldn’t have worked any faster for me,” I assured her, grateful I hadn’t had to sink hours of my time into the research. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” Her smile was too bright, but she turned me toward the vats with pipes coming out of them. Some coiled high up into the air; others vanished from view into the ground or behind more vats. “What did you want to see?”
“Nothing in particular,” I admitted. “I just wanted to check in, make sure you felt confident and supported.” She’d already given me the tour and apologized so many times I’d almost cried for her.
I had no idea how it actually worked because I’d been focused on whether she was safe in the oft dangerous conditions of the clockwork still.
While the details of the process had escaped me, I knew the broad strokes of it.
There were a few left alive who knew the process, but she was the one who’d put her hand up. One of the older women had been there to assist her with the initial hauling and setting up, but there was a lot to do, and so many gaps in knowledge.
“Well, it’s all going well so far.” She looked up at the still, as if she expected it to explode at any moment. “I think? My lady.”
“I trust you, Aleja,” I promised. “I wanted to know if there’s any support I can give, not to make sure you’re on schedule. Given where we were half a moon ago, I’m overjoyed with our progress, regardless of mistakes and delays.”
She swallowed and squared her shoulders. “I’m trying,” she said. “It’s good that you’ve got the kitchen staff making the fruit mash. That’ll speed it up a lot. I’m just one person. I’d do what I could, but keeping these running…”
“My records show there were more than eight people doing what you’re doing by yourself now,” I reminded her.
“They did it better,” she said with a bit of a laugh.
“They had a lot more practice, more time, more rest, and more help. Of course they’d do it better.” I resisted the desire to give her a hug. “I don’t expect you to do the job of eight experienced, resourced people.”
The breath that she let out shook. “There’s a lot riding on this.”
The strain around her eyes worried me. She’d rejected all offers of trainees I’d given her.
I’d need to nudge Bernadette and see if she could spare whoever had been in here supporting Aleja when she’d first got it all up and running so she didn’t need to train them. I couldn’t afford for her to break.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I flicked my fingers dismissively.
“There are a lot of people who have liquor cabinets full of our knappchs,” I said, turning away.
“Do they want more? Yes. Do they need it?” I snorted, and from the corner of my eye I saw surprise flicker over her face.
“It will help us, but we’ll survive without it. Don’t lose sleep over this, please.”
“You said the economy needed the knappchs,” she said, hesitantly.
“It does,” I admitted. “It’s an important part of our economy. But, with a city as large as this one, we had a lot more happening than just apple-flavored spirits. I’m sorry if you felt this is the only thing our city stands on.”
She let out a relieved laugh, shaking her head. “You had me scared there, m’lady.”
“I’m so sorry.” I made a mental note to downplay the importance of what was going on at the still as I tried to arrange my expression into something that was compassionate but not pitying.
“I’m used to trying to get those lads on the watch to straighten up their spears. I should’ve explained better.”
“No, no.” She laughed, waving a hand. Her nails were bitten to the quick, but her steps were measured as she walked me to the exit. “By the Wife, you’ve got so much pressure on you. Speaking of what’s holding the city together! I’m sure I merely misunderstood.”
Isolde was waiting for me outside of the still.
It had been our last stop on the circuit.
The other three stops had been the community hubs.
I had elders overseeing food and housing.
Chay offered me a hand up to Storm, and to save her back I accepted, my mind going to the sequence he’d shown me this morning, fitting it against the one he’d shown me yesterday evening when I’d requested additional training.
My fingers were stiff from the live blade Isolde had sourced for me.
It was heavier than the one I’d been training with and the grips a little wider.
For all that, the feel of it was excellent.
I stretched out my digits, then my wrists, as I rode. My forearms had held up better than I expected. The faint warmth across my shoulders worried me a little, but I’d see how it all fared over the next few days. I could slow down, but I needed to maintain momentum.
Isolde lifted a finger. I followed where she pointed and saw the Siren’s Ally sailing into port. A shiver ran up my spine at the sight of the familiar vessel.
I was tempted to sit and watch the crew manage the ropes and sails, to enjoy the anticipation that coiled in my veins as they maneuvered that big tub of wood and clockwork magic. Instead, I turned to the keep.
The Captain would come to me. I was sure of it.
When they did, I’d make as much time as I could.
I remembered the glint in their eyes, the way their finger had trailed over the map, the feel of their body arching up into mine. Then I reminded myself about what I should’ve cared about…the children they may have with them.
We needed the population boost. With the weather warming up, I’d had to send groups out to make sure planting could go ahead.
We could scale back our food production for a few years because it would take time for demand to increase, but we needed to maintain a spread of produce, as I’d found with our wheat dilemma. There was a reason we grew millet.
Bernadette was flustered in the kitchen upon my return.
I rolled up my sleeves to help peel swedes while she explained how Penny had just found out she was pregnant the hard way, and how Keith was swearing he wasn’t the father because his wife’s family, who’d been in Azashi over the winter, wouldn’t help him with the children if they knew he’d been having fun with Penny while his wife was barely cold in the grave.
Which, all in all, wasn’t my problem, but the more Bernadette talked, the slower her movements became, and the lower her voice was.
It went from being a river of words to occasional punctuation and long pauses between sentences.
“Is Penny feeling okay?” I managed to get in eventually.
“She can’t stop vomiting, can she?” She sighed. “Smell of everything sets her off, doesn’t it?”
Which, as I’d suspected, was the real problem. Bernadette ran a tight ship, but she needed more hands.
Perhaps some small ones she could train? If they weren’t too small, of course. Surely, if these children were living alone, there were some older teens.
There was no easy answer. Bernadette knew it, which is why she hadn’t led with the problem. But by the time I left, she’d gone from storming around like a stallion to her more usual tired but strategic plodding pace.
Right now, it felt like all I could do was help people feel better.