But the coffee shop wasn’t open to the general public anymore, and those sips had to be taken much more carefully since she knew every person she fed on and didn’t want them to be harmed. She didn’t sip from Nadine in the morning for the same reason she didn’t take any life energy from the police officers—they needed that energy to remain alert and safe while they worked.
She wondered if any of the human parents realized why the children’s energy so conveniently waned just before bedtime. She wondered if Simon, Vlad, and Henry knew—or cared, since she wasn’t feeding on any of the terra indigene young.
“Am I going to be annoyed?” Tess asked.
“I think this might be advantageous for both of us.” Nadine held out a letter.
That would be nice if it were true, Tess thought as she read the letter. “I don’t understand. We get our supplies from Intuit and terra indigene farms.”
“The Courtyard does; that’s true. But those places send you an agreed-upon amount to provide for the terra indigene who are here, not for all the humans you’re now permitting to shop at the Market Square stores. If you use the supplies so that I can make things for A Little Bite, you won’t have any left to use anywhere else.”
That was true enough. More quantity restrictions were going into effect throughout the Northeast Region—probably the whole of Thaisia—because of delays when shipping foodstuffs from one region to another. Shops received a guaranteed amount of rationed items based on the number of households that were registered with those shops. Since the Courtyard residents didn’t receive ration books, it was unclear if they would be able to purchase anything in human stores.
“I went to the post office branch that used to deliver my mail,” Nadine said. “I listed the Courtyard as the new address for my bakery as well as my personal address. Because so many of the bakeries in Lakeside burned the night mine was torched, a bakery that existed previously is still considered a viable commercial business even if the owner is running it out of his home kitchen. As part of the fair-distribution restrictions in effect, supplies are being reduced by a third of a bakery’s previous usage. For most people, that’s going to mean a loaf of bread will cost the same but be a smaller loaf in order to supply all the registered customers. And that means families like the MacDonalds and Debanys, and your tenants in the apartments, will want to buy what they can through the Courtyard. The supplies I’ll receive will handle any baked goods those families may want, as well as being able to supply A Little Bite.”
“So you’ll use the kitchen here, but I’ll buy the baked goods like I did when you were located in a separate place?”
“Yes. You’ll pay me so my business will continue to operate as a business. I’ll purchase my own supplies, pay rent for my apartment, and buy things from the Market Square shops.”
It sounded like a way to complicate something that should be a straightforward exchange, but if Nadine needed to do that in order to follow human rules and keep her business, Tess could work with that.
“As an individual, I’m going to register at shops in the Bird Park Plaza in order to purchase rationed supplies. I think all the human households should do that, since we have that option. That way, if we run out of something before the next earth native delivery, there will still be a way to purchase things.”
Tess considered everything that had been said. Nadine had thought about this. Had Eve Denby or Twyla Montgomery been thinking about this too? What about Meg’s female pack?
“All right, we’ll try it. Do you need to put up a sign or something?”
“I thought we could put up a sign for the bakery near the coffee shop’s back door. After all, that’s where the supplies would be delivered.”
And not advertising the bakery where the sign could be seen by humans driving on Crowfield Avenue was practical, since none of the Courtyard shops were open to the general public anymore.
Tess felt her hair relaxing out of its coils. “Anything else?”
“I heard Twyla Montgomery wants to use one of the efficiency apartments. Since the other three efficiencies are already taken, that doesn’t leave any place for Emily Faire to live when she starts work at the medical office here. I’ll have an extra bedroom when I move into my apartment. Emily is welcome to use it.”
“I’ll let her know.” Tess watched a group of young men wearing white shirts, dark trousers with suspenders, and straw hats walk past the coffee shop’s windows and go into Howling Good Reads. “Looks like the first job fair applicants have shown up. They’ll be herded in here to fill out applications and wait.”
“What do you think? Should we offer muffins and sandwiches?”
Tess nodded. Fresh faces, here for only a day. While she served them food and drink, she could sip a little life energy from each of them.
Preoccupied with the humans who suddenly swarmed the Courtyard’s cluster of buildings, the smaller shifters didn’t notice the odd silence, didn’t catch the wild scent in the air.
The Elementals who were watching the swarm did notice those things but said nothing.
The lack of concern for a swarm both puzzled and intrigued the two Elders who had slipped into the Courtyard at first light—and confirmed that Lakeside was the right place to watch how different kinds of humans acted around earth natives. After they had watched long enough, they would share what they had learned—and the Elders in this part of the world would decide what kind of humans would be allowed to survive in Thaisia.
Simon wondered how the Simple Life folk on Great Island had spread the word to other communities so fast. Maybe Simple Life communities had one telephone for emergencies and someone had called other communities in the Northeast Region to tell them there was potential work for anyone who wanted to resettle in the Midwest? However they had done it, the young men who had made the trip to Great Island and then traveled on a bus to Lakeside for these interviews had come from several communities around the Feather Lakes and Addirondak Mountains. There were even a few from a community in the High North on the other side of Lake Tahki.
Two dozen men who had lived and worked around animals. They were familiar with dairy cows, not the beef cattle that were raised in the Midwest Region, but they could ride a horse and knew how to mend fences and work around a farm. They all had older brothers who would inherit the family farms, so this was a chance for them to make a new beginning, to establish something for themselves.
Nothing smelled off about any of these men. Nothing raised his hackles. Nothing about them troubled Vlad either. They were ready, even eager, to work—and to have an adventure.
There was nothing wrong with the five women who also applied to work on ranches, although they, unlike the men, had questions. Did the ranches have a dairy cow to supply milk? Were there chickens for eggs and meat? Were there any sheep to supply wool for spinning and weaving? What about goats?
How was he supposed to know? Whatever had been there that hadn’t run away or been eaten would be there when they arrived. As for supplies and whatever else was required, they would work that out with the residents of Bennett and Prairie Gold.
“Not bad for our first day,” Vlad said when all the happy humans climbed into the bus to go back to Great Island and pack their belongings and inform their families that they were headed to the western edge of the Midwest. “Twenty-four men to work on the ranches and deal with the horses and cattle, and five women who will tend the ranch houses and cook.”