Need to stock up, she thought as she studied the shelves in her store and tried to ignore the increasing ache in her left wrist. Canned goods, dried goods, anything in a jar that will last until . . .
“Until what?” The sound of her own voice startled her, made her stop and consider why her thoughts had jumped from fortune-telling cards to the certainty that she needed to hoard supplies, and she needed to do it now.
As she looked around her store, her gaze rested on the shelves that held the books. Couldn’t purchase books from the publishers anymore. Couldn’t buy books from the bookstore in Bennett. Some might argue that books were a luxury, not a necessity. She didn’t agree, but as a test for depriving an isolated community of merchandise? People would be unhappy about the loss of new books to read but not angry. At least, not at first. But what if things they considered more necessary suddenly couldn’t be purchased? Things like food and clothes and, gods, even something as basic as toilet paper?
Two years ago, they’d had a rough winter, had been isolated for several weeks during a series of fierce storms. She’d had a feeling that year and had started stocking up on supplies in late autumn, ignoring the teasing from Tobias and Shelley about becoming a canned goods and paper pack rat. Then the storms hit a few weeks later. By the time they’d gotten the road cleared and could drive to Bennett for supplies, she’d had half a dozen cans of soup and two boxes of spaghetti on the shelves and had been breaking up the last packages of toilet paper and selling it by the roll so that every family would have some.
As she looked at the stock in her store, she had the same feeling, only this time it felt worse. Much worse.
Pulling out the notebook she used to keep track of items to order, she began reviewing the shelves and making a list. She’d completed the dried goods section when Shelley rushed into the store.
“Joe Wolfgard received an e-mail,” Shelley said. “From Vlad Sanguinati!”
“Joe has gone to Bennett with Tobias,” Jesse replied.
“Do you think we should read it?”
“No.”
“I can access his e-mail and—”
“No.”
“But it might be important!”
Jesse turned and eyed Shelley. “Even if it is important, there’s nothing anyone can do about it until Joe and Tobias get back.”
“But we could look—”
“Just because you set up the account for him doesn’t mean you’re entitled to read his mail or even check his account to see if he received any.” Jesse’s voice turned sharp. “The library and the post office are the only places in Prairie Gold that have computers. Anyone who wants to communicate through e-mail has to use those machines. Do you read the mail of everyone who uses the computers in the library? Do you violate the trust of your friends and neighbors?”
“Of course not! But this is different!”
“No, it’s not. The fact that Joe Wolfgard is sharing anything with us is more communication than we’ve ever had with the terra indigene, and, Shelley, we can’t afford to lose that trust. Not now.” Jesse wrapped her right hand around her left wrist. “Not now.”
“You’re right,” Shelley said, sounding chastened as she stared at Jesse’s wrist. “You’re right. But don’t you wonder what they talk about?”
“I think it’s better for all of us if we don’t know.”
“We filled out the paperwork, the containers are clearly labeled, and we paid the haulage for two hundred pounds that requires refrigeration,” Tobias said hotly.
“Like we said.” One of the handlers gave Tobias and Joe an oily smile. “Refrigeration car is full up this trip.”
Stay in control, Joe thought. Don’t shift. And don’t bite the baggage handlers. It won’t help.
Tobias pointed at the railroad car that was puffing clouds of cold air out the open door. “There’s plenty of room in there for our five boxes.”
The handler closed the door. “We’re full up.”
<Wolf? I am Air. Do you need help?>
The female voice—and the offer—surprised him. He’d never dealt with any of the Elementals directly until the night they’d all gathered to attack the Controller’s compound. How many of them lived in Thaisia, let alone the rest of the world? Were there a thousand of them called Air? Ten thousand? More? Being a form of terra indigene, there were males as well as females. Was there someplace in the wild country where they gathered to mate and raise their young? Was there some lush valley where their steeds bore foals that played and grew until their natures were revealed? Was a wisp of a tornado a colt just learning what it was, while a lethal funnel was a stallion in its prime?
The Elementals called themselves by what they commanded and offered no other name—at least, not to anyone beyond their own kind. So while this female called herself Air, he didn’t think she had been at the Controller’s compound, and he was fairly certain she wasn’t the Elemental who lived in Lakeside.
Joe considered her question. <We want to send some meat to Simon Wolfgard and Meg Corbyn at the Lakeside Courtyard, but the humans are saying the car with cold air doesn’t have room for the boxes of meat.>
<We have heard of the Meg who lives near Etu. She likes this meat?>
<She has never tasted bison, so it will be a treat—if it doesn’t spoil before it reaches Lakeside.>
A wind lightly whipped around the platform. The door of the next car opened. <Put the meat for the Meg in this box,> Air said.
<That baggage car isn’t cold.>
<It will be.>
“We’ll put our shipment in this baggage car,” Joe told Tobias. “Come on, let’s get these boxes inside.”
“But that’s not—”
“Do it,” Joe growled.
They hauled the five boxes of meat into the empty baggage car, setting them to one side of the door.
The baggage handlers smirked—until the female who looked like she was wearing a long dress made out of clouds walked across the platform with a barrel-bodied, chubby-legged white pony.
“Gods,” Tobias whispered.
“Ssh,” Joe warned. <Thank you for your help.>
She smiled at him. Then she looked at the baggage handlers, and her smile changed to something sharp and feral. She and the pony entered the baggage car. She closed the door.
“What the fuck was that?” one of the baggage handlers said.
Joe didn’t answer. His sharp Wolf hearing picked up sounds in the baggage car that the humans didn’t hear or were choosing to ignore—sounds of a storm in the making.
“All aboard!” the conductor called.
“Wait!” A man ran onto the platform with a cart full of boxes. “These need to be loaded.”
“If you put them in that baggage car, they’ll get wet,” Joe said, making a token effort to be helpful.
“You and the Wolf lover can go fuck yourselves,” a handler snapped.
“Why?” Joe asked, not seeing the connection between baggage and mating.
No one answered the question, because the handler pulled the baggage car door open—and wind-driven snow slapped him in the face so hard it knocked him back a step.
“Gods,” Tobias said again.
“No, that’s Air and Blizzard,” Joe said. “They’ll keep the meat cold. Come on. It’s time to go.” He walked away but had to wait for Tobias to stop staring at the baggage car and catch up.
On the way back to Prairie Gold, he wondered if he should call Simon and tell him the Elementals were going to be interested in knowing if Meg Corbyn liked bison meat.