The inn was about as basic as inns came, which Jane decided to count as a feature rather than a deterrence. Her newly-appointed liaison took it upon himself to talk to the middle-aged innkeeper, who spent one terrified glance on Jane and Bella before scuttling off to prepare their baths.

  Jane didn’t love the fear, but she supposed it had its conveniences sometimes. It was certainly expediting things right now, and though she had pretended to be fairly nonchalant about keeping the town’s ‘who’s-who’ waiting, she didn’t intend on making them wait any longer than was necessary. She would soak just long enough to get the dust out of every nook and cranny of her being, put on clean clothes, and possibly eat.

  Despite Jane’s own recent notoriety, her aunt was still the presiding expert on archmage work in their family, and perhaps in the entire world. Cecelia had told Jane that nothing was ever properly solved while travel-dust was still in one’s shoes. She had emphasized the lesson so strongly that Jane felt she really couldn’t contradict it.

  Even so, the guilt of being rude to some unmet elders was strong. Jane got herself clean with distressing efficiency before pulling the plug to let her murky, days-of-travel bathwater drain away. On the force of another recommendation by her aunt, she had kept a clean set of clothes in her bag throughout the journey, ready for just this occasion. Jane blessed Cecelia yet again as she slipped into the clean fabric, only now realizing what a crime against her own flesh it would have been to put on one of the dirty sets again.

  Bella walked out from behind her partition, fully clean and clothed.

  “That is better,” she said, rubbing the last bit of water out of her hair with a towel.

  Jane heartily agreed. They left the bathing room together to find their faithful assistant waiting several steps away.

  “Begging your pardon, ma’ams, but the counsel instructed me to tell you not to bother to find food. They are having something made for you, they said.”

  Bella grinned at Jane. “Well, good. I guess that solves the question of whether or not I was ditching you to find a meal.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I might.” Bella grabbed her by the arm and began to move her towards the door with significant force. “I’m very, very hungry, Jane. Hunger changes people. Let’s get down there before it changes me more.”

  The town that greeted them outside was even more uniform than Jane had noticed on their hurried march to the inn. Every building was made from the same dirt-brown brick, from the inn itself to all the individual houses and shops they passed. Even the mortar between the bricks seemed to have been mixed from the same ruddy clay, giving the whole place a sort of monochromatic quality that almost made Jane go cross-eyed.

  "It's all the same color," Bella said, echoing Jane's thoughts. "How does anyone find their way around?"

  "You get used to it." Dave had taken the lead. He was ahead of them, walking down the main street at a pace that suggested he was very aware of the dangers of a hungry Bella, even at this early date in their friendship. "And there are signs."

  There were, indeed, signs. They were made of the same clay as everything else, just fired a little darker and carved with names. Jane supposed it would have worked well enough if she had known what any of them meant.

  Jane spotted a few patches of green here and there. They were mostly window-box gardens, with a few sad little plots squeezed between buildings. All were trying and failing to grow vegetables in what amounted to a local drought. The wilted leaves and general unhealthiness didn’t look irreversible, but the plants certainly didn’t have many more days left in them.

  "Why do people live here in the first place?" Bella asked. "I don't mean that like it sounded. It's just… there's no river, clearly. There's barely any green. What made someone look at this spot and say, ‘Yes, this is where I'd like to build a town’?"

  Jane found she had no idea. She had been so focused on the present water problem that she hadn't stopped to wonder about the history of the place. She might have read something in all the dossiers and surveys that had been shoved at her when she was assigned the job, but if so, the memory was long gone.

  "Mining, mostly," Dave said. He seemed more comfortable now that he had something useful to contribute. "We quarry stone here. There's coal in the hills to the east, and some metal. Iron, mostly. That's what feeds the town."

  "But you can't eat stone," Jane said.

  "No, Miss Jane. You can't." Dave plowed on. "We trade for most of what we need, but we still have to grow some of it ourselves. That requires water. And we have livestock that need watering, and people who need to drink and wash. The mines need water too, for cooling and cleaning. It all comes from the pumps. And the pumps hardly work now.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Jane looked at the wilting gardens again and felt the weight of responsibility settle more firmly onto her freshly-cleaned shoulders.

  When they arrived at the town’s center, Dave suddenly stopped, falling behind them. The two girls noticed his hesitance and turned.

  “I’m not needed here,” he said in answer to Jane’s silent question. “Believe me. I need to care for my horse and check over the carriage, especially if you two plan on using it during your stay. I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

  Jane searched for any reason to keep the young man there, and came up blank. They would need him fresh in the morning, just as he’d said, and he wasn’t likely to know much about whatever was coming up in the meeting.

  “That’s fine. You’ve been really helpful today, Dave. Thank you.”

  Dave nodded, waved, and was gone. Jane and Bella stood looking at the meeting hall for a moment, shifting a bit on sore feet.

  “Well, there’s nothing for it.” Bella stepped forward, pulling Jane with her. “Let’s see what they have to say.”

  The inside of the building was humble, even by small-town standards. Jane saw just three people sitting at the table, with only three free chairs of rough-hewn wood for her and Bella to choose from.

  The two middle-aged men and one older woman stood to greet them.

  “Welcome, Archmage Jane and Companion Bella,” said one of the men. “Our small town is incredibly pleased to welcome you, and I pledge that whatever resources we have will be made available to…”

  Jane found it hard to listen. The center of the table was graced by a large bowl of noodles mixed in some kind of butter sauce, with a liberal application of pepper and what looked like the meat of several small gamebirds.

  “....and should you find yourself in need of tools, manpower, or even counsel, we will endeavor…”

  She had managed to tune back in for a second or two, but the smell of the pasta drew her away. Her mouth was watering so heavily that she was afraid she might start drooling in front of these people.

  How do I get him to stop? I can’t very well tell him to shut up and let us eat.

  “Oh, shut up, Eustice. Let the poor girl eat,” the old woman cut in, then cackled. “Look at her. She’s going to burn a hole in that bowl with her eyes. She’s been traveling, remember?”

  Eustice gave a sheepish half-bow. “I’m sorry. I should have been more polite.”

  “Nonsense.” The woman waved off the apology with all the formality of an old friend halfway through a bottle of wine. “Eat, girl. Eustice, serve them. I’m sure she knows we’ll help. We are here to listen to her, not the other way around.”

  “Hear, hear.” The other man stepped forward and began piling pasta onto a plate. He handed it to Jane with a smile. “Take this to get started. Would you like some wine?”

  “I’d love it. Bella?”

  “Suits me fine.” Bella shrugged. “We weren’t introduced, by the way. Who are all of you?”

  “Eustice was already named.” The old woman patted him on the shoulder. “He’s a master miner, and a generally good person. He wanted to make a good impression on you, the poor dear. He’s also my son.”

  “Ah,” Jane said. “That explains a bit.”

  “And she’s the town’s matriarch, which explains her a bit, too.” Eustice took his own plate of noodles and sat. “She’s used to ordering people about. The man serving you is what amounts to our mayor. He deals with our paperwork, communications with other settlements and cities, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh?” Bella raised her eyebrows. “Why weren’t you giving the speech, then? Seems like your territory.”

  The mayor handed Jane a glass of wine. “Me? No need. I don’t have much to say. I’m in old Hattie’s camp on this one. No need to talk your ear off. Why don’t you just tell us what you need?”

  Jane took a few bites of her noodles before answering. They were surprisingly good, and she didn’t think that was just hunger talking. There was a richness to the butter sauce that suggested someone had put real effort into making a fine meal for their important visitor.

  That’s me. I wish they knew they didn’t have to do that kind of thing for me, but I’m glad they did. My goodness, I needed this food.

  "Before I tell you what I need, I have a question. How much do you know about magic? Any of you, I mean."

  The three councilors exchanged glances. Eustice shrugged. The as-yet unnamed mayor did the same.

  Hattie was the one who answered. "Not much, dear. We're mining folk, mostly. We know magic exists, of course, and we know archmages can do impressive things with it. Beyond that?" She spread her hands. "We are just betting that you’ll be able to help us. That's about the extent of it."

  Jane nodded. "That's normal enough. Most people don't know much about magic, and I don’t need any of you to. That’s my work. But I need you to understand something before we go any further, because I don't want you to have the wrong expectations."

  She set down her fork and looked at each of them in turn, trying to find the right words. This was the part of the job she had dreaded the most before she took this first big assignment. It wasn’t the work itself that worried her, but the managing of hopes.

  "Magic isn't all-powerful. It can repair certain kinds of damage, if the damage is the right kind and I can find it. And if I have enough power to affect it."

  She forced herself to keep looking at them instead of picking up her fork and jabbing at her noodles.

  "What I'm looking for when I investigate a problem like yours is something I can change. And I can’t guarantee I’ll find it.

  The silence that followed was oppressive. Jane watched the hope in the men’s faces flicker, just a little.

  Hattie‘s reaction was a bit different.

  "You're worried?" she asked Jane.

  "I'm always worried. It's part of the job."

  "Well, stop it." The old woman’s voice was firm, just as matriarchal as had been hinted it could get. It reminded Jane a bit of her aunt when she got serious. "Or at least, stop worrying about us. I've been running this town for longer than you've been alive, girl. I know how to manage expectations, and I'll make sure everyone understands this isn't a sure thing. That’s my job. You just do yours, and we’ll be fine.”

  Jane felt the tiniest bit of weight slide off her shoulders. She smiled at Hattie. "I appreciate that."

  “I feel the same." Hattie sat back and picked up her fork. "Keep eating. And while you eat, talk. What else do you need?"

  .

  !