Chương 11: The Work Between Bells

Nessa arrived before lunch carrying a ledger, two pencils, and a small wooden box with a lock.

"You brought your own payment box," I said.

"The one on your counter is too deep."

"It holds money."

"It also holds order slips, spare tokens, three buttons, and a piece of dried ginger."

"The ginger was not intentional."

"That does not improve the box." She placed hers beside the register and opened it. The interior had been divided into narrow sections. Copper coins went on one side. Silver marks went on the other. A smaller compartment held blank receipts and charcoal. It was efficient. I disliked how quickly I approved of it.

"The restaurant already has a system," I said. Nessa looked toward the order board. WAITING. SERVED. PAID. The three columns remained from the previous day.

"Yes," she said.

"It does now." I returned to the kitchen. Breakfast service had ended an hour earlier. The guards had eaten most of the eggs, all of the potatoes, and enough fried rice to prove that putting it on the breakfast menu had been the correct decision. I had cleaned the cooking plates and prepared the lunch ingredients. Rice rested in covered trays. Monster-boar meat had been sliced. A stew simmered over low heat. The new delivery from Clovefield Company filled the pantry more neatly than my market purchases usually did.

The rice came in sealed sacks of equal weight. The vegetables had been sorted by type and condition. Every crate carried a collection date. The monster-boar meat had been processed less than three days earlier. Its mana remained dense enough that I could feel it through the cold cabinet door. That alone justified the delivery fee. A smaller crate sat beneath the preparation table. Jacob had added it to the order without charging me. The side carried a red mark used by guild processors.

EDIBLE MATERIAL — NONSTANDARD Inside were bundles of narrow silver-green leaves, several pale mushrooms, and three dark roots shaped like crooked fingers. A note rested on top. Joe, These were rejected by the alchemical buyer. Safe for food when prepared correctly. Silverleaf stems: bitter raw. Commonly used in mana-restoration tonics. Cavern caps: edible. Absorb ambient mana easily. Do not store beside active crystals. Redroot: warming property. Use small amounts. Do not experiment on Amon without telling him.

—Jacob The final instruction suggested Jacob understood his son. I removed one silverleaf stem. Its mana moved differently from monster meat. The boar carried energy through the muscle in heavy currents. Silverleaf held a thinner current within its veins. It gathered near the cut end, where the plant had attempted to preserve itself after harvesting. The leaves smelled sharp and slightly metallic. Nessa appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"What is that?"

"Silverleaf."

"Medicine?"

"Food."

"That answer sounded delayed."

"It is used in tonics."

"Then medicine."

"The stems were rejected by the alchemist."

"Why?"

"Too bitter. The leaves are also uneven." Nessa took one step closer.

"Are you serving it today?"

"I am examining it."

"That was not my question."

"I may prepare a small batch."

"For customers?"

"For testing."

"On whom?" I looked toward the dining room. Nessa folded her arms.

"No."

"I did not say anything."

"You looked toward the tables."

"That only establishes direction."

"It established enough." She returned to the counter. I placed the silverleaf beside the mushrooms. Hiring someone had introduced an unexpected difficulty. There was now another person available to question my decisions before I completed them. The front door opened. Amon entered carrying a narrow parcel wrapped in cloth. He looked toward Nessa's payment box.

"You replaced Joe's."

"Yes."

"Good."

"It was functional," I called from the kitchen. Amon leaned around the doorway.

"There was ginger in it."

"That has been addressed." He placed the parcel on the preparation table.

"My father sent this."

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

"You carried an unidentified guild package through the city?"

"He said it was for you."

"That does not identify it." Amon unwrapped the cloth. A short monster horn rested inside. It was dark near the base and pale at the tip. Fine blue lines ran through the surface. Nessa looked over from the counter.

"What monster?"

"Ridge grazer," Amon said.

"Small herd beast. The guild brought down two after they charged the supply wagon." I touched the horn. A faint current answered. Most horns stored little usable mana after removal. This one held a cool pressure within the blue lines.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Father said you asked for unusual edible materials."

"This is not edible."

"You can grind horn into tonic powder."

"After alchemical processing." Amon shrugged.

"He may have misunderstood."

"Your father does not misunderstand lists."

"Then he wanted to see what you would do with it." That was more likely. I placed the horn on the upper shelf. It would require research. Amon noticed the silverleaf.

"What is that?"

"Not for you," Nessa said. He looked at her.

"I was asking Joe."

"And I was preventing a problem."

"I only wanted to know what it was."

"Silverleaf," I said. Amon picked up one stem. Nessa slapped the back of his hand with an order board. He released it.

"That was unnecessary."

"You touched food in the kitchen."

"I washed my hands."

"When?" Amon looked at me. I continued examining the cavern caps.

"He is not allowed in the kitchen," I said.

"I brought a delivery."

"You have completed that task." Amon stepped back into the dining room.

"This arrangement feels hostile."

"It is efficient," Nessa replied. He chose a table near the counter.

"What is available?"

"Lunch begins at noon."

"It is nearly noon."

"It is eleven forty-seven." Amon looked toward me.

"You taught her this."

"I did not."

"That is worse." The door opened again. Mara entered with a basket of bread. She saw Amon at the table.

"You're early."

"So is everyone today."

"I am delivering bread." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"I delivered a horn." Mara looked toward the kitchen shelf.

"Why?" Amon leaned back.

"I don't know." She placed the basket behind the counter. A small wrapped parcel rested on top. Amon looked at it. Mara moved it beneath the counter before he could ask. Nessa watched the exchange. She said nothing. That suggested good judgment. Mara looked toward the kitchen.

"Are those mushrooms?"

"Cavern caps."

"They look pale."

"They grow without sunlight."

"So do several things that should not be eaten."

"They are confirmed as edible."

"By whom?"

"Jacob." Mara considered that.

"Then probably." The noon bell rang. The first customers entered immediately. Four maintenance workers from the western wall took the table near the window. Two guards followed them. A pair of tailors from the next street chose the smallest table near the entrance. Nessa moved before anyone asked what to do. She handed out menus, explained the order slips, and pointed toward the payment board.

"Pay after eating unless you are collecting food to leave. Table number goes at the top of the slip. Drinks are written at the bottom." One of the guards looked at the board.

"What if I want to pay first?"

"You may."

"What if I forget whether I paid?"

"I will remember." He accepted that. Orders reached the kitchen in a neat stack. Fried rice. Stew. Two meat pies. Roasted vegetables. One order requesting fried rice without fermented cabbage. I leaned through the service opening.

"Why?" The tailor at table two raised her hand.

"I don't like sour food."

"The fermented cabbage is part of the dish."

"Can you remove it?"

"Yes." The mana pattern would be weaker. That did not mean the food would fail. It would simply be fried rice with boar meat rather than the restorative version most customers expected. I prepared it separately. The kitchen settled into rhythm. Heat. Fat. Rice. Boar meat. Fermented cabbage near the end. The fresh meat produced a stronger current than the older market cuts. It moved through the pan without requiring much guidance. I used less mana than usual. The ingredients aligned.

A steady pulse passed through the handle. Nessa collected each plate as I finished it. She carried three at once without allowing them to tilt. Mara remained near the counter longer than necessary.

"You have a bakery," I said.

"I know."

"You should return to it."

"I am waiting for the empty basket."

"The bread has not been removed."

"That is why I am waiting." Amon opened the basket. Mara struck his hand.

"That delayed the process," he said.

"You were taking a roll."

"I was helping empty it."

"You are a customer."

"I have not ordered yet." Nessa placed a blank slip in front of him.

"Then order." Amon looked at the available options.

"Fried rice. Stew. Meat pie."

"One meal," Nessa said.

"I'm considering the combination."

"One order slip."

"There is room for several items." Nessa looked at me.

"How much does he usually eat?"

"Enough to affect inventory." Amon wrote all three. Mara removed the wrapped parcel from beneath the counter and set it beside him.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A honey bun."

"You hid it."

"I was preventing you from taking it before lunch."

"That seems unnecessary."

"You ate one before breakfast yesterday."

"That was after training."

"You had not trained."

"I had walked from the guild." Mara turned toward the door.

"I'm going back to work." Amon watched her leave. He looked at the honey bun. Then he moved it away from his lunch order. That was unexpectedly restrained. The door opened again before service reached its busiest point. Engineer Sela Hart entered with a young man in a maintenance coat. He looked pale. Not injured. Drained. His steps were steady, though he kept one hand against the wall as he entered. Sela guided him toward an empty chair.

"Water first," she said. Nessa brought it before being asked. The young man drank too quickly.

"Slowly," Sela told him. I stepped to the service opening.

"What happened?"

"Mana backlash," Sela said.

"Minor." The young man rested both hands around the cup.

"We were testing the repaired anchor."

"You fed too much mana into it," I said. His eyes lifted.

"The return line caught."

"That means you fed too much into it." Sela looked toward me.

"He knows."

"I noticed." The young man's breathing remained shallow. A healer would be the correct response if the backlash involved damaged channels, internal burns, or loss of consciousness. He was awake. His mana was simply depleted enough that his body had begun compensating.

"Has a healer examined him?" I asked.

"The wall infirmary did," Sela said.

"Rest, water, and food. No channel damage." That changed the problem.

"What can he eat?"

"Anything mild." The silverleaf sat beside the preparation board. Thin mana gathered along its cut veins. Tonics used the leaves because the plant released stored energy quickly when crushed into alcohol or heated water. The stems contained the same current, though less concentrated and more bitter. Bitterness could be managed. I took one stem. Nessa noticed. She stepped into the kitchen entrance.

"The healer approved food."

"Yes."

"Did the healer approve that?"

"It is an edible tonic ingredient."

"That is not the same answer." Sela looked between us.

"What are you making?"

"I don't know yet." The young maintenance worker lowered his cup.

"That is reassuring."

"It will be safe." Nessa remained in the doorway.

"I am preparing one portion," I said.

"I will taste it first." She considered that. Then she stepped aside. I sliced the silverleaf thinly. The smell sharpened. Too much heat would drive the mana into the cooking water before the rest of the dish could hold it. Too little heat would leave the stem fibrous and bitter. I needed something gentle. Rice porridge. I placed cooked rice into a small pot with boar-bone broth. The broth carried a mild current from the marrow but lacked the density of meat. The cavern caps absorbed ambient mana.

That made them useful. It also made them unpredictable. I cut one into narrow pieces and added it to the broth. The mushroom drew at the energy around it. Not enough to disrupt the heating rune. Enough to gather the loose current escaping from the silverleaf. The pattern became clearer. The broth carried. The mushroom gathered. The rice held. Silverleaf provided the active current. I added a small amount of redroot. Warmth spread through the pot immediately. Too much. I removed half.

The remaining piece softened the chill of the silverleaf without overwhelming it. The ingredients did not need to be forced together. They needed the correct conditions. I stirred slowly. A pale green current moved through the broth and settled into the rice. The cavern cap held the excess like a sponge. I sent a narrow thread of mana through the spoon. The current tightened. For one moment, the pot felt less like separate ingredients and more like a completed inscription. I stopped feeding mana into it.

The pattern remained. That was new. I tasted the porridge. Bitter. Not badly. It needed salt, ginger, and something rich enough to soften the metallic edge. I added a small amount of boar fat. The bitterness settled. I tasted it again. Acceptable. Nessa held out a spoon. I gave her one. She tried it. Her expression remained neutral.

"Well?" I asked.

"It tastes medicinal."

"That is undesirable."

"It also tastes good."

"That is more useful." She carried the bowl to the maintenance worker. Sela watched him take the first spoonful. Nothing happened immediately. That was expected. Food took time. I returned to the lunch orders. Amon's three dishes were ready. Nessa carried them out together.

"You allowed all three," he said.

"You are paying for all three."

"That seems fair."

"You also owe for the honey bun." Amon looked toward the door Mara had used.

"She said it was free."

"She did not tell me that." Nessa added it to his open order. Amon stared at the board.

"I respect the system less now." The lunch crowd began thinning. Several wall workers left for the afternoon shift. The tailors paid. Tomas attempted to take a second roll without adding it to his order. Nessa added it for him. The maintenance apprentice remained at his table. Color had returned to his face. He sat straighter. Sela noticed before he did.

"How do you feel?" she asked. He flexed his fingers.

"Warm."

"That may be the redroot," I said. He looked toward me.

"My head isn't swimming anymore."

"Food and rest would contribute." Sela gave me a familiar look.

"You say that every time."

"It remains true." The young man finished the bowl.

"Can I have another?"

"No." Nessa and I answered together. He looked between us.

"One portion is enough until I understand the effect," I said.

"It tasted good."

"That does not change the dosage."

"So it has a dosage," Sela said.

"It has ingredients."

"Medicinal ingredients."

"Food can contain medicinal ingredients."

"Then write down what you used."

"I was going to."

"Before you forget."

"I do not forget recipes." Nessa placed a notebook beside my hand.

"You forgot to record the morning meat delivery until I reminded you."

"That was inventory."

"It was written information." I opened the notebook. Silverleaf stem. One cavern cap. Small amount of redroot. Boar-bone broth. Rice. Ginger. Salt. Boar fat. I added approximate quantities. Then I wrote: Possible relief for ordinary mana depletion. Requires controlled testing. Not for channel injury. Sela read the final lines.

"That is responsible."

"I try."

"You also fed an experimental meal to a maintenance apprentice."

"The infirmary approved food."

"That is less responsible."

"He volunteered by eating it." The apprentice looked up.

"I was not told it was experimental." Nessa folded her arms. I added: Tell the next person first.

"That will help," she said. Sela paid for both meals and left an extra coin beside the bowl.

"For the paper?" I asked.

"For the apprentice you did not poison."

"That is not an appropriate tipping standard."

"It should encourage consistency." They left for the wall. The dining room became quiet. Amon remained at his table with the empty honey-bun wrapping folded beside his plate. Lysa and Perry entered shortly after. They saw Nessa clearing the final dishes. Perry looked toward the kitchen.

"Is lunch over?"

"Yes," I said. He lowered his ears. Nessa pointed toward the window table.

"Two bowls are under the warming cover." Perry's ears rose. Lysa looked at her.

"You saved them?"

"Joe did." They sat without asking what needed to be carried or cleaned. Nessa placed the food in front of them and returned to the counter. No bargain. No test. Only lunch. Mrs. Vale had been correct. I would need to remember that. Amon stood and brought his plates toward the kitchen. Nessa blocked him.

"Leave them on the counter."

"I am helping."

"You are attempting to enter the kitchen."

"They are plates."

"So were the ones yesterday." Amon looked at me.

"She is very strict."

"Yes."

"You approve?"

"Yes."

"That feels disloyal."

"You still have the shield scroll I made."

"That restores some balance." He placed the plates on the counter and left for the guild. Nessa waited until the door closed.

"Does he always bring strange objects?"

"Sometimes they are useful."

"The horn?"

"Undetermined." She looked toward the shelf.

"You're going to turn it into food."

"Possibly."

"That was not a suggestion." I began cleaning the smaller pot. The silverleaf current had faded from the metal. Most of it had remained within the porridge. That was encouraging. It was also another responsibility. Restorative fried rice eased physical fatigue. The new porridge might ease mana depletion. Clarity tea affected memory and focus. The food was becoming more specialized. People would begin asking for specific results. Some already had. I could not treat every request as another menu item.

Nessa erased the final lunch order from the board.

"What happens between now and evening service?" she asked.

"Cleaning. Preparation. Inventory. Rest."

"Which of those do you actually do?"

"All of them."

"You listed rest last."

"That does not remove it."

"When did you last sit down?" I looked toward the window.

"That is not a time."

"I sat while discussing wages yesterday."

"You were standing." I considered that. Nessa pointed toward an empty chair.

"Sit."

"I have vegetables to prepare."

"I can prepare vegetables."

"You said basic preparation."

"Vegetables are basic."

"The carrots need to be cut evenly."

"I worked in a butcher shop for six years."

"That does not guarantee consistent carrots." She picked up the knife. The first five pieces were equal. So were the next five. I sat. The chair felt unnecessary. Then the recovery array in my body—or perhaps ordinary exhaustion—made the room feel quieter once I stopped moving. Lysa and Perry ate by the window. Nessa prepared carrots at the kitchen table. The wall music drifted through the restaurant. Outside, the repaired western wall caught the afternoon light. One worker had been enough for lunch.

More than enough, once I allowed her to work. That appeared to be the difficult part. I opened my notebook. Under the recipe for the silverleaf porridge, I added: Fresh ingredients carry stronger, clearer currents. Some ingredients support the body. Some support mana. Effects depend on relationships, not individual strength. I looked toward Nessa's cutting board. Every carrot remained the same size. I added another line beneath the first. Delegation also appears to depend on relationships. Then I crossed it out.

That was not a useful cooking note. Nessa glanced over.

"What did you write?"

"Nothing relevant."

"You crossed it out."

"Yes."

"Then it was probably relevant." I closed the notebook. Evening service began in three hours. For once, I had time to prepare for it. I remained in the chair for another minute.