Chương 55: Chapter 53 – Running flat out

Alric had followed Stromni's advice. Everyone had awoken early and eaten what he would call a real breakfast of bread, eggs, and bacon. Alric had privately wondered if the bread was harder than the wooden boards this world favoured over plates, but he ate it all anyway, largely out of stubbornness. The staff were a little shocked that someone would eat such a meal in the morning, but they put up with it, quietly chalking it up as just another Alric-ism, which had become a category rather than an exception.

Stromni joining them for breakfast had been a pleasant addition. He approved of any breakfast that included meat, and regarded this one as sound in principle if slightly optimistic in quantity. The table creaked slightly as people shifted on benches that had not been designed for lingering, or comfort, or in some cases forgiveness.

Alric was just stepping out into the warehouse when he started stretching, then stopped himself, remembering the point of this was for the staff to do most of the work and keep things running. He was not meant to be involved. Dust drifted lazily in the morning light spilling through the open space. Him not assisting was not strictly true. Until the roof frame was finished, he still needed to move the water himself. All of this was meant to give the brewery more independence from him.

He had considered filling the barrels and boilers the night before, but that felt too much like cheating, and also like the sort of thing that would come back to punish him later.

"Right then, I'm off to fetch water. Let's get started," Alric said. The staff nodded and began moving, footsteps overlapping as each went to their place with the quiet efficiency of people who had done this before and intended to survive doing it again. He stepped out back toward the wells. The cold air carried the smell of damp earth and stone.

Deciding to be flashy, he tried to use his item box to drop a barrel into each well at once, but the sensation was like trying to grow eyes in the back of his head, and just as useful. He grimaced and went back to lowering them one at a time. When he returned, he moved to the boilers. Everyone watched him expectantly. Hal had just set the filters onto both stands, the metal settling with a dull clack that sounded final.

Alric positioned the barrels so they began draining into the boilers, then turned toward the part he had been dreading, which had been waiting patiently. He placed a hand against the side of the magic stone charger, the small metal piece that could take mana cleanly and feed it into the sword hidden within. Only he and Stromni knew what it contained.

The staff understood it only as something that held magic, and he intended to keep it that way, mostly because explaining it would raise questions no one needed answered. He felt the instinctive sense of the tap and opened it. He grunted as mana rushed through him. Doing this one-handed made his arm feel hollow, drained, as if something important had briefly stepped out for air. The flow ended quickly. Alric felt older all at once. Hot. Sluggish. Like a light fever settling in and considering its options.

He stepped back, checked again for any stray light, and found none. The metal was warm beneath his palm, but not alarmingly so. Stromni was doing the same nearby, with the air of a man who trusted metal more than people.

"All right, Hal. Don't leave them in more than a moment or two, and always wear gloves," Alric said, stepping back. Hal nodded. He removed one of the stones from a boiler, handled it with gloved hands, and moved clear. Everyone stepped aside as he placed it into the shell, holding it steady as it made contact. The stone glowed, heat shimmering around it, and the air wavered faintly, as if reality itself was taking a cautious step back. Hal quickly returned it to the boiler.

He pulled the second stone free, moved to the bench, and paused.

"Does it matter which one I use?" Hal asked, nodding toward the shells. Both Alric and Stromni shook their heads. Hal repeated the process. The sound of water shifting in the boilers deepened as heat took hold, acquiring a tone that suggested it intended to become steam whether anyone approved or not. Before long, the water began to warm. It would be some time before it reached a boil. Steam crept along the copper lines in thin, uncertain threads, like something thinking about committing.

Henry moved to charge the two steamers, now mounted on their own table. It was a quiet change, but a sensible one, and clearly Stromni's work. The table's legs had been braced with wedges to keep it steady on the uneven floor, which it accepted with reluctant dignity.

"D'ye think we should stagger them?" Stromni asked pointing at the two boilers. Alric shrugged.

"It works out the same. It's more about what Hal's comfortable with. Easier to manage different timings, or just do it all at once. Once the frame's in and the barrels are moving on their own, he'll probably switch. For now, he sets the pace." Stromni nodded, satisfied.

"Ye gonnae open the roof?"

"When it gets too warm." A drip of condensation fell from a beam, darkening the stone below in a way that suggested the roof had its own thoughts on that. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Stromni stepped forward, inspecting the boilers as they heated.

"So now we just stand about while it warms?"

"Well, normally Hal would be dealing with roof adjustments, barrels coming in, things like that. And making sure his assistant doesn't try to boil himself."

"Reckon that'd add a new flavour?" Stromni said with a grin.

"Probably. Not one I'd want though. I'm more of a grilled meat fan." They both laughed, sharing the darker humour easily, the sound swallowed by the growing hiss of heat, which was less amused. The boilers reached a boil after a time. Hal went to the grain section and took a bag from the germination rack. The bags now had drawstrings and an added loop of rope for hooking. Grain dust clung to his sleeves as he lifted it, as if unwilling to be left behind.

Henry, acting as Hal's assistant for the day, steadily placed the steamed casks and connected them to the copper pipes from the distribution barrel. Each connection was checked twice before he moved on, because doing it once only proved you were optimistic. Stromni stood back, watching with quiet satisfaction. He moved closer to Alric.

"Ye run a tight thing here, lad. Ye'll need a timing device. They aint cheap." Alric nodded.

"There are marks on the boilers that show when to add things. As the water turns to steam, it gives them a guide. Still, we need a clock or something." He shrugged.

"There's a long list of things we still need. I'm just not worried about all of them yet." Stromni tilted his head.

"How's that, lad?"

"Since I started, we've been pushing just to make enough beer. Eventually, we'll be making the same beers day in and day out. Grain will change things a bit, but the same ale a month apart should taste the same." Stromni blinked, and Alric added, "Like the knives you showed me, back when we first met."

"Aye," Stromni said, satisfied.

"Well then, lad, if that's it, I'm off tae the roof." He turned away, boots thudding softly on the stone floor, which accepted the impact with long-suffering patience. The boils continued without trouble. The first three passed cleanly. Heat built until the space felt smaller, the air heavy against the skin, as though the warehouse were quietly considering whether it preferred people or steam.

"Uh, Mister Alric?" Hal called. Alric blinked and stepped over. The heating stone had not warmed when placed in the charger. He frowned and examined it. Nothing seemed wrong. The metal felt inert, unhelpfully so. He reached for the charging point again, and the realisation hit him too late. The second drain was deeper. He had not recovered enough.

"Ugh," he grunted as his mana nearly bottomed out. Everything felt hot and heavy. His vision swam. Sound dulled into a ringing haze. Shapes were in front of him, but he could not make them out. The floor seemed too far away, he felt himself drifting sideways. Someone took his wrist. He was being led. Two hours later, he woke with a pounding ache behind his eyes. The pain faded slowly, as if reconsidering whether it was worth the effort. He was in his room. The light had shifted.

He was still wearing his boots, caked with dust that suggested he had not gone quietly. He swung his legs off the bed. When he stood, he had to brace himself against the wall, but he managed. The wooden walls creaked faintly as he moved. He started back toward the warehouse.

"Mister Alric! Please sit down!" Seren's voice cut through the fog. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen. A pot simmered quietly at the back, apparently unaware of the day's events. He sat, and food appeared in front of him with the efficiency of people who had done this before.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You touched the box again and nearly collapsed. We put you to bed," Seren said gently.

"I see. How many boils did we do?" Seren clicked her tongue. Mara raised a hand, showing five fingers.

"How many charges did—""Mister Alric, please eat. We can sort the rest tomorrow," Seren said firmly. He nodded, properly chastised. Hunger hit him all at once, and he ate quietly while the table stayed subdued, spoons scraping softly against bowls in a way that suggested agreement.

"Stromni?" Alric asked.

"Went home after working on the frame. Said he wasn't surprised," Hal replied. Alric nodded and returned to his food. The room felt too warm now, the heat lingering long after the work had stopped, as if unwilling to let go. There were new problems now. Many of them. He glanced at Seren. Tomorrow. It was morning when Alric stood frowning at the charging station. The stone floor was cool beneath his feet, which he appreciated. Seren watched him closely. He sighed and tried again.

Mana flowed out, but this time it barely hurt at all. He stepped back, frowning deeper. Why? Did I just top it up?

"I'm fine. Truly," he said as Seren approached. She stepped away, but kept him in sight, just in case his definition of fine differed from everyone else's.

"Hal, we're running again. I need you to count how many times the stones get charged," Alric said. Hal hesitated, fingers tightening on his gloves, but Alric shook his head.

"This wasn't the problem we expected yesterday. We don't fix it before we understand it. We run until it's empty." Seren nodded once. Noticing everyone watching him, Alric did the only thing that came to mind. He began dancing badly, boots scuffing against the stone with no particular rhythm.

"What? If you're all going to be miserable, I'm not joining you," he said, shuffling toward the wells with an awkward jig that no one would later admit to remembering clearly. He heard Hal and Mara start to giggle. Seren didn't laugh, but the corner of her mouth twitched. He counted it as a win.