I tried not to grimace while I ate. Fucking potatoes.

They came with a packet of salt, which was nice. And a little block of soft lard, which was even nicer.

The coin pouch at my side shivered. I looked down and eyed it, trying not to be obvious about talking to an inanimate object in public.

“Not here.” I growled. “If you cause a fucking scene in another town, so help me God…”

It went still. “Thank you.”

“Maiden Janice?”

I looked up, potato all over my face. The guy who had been in line was looming at me.

“Yrrh?” I mumbled out, still chewing, more hungry than polite. “—That is I.”

Absolutely winning at this formal Revellionan-speech thing.

He cut his eyes to my potato. He paused, then looked back at my face and said “I am artificer Jen.”

“Ho, artificer Jen.” I said. Pretty sure that was polite.

He blinked and paused for a long moment, staring. Finally: “A good meet, maiden Janice. Do you have accommodations for the evening?”

“I don’– not.” I answered brilliantly, with no fumbling whatsoever.

His expression did something complicated I couldn't follow.

“My wife and I are obliged to have you stay the night. So you may start for the city in the morning.”

I paused. Stared a little. “I— thank you.” I said. “That’— is kind. I would appreciate that.”

“I will show you the way.”

I bundled up my half-eaten potato and we were off. He led me out of the market, going the opposite way I had come in.

We got maybe half a street before he started talking at me.

“We are a simple people.” He said. “A good people.”

Uh… “That— is good.” I said. Weird he felt the need to say that. Who says that? Good people don’t need to say that.

I walked on, following him. And now not a hundred percent sure I wanted to be following him.

He led me towards what looked like a smaller area of buildings, shopfronts with an upper story. All of the shops were closed.

He kept talking:

“It is, of course, your right to request rations.” He said, something hesitant in his voice. He paused, looked away. Looked back. “It is always, of course, your right.”

I slowed down a bit. Was this a lecture about me asking for rations without being from Zom? It was four potatoes.

I mean, these people weren’t doing well at all, granted, but four fucking potatoes wasn’t exactly going to change things for them.

I took a breath, annoyed and ready to mouth off. Then my brain engaged momentarily and I shut up again.

This guy was letting me stay the night. For free... (Probably.) If he wanted to rant, more power to him.

Fucking annoying, though.

He headed towards a side staircase. As we walked up I got a decent view of Zom. The part of town I could see looked… derelict.

“If you please,” Jen said, opening the door. I stepped inside.

Purple. All over the walls. So dark it was almost black near the baseboards.

It rode up in uneven streaks, fading. By the time it hit head height it was pale lavender.

He led me through the room— a workroom, I guess— into a small living area.

It was… rustic. The sofa reminded me of outdoor furniture, cushions on top of an L-shape of woven reeds. I plopped down on it.

“I am making soup tonight.” He said, grabbing a pot already half-full of water and making flames start under it on what looked like an old-timey stove. “It would stretch further if we had more starch for base.”

I stared at him for a second. Was he fucking serious? I had three and a half potatoes left that had to last me days.

“Even one can help.” Jen said, his voice firm. He turned and looked straight at me.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag. Total bullshit. But— free room for the night. Or, well, a room the price of a free potato. I dug into my bag and handed it over.

Jen had it chopped and in the pot posthaste. I tried not to think about how far one potato wasn’t going to go, even in soup.

He rummaged around in the cupboards, bringing out familiar brown cloth wrapped around a few shapes. In short order he had carrots, onions, and some type of leafy green added to the pot.

I really wanted to crash already. On this guy’s couch would have been fine. But I wasn’t going to be that rude. Also, I wasn’t sure I trusted the mimic to not un-transform itself and eat the guy if I wasn’t conscious.

I also didn’t want to impose… so I just sat there trying to stay awake, as awkward as possible, while this guy I didn’t know from Adam made me dinner in his house.

Yeah.

The door opened. A woman’s voice said “Ach, food! Lovely— Did you see that disrespectful chit at market? She barged her way into the relief line a— oh.”

I waved as she came into the room, ignoring her words. I’d seen her before— she’d been one of the people staring at me while I was in line.

“Veru.” Jen said. “This is Janice. She is from Sandwich.”

A complex series of emotions ran over Veru’s face. Then: “Welcome, honored guest. You will of course stay the night with us?”

“Uh…” I said, put on the spot. “... Yes?” I mean, Jen had offered.

She cut her eyes to Jen. “If you could tend the bed, darling.” She said, in the kind of voice that made me wonder if maybe sleeping rough under the stars was a better call.

“Of course,” he responded. He dropped the metal spoon he was using to stir and left the room.

“You must think us bumpkins.” Veru said, picking up the spoon and stirring. I blinked. That was… outright hostile.

“... No?” I answered. “I mean, you guys seem to do okay with what you’ve got.”

Her face flushed.

“Yes.” She said, her voice strained and angry. “We make due with what we are given.”

 

The next twenty or so minutes were excruciating. Veru hated me— that was easy enough to figure out— but I wasn’t sure why. It didn’t make sense for her to be this mad over one daily ration.

Jen came back in as the soup finished. Veru poured it straight from the pot into two bowls, giving one to Jen and one to me. She came over, spoon in hand, and sat down next to him on the longer end of the little rickety couch.

I ate quickly; at this point I just wanted to get to bed. This whole situation was weird. The vibe was off. It wasn’t The Hills Have Eyes, but I kinda regretted saying yes to the invitation.

It took until I was mostly finished eating to realize that Jen and Veru were sharing their bowl. I decided I was done after that.

“Thank you,” I said, because… jeez. Did they have the food to spare to be feeding me? Yikes. Very yikes. “I think I’— I will go to bed now.”

Veru showed me into the bedroom. The bed was maybe the size of a full and took up most of the room. Two windows looked out on the crappiness of Zom.

She wished me goodnight with sweet words and hard eyes, and shut the door.

I could half-hear them out in the living room, clearing the bowls and talking. I tuned them out, stripped down to my undies, left the mimic on top of my clothes, and crawled under the covers. Lumps pressed against my back, but it was still better than sleeping on the ground.

I was asleep in minutes.