V: If the Lady didn’t want me here, she would tell me.
Elara read the rest of the conversation. Hardly surprising. That was the one thing that always set her teeth on edge about Vanessa. The woman didn’t have an ounce of loyalty in her. Still, she was one of her people.
“Where is he now?”
He pulled on his pants and ran outside to the construction crew.
That meant he would be at her door in a minute.
“Thank you.”
Rook nodded and slipped outside the door. Elara barred it and sat at her vanity. She had to do something about her hair. She couldn’t care less about what it looked like, but the wedding had to appear genuine. She had to keep up appearances. She would manufacture the glow for the sake of her people.
Someone pounded on her door.
“Go away.” Elara dipped her fingers into a small tub of lotion.
“Open the door.”
There was something about his voice that made people want to obey. Some imperceptible quality. It was probably very handy in the middle of battle.
“Go away. I’m not dressed, and you can’t see me before the wedding.”
“Open the door.”
“No.” She dabbed the lotion on her face and in the hollow of her neck and worked it into her skin.
The door took a hit with a hard thud. It was a heavy wooden door, reinforced with steel, but the few days she’d spent with d’Ambray convinced her that he could be extremely single-minded.
“If you break it, the money for the replacement will come out of your discretionary budget.”
Elara raised her hair up in a semblance of an updo. Ugh.
“Do you really want to do this through the door?”
“I don’t want to do it at all.”
“You cut the gas for my bulldozers.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s expensive.”
A furious silence fell. She imagined him on the other side of the door steaming and smiled.
“I need it. I need the gas.”
“We all need things.”
“Elara! We need to stay alive. The moat will keep us alive.”
Moat, moat, moat… Moat? Moat. Moat! Ugh.
“You want to dig a trench that is ten feet deep and seventy-five feet wide. That’s ridiculously large.”
“It has to be that large to function.”
Elara sighed and picked up the eyeshadow. Maybe rose gold?
“How are you planning to fill it up?”
“With water from the lake.”
“Are you planning to make the water flow up the hill?”
“No, I’ll pump it in.”
She put down her eyeshadow. “You want to pump the water into that massive trench? Do you have any idea how much fuel that will take? So we’ll be paying for the gas for that too?”
“It’s necessary.”
“Won’t the water just seep into the ground?”
“We’ll line the bottom with concrete.”
“So magic can crack it.”
“No, the magic won’t crack it, because we’ll use Roman concrete mixed by hand.”
Rose gold was working out nicely. “Don’t you need volcanic ash for Roman concrete?”
Another silence. She’d had a detailed discussion with the Dog he assigned as foreman before she took away their gasoline. It wasn’t her first construction project.
“Where are you going to get volcanic ash?” she asked.
“I’ll have it shipped from Asheville.”
“I wasn’t aware Asheville had suddenly sprouted volcanoes.” She blended a darker shade of the eyeshadow into the crease of her eyes.
“Asheville had a Cherufe manifestation five years ago. They have an entire mountain of volcanic ash and we can buy it dirt cheap.”
“More money.”
“Elara,” he growled.
“You’re building a money pit, except it’s not a pit, it’s a moat. Why not just line it with money and set that on fire when the vampires come?”
“It wouldn’t burn long enough. You will give me this moat. I’m trying to keep you and everyone in this place alive. Can you put a price on the safety of your people?”
“Yes, I can. The total operating cost of a single bulldozer is two hundred and thirty-seven dollars per hour. We have to factor in heavy use in soil that has been undisturbed for at least ten years; gasoline; lubricant; undercarriage adjustment for impact, abrasiveness and so on; repair reserve, parts and labor; and operator cost, since people do not work for free. Now we have to calculate the number of cubic yards of soil we must remove and transport somewhere else. Based on the dimensions of your trench—"
“Give me the moat or the wedding is off.”
For a moment, she literally saw red. Elara jumped to her feet and jerked the door open. He stood on the other side, wearing nothing except jeans and boots.
“I can’t believe you! You would endanger this wedding for your stupid moat?”
Hugh towered over her, his blue eyes dark. “Here is some math for you. Your settlement holds four thousand and forty-seven people, of which five hundred and three are children under the age of eighteen. When Nez comes, and he will, you will have three choices. You can evacuate, which means Nez will chase us down and slaughter everyone. You can hole up in the castle with the adults and send the children off, serving Nez a herd of hostages on a silver platter. Or you can hide everyone in the castle, which is the only real option you have.”
He leaned closer, his face vicious. “This place was designed for a staff of three hundred. It can comfortably hold five hundred in a pinch. You’ll have to pack four thousand terrified people, half of them parents with children, in here like sardines. Sanitation will go first. Sewage will start backing up. Water will be next. Your well will run dry. You’ll try to conserve it, while Nez lobs chunks of corpses his plague spreaders have seeded with diseases over your wall, but it won’t matter. The well will run dry anyway within a few weeks. Your people will start dying. Children and the infirm will be at the front of the line. You will watch them go one by one.”
She blinked.
“We can’t withstand a siege. We have to hit Nez so hard and so fast on his first charge, that he’ll decide besieging us is too expensive. To do that, we need defenses that work against undead. The moat is such a defense. Without it, this place is a death trap. I realize you don’t understand it, but you’re not in charge of our defenses. I am.”
White ice exploded inside Elara. “You have some nerve,” she snarled. “Your moat will cut my budget by a third!”
“Our budget.”
“Not yet, it’s not! I have to fund the school for this year. I have to feed three hundred extra people who earn no money. It doesn’t grow on trees. Did Roland not explain to you the concept of money when he doled out your allowance?”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know if you’re too thick to see it or if you’re on a power trip, so I’ll make it real simple for you: give me the moat or I’ll take my people and leave. I’m not dying here because you’re an idiot.”
“Arrogant dickhead!”
“Screeching harpy.”
“Asshole.”
“Bitch.”
The hunger clawed at her from the inside. It took every drop of her will to keep it from ripping out. She actually trembled with rage.
“You want to leave? Do it.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” he warned.
“Take your people and leave.”
A stomp made them turn toward the hallway.
Johanna handshaped the letter E and moved it down her hair, indicating length. “Elara.”
Johanna didn’t use the name sign she invented for her often, and normally that would’ve stopped Elara in her tracks, but she was too irritated.
“What?” she snarled.
“Important fighting moment,” Johanna said. “But heads of the Lexington Red Guard and Louisville Mage College are downstairs.” She pointed to the floor.
Hugh turned to her. “Why?”
Johanna brushed back her blond hair. “We invited them for the wedding to build good relations and to have witnesses. Don’t be dumb.”
She moved her fingers, her gestures brisk.