Nightfall couldn’t come soon enough! I kept pacing, having sent my workforce to the woodlot and Lyrelle Forest to harvest wood and stone, the simplest of construction materials. Even the soul chamber and crypt only required stone to build, and I was glad it wasn’t anything too complicated.

  With five workers and a rabbit overseeing the entire resource gathering, I spent the morning planting seeds while the workforce was out. Thankfully, I also had time to tally my wealth.

  I had 270 gold pieces of dirty money. Two hundred of it had to be reserved for the Altar itself. I wasn’t sure what to do with the unclean money, but really, I could use it for mostly everything that wasn’t big or suspicious. Like new clothing.

  Jasmine and I were going to split the Uncommon carrots when she had the chance. With how worried she was, and being the only other person who really needed the low tender, it seemed right. It also gave her a commission, which meant she was more inclined to try hard.

  That was 21 gold and 20 silver of clean money that I could use for anything and everything.

  In total, I made about 290 gold pieces, and if I was able to use all of it at once, it’d be a significant portion of the debt. But I couldn’t. The Hart Stop was far too new to suddenly pull out 100 gold pieces out of nowhere, and even with a partner at the shopfront selling during the market hours, Uncommon carrots weren’t exactly in high demand.

  The illegal items? Sold instantly. There weren’t enough sales yet—if any at all—to start laundering. And with the time delays between crops and harvest and selling, it had too many ups and downs.

  I was already a week into the second month of spring. My current bottleneck was the nine seed makers that produced nine pouches of seeds.

  However, that only really was a bottleneck if I did everything in sequence. If I stuck with a crop schedule of four days with a maximum of 81, I’d be hogtied to any variation of 81 carrots—blood or normal.

  Unless I did crop rotation. Well, not exactly crop rotation, but something I had learned at the Academy. Lumberjacks would often have ten acres of wood and only cut one, which they’d reseed. Over time, this meant that all ten acres would be cut down, and the “youngest” one would be at ten years as well. It enabled them to keep having harvests if they were willing to forgo instant gratification.

  I could do something similar. I had three facts in front of me.

  1) I was currently bottlenecked by the nine seed makers.

  2) Seed makers took 24 hours to convert a crop into seeds.

  3) Uncommon crops took four days to grow. Rare would take five. Masterwork would take seven.

  I did have to note that the third fact was only true for carrots, but it didn’t change my thought process.

  If I took a page out of the lumberjack manual, I could emulate the idea and have a constant rotation of crops to sell.

  This harvest, I’d just need to make 45 normal crops. Nine would instantly be pushed into the seed maker. The rest could be blood crops, but then I wouldn’t be able to sell them. At this phase of the operation, I needed to have a public face, so it’d all be normal crops.

  The first nine of the 45 would enter the seed maker, giving me 24 hours of doing nothing. There’d be no crops planted.

  After those nine were done, I could plant those. The next nine of the 45 would enter, and I’d have three things happening at once.

  The first crop rotation would be at one day old. The second crop rotation would be at zero. The seed makers would be making an additional rotation.

  I could continue this on. Twenty-seven out of 45. Thirty-six out of 45. Forty-five out of 45.

  At 45 out of 45, the first crops I planted would be at maturity. I could then sacrifice nine of the new harvest to plant for the next day, and sell the remainder.

  Keeping it going like that, I’d be selling 72 crops every day after the fifth day, rather than 72 crops every four days.

  I’d just have to be willing to not have any money for the first week.

  This of course scaled up to Rare—I’d just need to go 54 (six days’ worth of seeds), and for Masterwork, it’d take 72 (eight days’ worth of seeds).

  This wouldn’t inherently give me more crops overall, but it’d allow a constant money flow.

  I had finished watering all 81 carrots by the time this plan came to be, and the sun was dipping below the horizon. Doing all of this every day was exhausting.

  I was very glad I didn’t often have to.

  My workforce came back with their resources. I put them down near where I wanted the basement to begin, and then sent them back into the forest to harvest more.

  Mirchie, however, decided to stay behind with me, as the order “do it again” wasn’t very complicated for their undead brains to figure out.

  Jasmine and Madeleine came together with sunlight still peeking over the edge. Jasmine was wearing very thick leather with a plated hat. Her blonde hair spilled from the side, tangled on the straps. On her belt were tools of many different styles.

  Madeleine, however, looked… cozy. I didn’t realize she had other colours in her wardrobe that weren’t black, but she showed up in blues and whites. The dress still screamed “I’m going to a tavern to pick up the first stranger I see” rather than “working with my hands,” but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

  She has turned several people into newts, after all.

  And then I felt colder hands than my own touch my shoulder. Ophelia had elected to come in her maid uniform, as her red eyes sparkled in the sun.

  “I spent the entire morning traversing the Forest, Lady Hart,” she informed me. Her solemn expression broke into a smile as her arm wrapped around my waist.

  That was immediately joined in with a warm body atop us both. “ORPHY! I MISSED YOU!” Jasmine’s voice rang out.

  Ophelia scoffed, easily pushing both of us off her—though she was on me. “It’s been barely a week, Ms. Carnwich. Didn’t I tell you that you should give your mouth a break so others’ ears can rest?”

  “Yeah! But now I don’t work for you, Orphy! So you gotta listen to me talk, especially since I’m the one building the basement.”

  “Curious,” Ophelia answered, but her smile didn’t fade from her face. Her eyes continuously turned towards the sun, watching it dip over the horizon.

  “What’s so strange about that, Orphy? You know I’m good with making things! You were even watching the kart races.”

  Ophelia shook her head, and then turned her attention to Madeleine. “Ms. La Croix, I assume?”

  “We’ve met many times, souris.” Madeleine responded, returning her stare. They said nothing to each other, causing Jasmine and I to stop fussing about.

  Jasmine popped up between them. “Yes, we have! Anyways, let’s begin working. Ashley, you wanted a basement, right? Do you want a bigger house too?”

  “Kind of? But that’s too quick, isn’t it.”

  “Yes, it is, Lady Hart,” Ophelia plainly stated. “A basement is something a commoner can easily make. Expanding your house with only what you have on hand?”

  Her eyes turned to the field. “And, with how scrawny you are, no one would believe you planted those carrots and acquired all the resources needed alone.”

  “Thanks, Ophelia,” I muttered.

  “My pleasure, Lady Hart.”

  “Actually, pipelette. Could you take souris and begin the construction? The basement is not a four-person job, and it would give you and your… friend time to catch up.”

  “Hear that, Orphy? We’re going to work together again!” Jasmine shouted, raising her arms to Ophelia. Ophelia gave a polite grin, but pushed Jasmine’s arms down.

  “I cannot believe I am saying this, but… lead the way, Ms. Carnwich.”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “Awh, Orphy. We’re friends now! You can just call me Jazzy.”

  “I am aware, Ms. Carnwich.”

  Jasmine tugged Ophelia to the side. She placed the blueprints down, and the two began to dig and place.

  Madeleine coughed, grabbing my attention. “Chérie, were you actually a [Scholar] or not?”

  I looked at the dirt, kicking my feet. “...I was going to be.”

  “Good. That makes more sense. You might have seen that you only get one hero class, correct?”

  “Yes?”

  “I had spoken to my coven for advice, and I think I know how to solve your next problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It might not be an issue, but if it were to happen, I must ask. Were people aware that your goal was to be a [Scholar]?”

  “Plenty, yes?”

  “And they were aware what happens to a [Scholar]?”

  “...Can you get on with it?”

  “A [Scholar] who can do actual magic—and not the small things I see your quaint villagers doing—is given an opportunity to become something more. For now, I want you to remember that. If what I think is going to happen happens, I want you to know I have a plan.”

  “That’s not ominous at all. Why can’t you tell me right now?”

  “Because it might not be necessary. You already have a lot on your mind,” Madeleine stated, before reaching forward and patting my shoulder. “Besides, chérie, I will be introducing you to my co—”

  “DONE!” Jasmine shouted from behind us.

  Ophelia dusted off her hands, while Jasmine stood beside the massive hole. “Ms. Carnwich, when Ms. La Croix said that we would work together, I had been under the assumption you’d be digging.”

  “I was digging! But… how are you so fast and not getting tired?”

  “...I do not know. The land here feels… warm and welcoming. Lady Hart, may I move my coffin here?”

  “If you protect me from bandits.”

  “The contract is fo—”

  “...You can stay. Stop being creepy,” I quickly corrected myself.

  “As you wish, Lady Hart. I will see to it that my belongings are brought here when the abode is more pleasant.”

  I shook my head. At some point, Ophelia would give me a compliment that wasn’t backhanded. Both Madeleine and I walked towards the hole, which was, in fact, a dirt hole. I looked at Jasmine.

  “Oh right, sorry!” she quickly said. Her eyes looked forward as her lips read something.

  The hole slowly filled up with wooden braces and a cellar door. The stones became the landing, connecting neatly to the back of my little cottage. Jasmine opened the cellar door and stepped against the wooden staircase that led down.

  It was cramped, and my head scraped against the dirt ceiling. I glowered at Jasmine, who gave me an apologetic shrug. Both she and Madeleine had plenty of headspace, while Ophelia was at least comfortable.

  “Okay, Orphy. Ashy also wanted a spot to store the seed makers, and another wing.”

  Ophelia glared at Jasmine, but did as she was told. Her hands broke the dirt, and Jasmine moved up to talk it through. The two areas materialized, constructing out of the resources and effort the pair had done.

  “What do you think, Ashley?” Jasmine asked, her voice hooking upwards like a child’s. Her face was too close to mine, and I pushed her away.

  “It looks really swell, Jasmine. I just need one more thing.”

  Madeleine stepped beside me and stared at the stone wall at the other end. Ophelia looked at Madeleine, before shrugging and joining her stare.

  “Have you made wine before, chérie?”

  “No?”

  “Before you do what you’re doing, ask pipelette to make the entire back wall filled with kegs. You will not use the central one.”

  Ophelia and I looked at Jasmine, who sighed. “You’re lucky wine barrels don’t take too long to make…”

  She got to work and created ten wine barrels, one for each square of the back wall. Madeleine then approached the center one and took out a silver knife.

  I could see Ophelia visibly tense. She took a step back, but my arm went to her side to brace her. I just nodded at her, and she returned a sheepish grin.

  Madeleine’s knife went to the tap. It notched against the center three times.

  The keg then disappeared!

  Madeleine smiled to herself, and then tapped the tap once more. “I would fill this one with water. While it is empty, it can be made to disappear.”

  She stared at the stone wall behind it. “Onwards, Ms. Hart.”

  The next part was easy. I moved to the stone and looked at what I could build.

  The easiest point was the crypt, since it stored the bodies and undead.

  “Ophelia,” I began.

  “Yes, Lady Hart?”

  “Can you break this in, create a one-tile entrance for a door, and then make a ten by ten room?”

  “Yes, Lady Hart. Ms. Carnwich, that is how you give a proper command. Not this vague nonsense.”

  “Hey! Orphy! I thought we were friends.”

  Ophelia didn’t respond. She instead moved forward to clear the path. Her body moved with ease, and there were no signs of tiredness, fatigue, or even wear. Her hands got bruised for a moment, but that also quickly regenerated.

  In less than thirty minutes, the area was cleared out.

  “Orphy! Why don’t you use a shovel?”

  “My claws are stronger than the tools of man.”

  “Souris, what was that? Are you part of some drama troupe?”

  Ophelia huffed, but didn’t pay either of them any attention.

  I, for my part, just focused. Stones spilled from my inventory and began to place themselves on the cleared dirt. They stacked together into intricate patterns, creating alcoves and caskets. Sconces of green flames lit up, but most impressive to all three of us was the fresco.

  On the east wall—where I stood to block its view—was an emaciated figure that looked oddly feminine. Her dark skin hung like leather to her visible bones, and she wore a veil. Her own black skeletal arms crossed over her chest. To her left were [Night-Things], from vampires, drakhuul, ghouls, and monsters. To her right were the [Undead]—zombies, skeletons, liches, banshees, the wyrd.

  Jasmine immediately puked. “Blessed Amaril, I stand in your gaze, daughter of your flock… protect me from this evil, and all evil.”

  She wiped her mouth as Madeleine offered her a napkin. Madeleine then picked Jasmine up, stroking her back. I noted Madeleine didn’t look at the fresco either.

  Ophelia, however, walked towards it, her pale hands touching the ink. She was in awe and reverie, her nails scratching into the stone.

  “Mistress? I will take abode here as soon as possible, if you will allow me.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise, souris,” Madeleine croaked. Ophelia didn’t turn her head, but I could see her eyes move as far to the side as they could go, before returning to the fresco.

  “I’m with Madeleine here, Ophelia,” I apologetically stated. “Let me figure out what happens to the dead here before I subject you to it.”

  “I… see,” her voice sounded low and hollow. Bitterness? Sadness? I couldn’t tell.

  What I could tell was I was the only one unaffected by it, and while I initially had plans to make the Altar to Rhyvesta at the very back, I approached and gently pushed Ophelia to the side.

  My hand touched Rhyvesta’s form, and it slowly slid aside. “One-tile entrance, ten by ten again, Ophelia.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Ophelia began to work, as Jasmine stepped outside. Madeleine followed, but then returned by herself. She shook her head. “Sitting on the dirt.”

  I nodded to Madeleine. Jasmine didn’t need to be involved in this part, as I entered the new hollow.

  Gold coins and a soul. “Ophelia, do you know where I can get an Uncommon soul?”

  She stared at me. “Matthew kills the strongest of our servants for that. Did you not do that earlier?”

  I completely forgot. “Okay, while I come back, please find another free wall and make a room five by five. That’ll be for my special storage.”

  Ophelia nodded, and I headed out. Madeleine followed me.

  We both came upon Jasmine, crouching on the floor outside the basement, head on her knees and arms wrapped against her thighs. I wanted to move by, but… I already said Jasmine was my sister.

  I slowly approached, and saw Madeleine crack a smile. She came from the other end. I looked at her, and she again shook her head. She rose a finger to her lips, and then stroked Jasmine’s spine.

  None of us said anything for a moment—long enough for Ophelia to wander out as well and see the three of us sitting on the dirt, looking at nothing.

  She audibly sighed, but then approached Jasmine from behind too.

  “Are you alright… Jasmine Carnwich.”

  “I just saw the face of the Enemy! The Grand Deceiver!” she hoarsely whispered, staring into the dirt.

  Ophelia’s mouth opened again, but Madeleine’s hand waved up. I heard nothing escape from the vampire’s mouth. Madeleine just squeezed her side.

  “You’ll be alright, my dear,” she cooed. “The gods have long since been quiet.”

  “How is that better?!” Jasmine whispered.

  Madeleine tilted her head. “There is no divine law that decides if we are good or evil. It is but the act of man and what you tolerate. Do you allow a church that would rather see you be a [Whore] than confront a monster like your former master to dictate to you the terms of your morality?”

  Jasmine’s head turned to look at Madeleine’s face. “I mean, they just can’t—”

  I wrapped my arm around Jasmine’s shoulder this time, and pulled Ophelia down too. “Jasmine. I’m worse than a vampire to the eyes of the state since I can’t afford my taxes. Ophelia here is acting like a nutter, but she was, until a few days ago, a slave to her father. I know you think this is all wrong…”

  And I do too.

  I swallowed. “But at some point, our life is what we make of it. I know you don’t like any of this, but… we’re in this together. You won’t ever have to deal with my side of our work.”

  Jasmine’s head swivelled, her eyes boring into mine. “ASHLEY. YOU CREATED A FRESCO TO THE GRAND ENEMY. YOU ARE CREATING AN ALTAR TO HER.” Her voice was too loud in the empty night, but Madeleine, nor I, stopped her from shouting.

  “...I know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. But… Amaril didn—”

  “Amaril gave you a boy who loved you, a priest who wants to help you who you won’t meet, and a community,” she immediately shot back.

  “...And he gave you a master that abuses his servants, a friend that insults you and won’t take you with her to the capital, and your ‘sister’ being a necromancer. I don’t think that either of us had anything to do with Amaril.”

  Ophelia shoved Madeleine, who finally released her grasp. “...It is just life. What you make of it is what you will have, Ms… Jasmine. It is only in the dreams of children that you can remain pure.”

  Madeleine quietly laughed. “The first time I hexed someone into a newt, I was wracked with guilt. That stopped after I made a person who raped a woman into a pig. There is no divine truth, Jasmine. There are only things you stand for, and things you do not. All roads eventually lead to ruin: you must decide which one you want.”

  Jasmine sighed. “This isn’t easy, you know. I just wanted a job to get married and support Nathaniel and me, not… whatever this is. I’m running blood to people! I’m becoming like you.”

  “Adrian’s killed plenty,” I flatly admitted. “He’s only justified because the church approves of it. I’ve killed… one person, and that’s because they were going to kill Ophelia.”

  Ophelia shrugged. “I’ve eaten hundreds for food.”

  Madeleine pushed Ophelia. “I’ve done my share of wicked things. You will too. Even if you were to remain a maid—you refused to sell out her father to the Inquisition, no? I won’t fault you for fear, but courage exists after that.”

  “...Fine,” Jasmine finally said. “I’ll come with you. But, Ash—”

  I sighed, and stopped her from talking. For the first time in my life, I leaned in to someone else.

  And I kissed her cheek.

  “Jazzy, I promise, I’ll have your back.”

  Madeleine kissed her other cheek. “My coven is a sisterhood of choice. I see this as another coven.”

  “I’m not kissing her to join your group. I am joining your group,” Ophelia flat out stated.

  Jasmine had tears in her eyes, before standing. “Walk a lady down, then, Orphy?”

  Ophelia glared at Jasmine, but took her arm in her own. Madeleine nodded at me and smiled, “I was worried the Enemy had your soul. I am less concerned about the next step now… chérie.”

  I nodded, and grabbed the soul on my counter.

  Rhyvesta’s Altar awaited.