Lilith Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 9 of 21

The food came every dawn now, but by noon it turned. Lilith lifted the milk jug and smelled it. Sour. The oats had gone slick with damp. She dumped the ruined milk in the snow and watched the goat sniff the empty bin. Her larder had no cold room, and the apothecary stayed warm from the animal pens. Fresh food arrived each morning and spoiled before dusk. Her animals would go hungry again, not from lack, but from waste. Liko jumped onto the counter and studied the curdled jug. He had known her since she was a child, and he weighed problems the way she weighed remedies. "You solved the hunger," he said. "Now you must keep what you're given. Milk needs cold. Snow is cold, but snow melts near your stove." "Then I dig," Lilith said. "A pit outside, packed with snow." "A pit floods when the thaw comes," Liko said. "You need something that holds cold and hides in plain sight. The town watches your door." Lilith frowned. A cellar would take weeks she did not have. Liko flicked his tail toward the back shelf. There sat a small black box edged in gold, left behind by the old apothecary. She had shelved it and forgotten it. "That box grows," Liko said. "I have watched it before. Ask it plainly. Tell it what your animals need." Lilith lifted the box. It was cold to the touch, colder than the room. A small grille sat on its front, like a mouth. She felt foolish, but she bent close. "I need to keep milk and grain from spoiling," she said. "Cold storage. Something that stays." The box hummed. Its lid unfolded, then its sides, growing past her hands until it stood taller than the goat. Frost crept across the black surface. When she opened the wide door, cold air rolled out and fogged the floor. Inside, shelves waited, dry and freezing. Lilith carried the morning's baskets to it. She set the fresh milk on the top shelf, the oats below, the hay against the back wall. She shut the door. When she opened it an hour later, the milk was still sweet. She tasted it to be sure. "It holds," she said. Her voice shook. She filled the goat's bin from the cold shelf, then the rabbits' trays. Every animal ate. Liko watched her from the counter. "Now the food lasts. But that box speaks, and it promised more than cold. Boxes like that always want a price." Lilith looked at the grille on the box's front. It had gone quiet, but it had answered her once. She latched the door and stepped back. Her animals were fed and would stay fed. That was enough for tonight. Whatever the box wanted, it had not yet named it.