Chương 17: Inventory

Gareth set the red-iron box on the workshop floor harder than he meant to. The lid rattled, and everyone in the room stepped back. For several seconds, nothing moved inside the dented container. Gareth kept both gloved hands raised anyway, palms turned outward, as though the box might accuse him of touching it.

"I'm done carrying that." Chloe crouched beside the workbench and looked from the box to the ceramic lining she had packed around the hook and wedges.

"You tilted it."

"I walked through half the castle while it knocked at me."

"It tapped twice."

"It was enough." Marcus shut the workshop door behind them. Will remained in the corridor with the reinforced railing across his chest, watching the route back toward King's Gate. Eleanor unfolded the visitor map on a clear section of the bench and held one corner down with a jar of rusted screws.

"The box stays here," she said.

"Away from the chapel, the prototype, and the cores." Chloe glanced toward the shelves.

"The lower cabinet has stone sides and a metal door. I can line it with ceramic."

"Will the metal door be a problem?"

"Possibly. I'll use the cupboard underneath the old sink instead. It's wood, and the pipes were disconnected years ago." Gareth shook his head.

"Mice got into that cupboard." Thomas looked at the red-iron box.

"The mice can have it."

"No," Chloe said.

"They absolutely cannot." She found a stack of old floor tiles beneath the workbench and began clearing the cupboard. A dead mop head, two empty detergent bottles, and a plastic bag full of mismatched fittings came out first. Gareth corrected her twice when she tried to throw something away.

"That bracket belongs to the west display case."

"The west display case is missing its front."

"It could still need a bracket." Chloe dropped it into a separate pile.

"Fine. Important historical rubbish goes there." Thomas stayed near the doorway with his spear summoned until the red-iron box had been moved into the cupboard. Chloe lined the floor and sides with broken tile, then slid the container into place using a length of wood rather than her hands. The hook tapped the lid once when the box crossed the threshold. Gareth left the workshop. Will watched him pass.

"You all right?"

"I'm going back to the chapel where the dangerous objects are normal." Eleanor waited until the cupboard door was tied shut with electrical cable.

"Label it." Chloe wrote RED IRON — DO NOT OPEN on a strip of masking tape and pressed it across the door. Eleanor added a second strip beneath it. ASK CHLOE, THOMAS, OR MARCUS FIRST. Chloe read the addition.

"You could have stopped after my name."

"No, I couldn't have young lady. We both know you need more than 1 point of contact." They returned to the chapel with the maintenance log, the visitor map, and two empty storage crates. Marcus left Will at the workshop route until another person could take the position. By the time Thomas crossed the barricade, Eleanor had already started moving the room again. They folded blankets and pushed them against one wall. Margaret cleared space beside the food.

Priya shifted her treatment area nearer the narrow window, where morning light reached the floor. People woke slowly and badly, asking what had happened at the gate or whether the quest had completed. Eleanor answered the same question three times before raising her voice.

"We need everyone awake for ten minutes. Bring forward anything you carried into the chapel—bags, food, water, medicines, tools, batteries, spare clothes. Keep personal items with you. We only need to know what is here." A man near the back pulled his rucksack closer to his chest. Margaret saw it.

"No one is taking your bag." He looked unconvinced.

"We need to know whether there are six bottles of water in the room or sixteen," she continued.

"You can keep them beside you afterwards, though we're going to discuss rationing." That last word produced more movement than the request had. People began opening bags. A woman handed over two packets of crisps and a crushed cereal bar. Someone else had three phone chargers, none useful without power. A family produced a half-full bottle of children's paracetamol, wet wipes, two jumpers, and a plastic container of grapes that had survived the night better than most of the people.

Thomas sat beside Eleanor with the maintenance log open.

"What headings?" he asked. She looked around at the growing piles.

"Food. Water. Medical. Tools. Clothing and bedding. Weapons."

"Mana materials," Chloe said from behind him. Eleanor glanced at her.

"Separate page." Thomas drew lines across the paper while people spoke over one another.

"Two unopened bottles."

"One's already been drunk from."

"That still counts."

"I have batteries, but I don't know whether they work."

"Put them with Gareth."

"Where is Gareth?"

"Asleep, if he has any sense." Gareth's voice came from the wall.

"I'm awake."

"Then you can count batteries," Eleanor said. He pushed himself upright and held out his good hand. Thomas recorded numbers as Margaret called them. She opened every food package long enough to check its size and whether it could be divided. Personal snacks became part of the count only after the owners agreed. A few people hesitated. Eleanor did not pressure them, though Margaret made sure they understood that shared rations depended on shared information. One man refused to include two chocolate bars in his coat.

Margaret looked at him for a long moment.

"Keep them. When we calculate meals, I'll leave you out of the evening ration until their calories are accounted for." He stared at her.

"I'm not punishing you. I need the count to work." He handed over the bars. Thomas wrote them down without looking up. Marcus moved through the room while the inventory continued. He asked people what weapons they had and whether they had used them during the night. Most had broken furniture, kitchen knives, or tools found around the castle. One woman had a small can of pepper spray. A teenager had carried a decorative sword from one of the displays until Gareth told him it had a blunt edge and a loose handle.

"Keep it for now," Marcus said.

"Don't swing it near anyone." The teenager lowered it.

"Then what's it for?"

"Looking dangerous until we find you something better." Marcus took names for the next watch. He asked about injuries before experience, and Priya interrupted whenever someone understated one. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"I can hold the corridor," Gareth said.

"You can sit near the corridor," Priya replied.

"My arm works."

"Your arm is stitched, swollen, and attached to a man who thinks pain is an administrative obstacle." Gareth opened his mouth. Priya turned to Marcus.

"He can carry messages and identify tools. No fighting." Marcus wrote that down. Daniel tried to volunteer from the floor. His burned leg was wrapped from knee to ankle.

"I can watch a doorway."

"You can watch one from a chair," Priya said.

"For an hour. Then the leg goes back up." Daniel leaned against the wall and muttered something Thomas did not catch. Amy sat beside him with a cup of water.

"She said you can help."

"She said I can sit."

"You're very good at sitting now." Daniel looked at her, then accepted the cup. Eleanor asked Thomas to add a page for people—name, injury, class, previous work, anything useful they could do. The request made the chapel uneasy again. Classes were still new enough to feel private, particularly for people whose choices had appeared while monsters were tearing through the castle.

"We don't need every skill," Eleanor said.

"Only what you are comfortable using for the group." A retired teacher had received Archivist. A delivery driver had become a Route Runner and could remember every path he had taken since integration with unusual clarity. One visitor had chosen Field Cook after years in restaurant kitchens. The man who had guarded his chocolate bars had a class called Storekeeper and looked embarrassed when Margaret took an interest.

"What does it do?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I am good at protecting and maintaining supplies. I can tell when something is missing." Margaret moved a crate toward him.

"Good. Sit here."

"I didn't say I wanted—""I'm still counting. You can tell me when I mess up." He sat down after a moment and began correcting the food piles. Thomas used Study twice. The first time was on the Route Runner after the man struggled to explain whether his memory included blocked passages. The System gave Thomas a name, level, class, and low danger rating—nothing about the skill itself. The second use was on a woman who had selected Seamstress and thought the class was useless.

Study did not provide enough detail to change her mind, but Margaret handed her a stack of torn blankets and asked whether they could become bandages, wraps, or warmer bedding. The woman ran her fingers over the fabric.

"I need scissors." Gareth pointed toward the workshop route.

"Top drawer beside the sink. Three pairs if Chloe hasn't redistributed them."

"I heard that," Chloe called. Thomas wrote Seamstress beside the woman's name and left the skills column blank. When they counted the people, Eleanor took the log and read the total twice. Thirty-one survivors in the chapel and nearby rooms. Seven carried injuries that limited movement. Three required regular treatment. Five could hold a barricade or fight with some confidence. More could be trained, though Marcus didn't know how long that would take.

Priya had enough clean dressings for another day if injuries remained minor. Disinfectant was low. Painkillers were worse. Amy's healing helped, but every use tired her, and Priya refused to treat mana as an excuse to run through medical supplies carelessly. The tool count went better. Gareth and Chloe found more than anyone expected once they had workshop access.

Hammers, pry bars, hand saws, screwdrivers, nails, brackets, cable, gloves, dust masks, a small vice, and enough timber from broken displays to rebuild the lower barricade. Several tools were missing or damaged, but the castle had been maintained by people who understood that old buildings created new problems every week.

"We can replace the chapel barricade today," Gareth said.

"Build a frame into the doorway instead of piling furniture across it." Marcus looked toward the entrance.

"Can it still open from inside?"

"If we hinge one side. Or build removable crossbars."

"Crossbars." Eleanor marked the job beside the workshop route.

"How long?" Gareth looked at Will's shoulder, then at the available timber.

"Four hours if people listen. Six if Chloe helps." Chloe looked up from a crate of electrical parts.

"I'm working on the prototype."

"Four hours, then." The food count took longer. Margaret and the Storekeeper spread everything across two blankets. Tins formed one group. Packaged food formed another. Fresh food amounted to the surviving grapes, two apples, and half a sandwich no one wanted to claim. Thomas watched the numbers change as Margaret divided serving sizes and crossed out anything already opened or spoiled. She asked for a calculator. Nobody had one that worked. Thomas offered the maintenance log. Margaret looked at him.

"I need arithmetic, not paper."

"I can do arithmetic."

"So can I. I wanted it faster." They worked through it together. Thirty-one people. Normal meals were impossible. Reduced portions stretched the food, but several injured people needed more, and children could not be treated as smaller adults indefinitely. The Field Cook joined them and suggested combining tins, ration bars, and anything bland enough to share. The Storekeeper caught two mistakes in the count without checking the paper. Margaret stared at him after the second.

"I told you," he said.

"I know what's missing."

"Stay there." He stayed. By midday, the piles had become rows of labelled crates. The chapel looked more crowded, though people could find what they needed without opening six bags first. Eleanor assigned the Storekeeper responsibility for issued supplies, with Margaret controlling food and water. He accepted after confirming that responsibility did not mean ownership. Chloe waited until the ordinary inventory had settled before bringing out the mana materials.

The barghest cores remained wrapped in cloth inside a wooden box. The full cores gave off the same low pressure Thomas remembered from the first night. Several small shards from the remnants lay in a glass jar, their surfaces dull in daylight. The redcap materials stayed in the workshop. Thomas placed the spearhead on the table beside the cores. Chloe moved it away from them.

"The red iron pulled at the echo," she said.

"Until we know whether other materials interact, keep bonded objects separate from active cores." Thomas returned the spearhead to his pocket. They counted four usable barghest cores, one damaged core, and eight remnant shards. Chloe labelled the full cores as power sources. The red iron received its own line under regulation and binding, followed by three warnings. Eleanor read the page.

"What can the shards do?"

"Probably very little," Chloe said.

"That may make them useful." Thomas selected the largest remnant shard from the jar and used Study. The pressure behind his eyes gathered around the dark fragment. ┌────────────────────────────┐ Degraded Barghest Core Fragment Rank: E- State: Unstable, depleted Properties: Residual mana storage, weak predatory imprint Potential Uses: Low-output testing, lure, disposable mana source Warning: Output may fluctuate └────────────────────────────┘ He read the result aloud.

Marcus, who had returned from checking the workshop guard, stopped beside the table.

"Lure?" Thomas put the shard back in the jar.

"The creatures may respond to it."

"Then it stays contained." Chloe tapped the line about low-output testing.

"It could let me test housings without risking a full core. If it cracks, we lose a fragment instead of one of the only working power sources."

"Where?" Eleanor asked.

"The workshop. Door open. No red iron in the same test. Thomas monitors. Marcus decides whether the route is secure first." Eleanor considered the proposal.

"You can design the test. Nothing gets activated today." Chloe looked ready to argue until Priya passed behind her and glanced at both bandaged hands.

"Design only," Chloe said. Thomas recorded the restriction. Margaret had returned to the food calculation while they worked. She stood near the window now, rereading a page covered in crossed-out figures. Eleanor noticed her expression and went over. Thomas continued labelling the shards, though their conversation carried across the chapel.

"How bad?" Eleanor asked. Margaret handed her the page.

"Three days at portions people will complain about. Four if we cut further and nobody does hard work." Marcus joined them.

"We have hard work."

"I know."

"What about water?"

"The bottles last through tomorrow. The toilet tanks and pipes may buy us another day or two if the water is clean. We don't know whether the supply is still filling." Eleanor read the page again.

"There has to be stored food elsewhere in town."

"There probably is," Margaret said.

"There are also people, monsters, blocked roads, and whatever the System did outside the walls." Will had been helping Gareth sort timber near the entrance. He stopped with one end of a broken display beam in his hands.

"My farm has food." The room did not go silent, though several nearby conversations slowed. Margaret looked at him.

"Will."

"There's grain in the store. Tinned food in the pantry. Freezer meat if the power only failed yesterday, though that won't last. The well has a hand pump. Tools, fuel, seed, animal feed."

"How far?" Marcus asked.

"Outside town. North-west."

"Road access?"

"Normally twenty minutes by car. Longer from here because of the river and the turns." Margaret folded the ration page.

"We don't know what's happened there."

"No."

"The animals may be dead."

"They may." Will set the timber down. His bruised shoulder made the movement stiff.

"My son was there yesterday morning. If he made it back from the lower field, he'd have gone to the house. The farm has walls, stores, water, and enough space for people to sleep. Even if we don't move everyone, there's food we can bring here." Eleanor asked for the broader visitor information leaflet. Gareth found one in a drawer with a small local map printed across the back. Eleanor cleared a place on the ledge and spread it beside the castle plan. Will came over.

The local map had been designed for tourists driving between Richmond, the abbey, villages, and walking routes. Will put one finger on the castle, followed the road out of town, then stopped at a junction north-west of the river.

"Here." His finger moved beyond the edge of the printed detail.

"The farm is another mile and a half past this turn." Marcus leaned over the map.

"How many ways there?"

"Three by road. One footpath if the river crossing still holds." Thomas looked at the clean printed lines and remembered the blue fire in the castle, the mana moving through stone, and the System warning that old places were waking. Eleanor found a larger sheet in the visitor materials and placed it beneath the smaller map. Will bent over it, tracing the route again from the castle gate. His fingertip stopped where the road left Richmond.