“Reynolds, I chose you as my chief of staff because I think you’re competent. Not because I think you’re right.” Ferucci shouted.

“We’re almost out of food. If we don’t hunt further afield we’ll starve.” I replied, exhausted.

“If we travel too far from camp we’ll end up dead regardless. Our rationing will hold until we hear word from Rachel.”

Both of us looked knackered. Ferucci ‘s suit was rumpled; his tie was undone and his hair was mess. I hadn’t bothered finding a mirror in days. We were all on quarter rations and hunger was eating at our morale.

Suddenly Melissa burst in. “Sir; one of our sentries spotted a pegasus with a rider on top. It’s been circling the camp.”

“Great,” Tony said, “we’re being scouted. Reynolds, how’s your aim with a rifle.”

“They look friendly,” Melissa said. “They’re flying fairly low and aren’t making an effort to hide themselves.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” I said. “If they’re friendly shooting at them is a horrible idea. If they’re not we’re dead anyway. Let’s just wait and see what happens.”

“For once he’s talking sense. Melissa, Phillip, go make sure people clear out a space for that thing to land. I want to freshen up a bit before schlepping down the ladder.

Before we left I made sure to order our militia to stand by. Our rifles were out of ammo. But our drills had become more effective and we had driven off an attack by a group of trolls just a few days before. I was sure we could handle one guy on a flying horse. But it didn’t hurt to be careful.

I saw the pegasus touch down as I was leaving the plane. My wife was the horse person in the family. I couldn’t tell you the difference between a palomino and a gelding. The animal was pure white with a wingspan of maybe six meters. The rider was enveloped in dark green leather; with a longbow on his back and what looked like a sabre attached to a long pole tied to the saddle. I couldn’t figure out how the polearm was supposed to be used with the wing in the way but I’m no expert on mediaeval weaponry.

Our militia quickly surrounded the pair. The animal was looking ready to bolt when I shouted, “raise your spears and move back a bit. We don’t want a fight if we can avoid it.” Thankfully they listened to me. I kept my hands raised with my palms facing forward when I shouted “ave.” The rider responded with a shout I couldn’t understand. I decided to wait for orders before doing anything else.

It was two five minutes later when Ferucci came down the ladder. He was looking much neater in what looked like a clean suit with his hair neatly combed and a smile on his face. He held a thermos in one hand while he struggled down the ladder. When he reached the ground he shouted, “Oy. Get out of here. He’d have attacked by now if he was dangerous.”

I started to leave when he said, “Not you Reynolds.” When the militia left the rider climbed down from the saddle and grabbed a package from one of the saddle bags. Ferucci took a drink from the thermos before he grabbed the package from the rider. He then held the thermos out and after a moment the rider grabbed it. The bundle looked like something thin wrapped in wax paper to protect it from the elements.

Ferucci then shouted to the crowd, “find someone who knows how to care for a horse; I want to speak to the messenger inside.”

After the vet and another two passengers showed up and the rider was content the animal was in good hands we headed inside to the makeshift office in the small upper deck. Ferucci unwrapped the package. Inside was a note which he started to read out loud.

“To whomever it may concern”

“Hmm, the writer didn’t have much confidence in the outcome of the election.”

“The council of Dragon’s Cleft has agreed to give us shelter over the winter in exchange for twenty cellphones and assistance building a generator to recharge them. They will send pack goats…”

“Pack goats? Really?”

“with supplies and militia to help protect you on the journey. I will remain in the city to deal with any other issues that may come up. If you feel this agreement cannot be enacted please send a reply with the messenger and I will renegotiate.”

“Regards

Rachel Ferucci”

“Even my own wife…. Reynolds, get our engineers in here. And call a meeting for tomorrow. We’ll need to vote on this. Warn them we’ll be reducing rations further if they vote no. We can’t afford another fuckup. I need to figure out how to tell this guy to stay the night. I hope he doesn’t expect much food.”

At that point the rider had taken of her hood and revealed a tanned face, with almond shaped eyes and shoulder length black hair. She said with an impish smile, “I almost wish the council hadn’t provided me with a translation potion. This would have been so much more amusing.”

“Oy vey.” Ferucci put his head in his hands.

The three engineers we brought on were a young South African electrical engineer named Aisha Ibrahim, a German mechanical engineer named Kristian Weber, and a Scot named Peter Stewart who was a retired aeronautical engineer.

“We can make a generator but we can’t guarantee it’ll be useful for more than a few years. The phones’ batteries have finite lifespans no matter what.” Aisha said.

“The preservation spell is going to help with that,” the messenger, Ariadne, said.

“The spell might protect the phone from damage but the batteries … this is difficult to explain.” Aisha stuttered.

“When preservation is cast on food or fuel it doesn’t protect it from damage. Otherwise we couldn’t eat it. Instead it slows rot and decay. Though a wizard’s preservation might be different from the witches who charm the city’s food stores each season or the blessings the holdfasts request from the harvest gods every dawn and dusk.” Ariadne tried to explain.

“A spell that keeps away germs won’t sto…. Wait. You said fuel. Does it make fuel last longer?” Aisha asked.

“I think the charm witches cast can. I’m not sure about the blessings.” Ariadne looked around uncertainly.

“Fucking magic,” Peter said, “we can’t know for sure unless we can do experiments with the magic. For all we know a powerful enough spell can keep the things charged indefinitely without a generator.”

I then spoke up. “Simon is a physics student. We can have the wizard cast the spell on his phone and he can time how long it takes for the battery to decay.”

Kristien snorted. “It won’t be definitive proof. “

Aisha then added, “And it might only add on a few extra years of life.”

“In that case we can sweeten the pot with some other tech. If the council changes their mind about the deal we’re fucked. Let’s avoid talking about unlikely scenarios in front of their envoy.”

“I’m just the messenger,” Ariadne replied, “and don’t worry about me overhearing anything. Old Hektor has been observing you all through his scrying mirror since before I left. The alchemist is charging ridiculous rates for access to translation potions; but he’s probably listening in on us right now. “

”Ugh. I need a drink.” Ferucci said glumly.