Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 96
August 28, 2023
August 27, 2023
Chapter 10: The Potter (new cover!)
Whatdoes the god of fire demand of Brendan?
Theproblem isn’t his pottery skills. No, the problem lies with his backyard kiln.Every vessel Brendan fires in it ends up shattered. His fault? Oh no!
Acommanding voice tells him every attempt he makes will fail … unless he does asit asks. Brendan ropes in his mate Johnny, if only to tell him he’s completelybonkers. They end up in a place they thought never to visit again, a place ofnightmares from their childhood.
Ha,maybe there is a fire god. How does one deal with that?
CHAPTER 10
MORNING. Gear puddles around us. Rucksacks withfood, water, and medical stuff. Rope. Torches. Spare batteries. Phones are charged.Ha, looks to me as if we intend doing more than scouting around the entrance,but I say not a word, allowing Johnny to gather what he regards as essentials.He sent a message to his Janet, telling her he’s helping a mate out today, andis now all business. Most unlike Johnny.
While hemutters away, I go into my studio. Staring at my failures, I know this needsdoing. I need to get back to normal. I need to feel supple clay under myquesting fingers. I am a potter, not a penitent to some god with delusions. Right?Too right.
Feelingbetter, decision made, I rejoin Johnny. We’ll drive out to where the roadpeters out, and hike the rest of the way, a matter of half an hour at most. Nolong walk into twilight this time.
We’re on ourway within minutes, neither offering conversation. Soon enough, we abandon thecar, load up and start walking. The morning is fresh, still damp after the raintwo nights ago, and birdsong accompanies us. Weaving through the trees on atrack only animals now use, we come to the jumble of rocks, and there we stand,mouths agape.
Whateverbarrier the local authority put up twenty years ago is no longer in place. Thechains that, by all accounts, fenced the area, lie forgotten in the mud,rusting away, barely discernible. One sign remains on a listing and rottingwooden post, but the words are indecipherable. In fact, other than for thatsign, the place looks exactly like it did on the day Harriet went in, never tocome out with eyes able to see.
“No oneremembers,” Johnny grunts.
Harriet’sparents do, I want to say, but don’t. “We’ll make a stink about this whenwe go back,” I promise instead.
Nodding,Johnny moves forward. We then commence a dedicated search of the area. Otherthan deer tracks, we find little. No one has been here in a long time.
Around ten,sitting on a boulder with thermos coffee to hand, I look at my mate. “We’regoing in, aren’t we?”
He shrugs,sips his brew.
Yes, we are.We don’t wish to come here a second time. Do it now and be done with it. On theflipside, that means, if successful, I’ll have time enough to fashion a host ofplanters in the interim. Won’t make my deadline, but I’ll only be a week or solate. The tester will go in the oven when ready and if unbroken after, the largefiring can commence. Shaking my head at my mercenary thoughts – gotta eat,dude, relax – I again give attention to Johnny.
His eyes havenarrowed. “Look there. There, to the left. Do those rocks look pulverised toyou?”
They do. Itlooks as if a giant trod there as he entered. Fanciful? Maybe, but my heart suddenlythumps against my ribs.
THE POTTER* new cover not yet live online
August 26, 2023
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