Aldric Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 11

The skiff moved through the dark water while Aldric turned the empty jar in his hands. Clay. Thin-walled. The seer's blackened fingertip came back to him. If the lake water ate through skin, it would eat through this jar before the wolf's tail dried. He needed a vessel that would hold the poison without leaking, without cracking, without touching him. He had none. The caterpillar puffed smoke and steered on. The skiff nosed against a bank where lantern light spilled from a shed above the water. A kiln vented heat into the night. The red-haired woman from the cottage stood at a wheel inside, hands wet, and did not look surprised to see him twice in one evening. A blond man in a pale coat crouched by the kiln door, feeding it wood. A dragonfly with rainbow wings rested on his shoulder. "You came back early," she said. "Or you never left." "I need a jar that won't break from what I'm carrying." Aldric held up the clay pot. "The lake water is poisoned. This won't hold it." She set down her tool. "No. It won't." The blond man stood. He wiped ash on his trousers and looked at the jar, then at Aldric. "Melody Lake?" "Yes." "Then you want double-fired stoneware, glazed inside with the ash slip." He said it plainly, then shrugged. "My mentor made me learn pottery. Long story." The woman was already at her shelf. She pulled down a squat gray jar with a heavy stopper. "Made this last month. Held quicksilver for a week without weeping." "Fire it again," the prince said. "Now. Hotter. He needs it to hold something worse than quicksilver." She looked at him. He met her eyes and did not move. She nodded once and carried the jar to the kiln. The prince fed the fire while she worked the bellows. The dragonfly lifted off his shoulder and circled the shed, then landed on the jar's stopper and stayed there. "Zyl likes it," the prince said. "Zyl doesn't like much." Aldric watched the jar glow red, then white, then red again as it cooled on the rack. The wolf pressed against his knee, then eased off. No danger here. The woman wrapped the jar in wet cloth and handed it over. It was warm through the wrap. Heavier than his old one. "Stopper's beeswax under cork. Don't open it once it's full. Don't set it near your skin." "What do I owe you." "Come back and tell me it worked." She was already turning away. The prince walked him to the skiff. At the water he said, "The lake won't let you dip a jar. It has to be given. Find the flute shrine on the north shore. Play what's carved on the door." "I don't play." "Then find someone who does." He stepped back. "Go." The caterpillar tipped its cap. The current took them again. Aldric held the warm jar against his chest and stared north, where the lake waited and he still could not draw from it alone.