Maisie McLeod's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Maisie walked down the old path that led to the village square. The morning sun made the frost sparkle on the grass. She needed to find the market stalls where travelers sold their goods. Her candles were good now, but Granny's journal mentioned special oils from far away. Oils that made the flame burn brighter and steadier. The square bustled with people carrying baskets and calling out prices. A woman with gray braids stood beside wooden crates filled with small glass bottles. Maisie stepped closer and picked one up. The label read lavender oil. Another said rosemary. These were the oils Granny used years ago. Maisie bought three bottles and tucked them in her bag. Tonight she would add two drops to her melted wax. The candles would smell like the old traditions. Granny would remember her own first Imbolc candles. Maisie smiled and headed home. The next morning, Maisie walked toward the stone roundhouse at the edge of the village. Thick walls held up a thatched roof covered in fresh snow. Smoke rose from the central hearth inside. Other crafters gathered there to share their skills and show what they'd made. Maisie pushed open the wooden door. Warm air rushed out to meet her. Three women sat near the fire, dipping wicks into clay pots of wax. An older man carved wooden molds at a bench. Maisie watched how they worked. One woman twisted her wick between dips to keep it straight. Another let the wax cool longer before the next layer. Maisie asked about their methods. They showed her their tools and explained their timing. She took notes in her mind. These techniques would make her candles stronger. Before she left the village, Maisie stopped at the stone marker near the center. A fire ring sat in the middle, surrounded by low benches. The base showed names carved in Gaelic script. Master candlemakers who had made perfect Imbolc flames. Granny's name was there, etched deep into the stone. Maisie traced the letters with her finger. The cold stone felt solid under her touch. Someday her name might join the others. She had the oils now. She had learned new ways to dip and shape. Granny would see her work soon. Maisie wrapped her shawl tight and walked back toward home.