The Weaver's Source

Chapter 82

The day went on slowly and become colder with every hour. As the white clouds that painted the sky turned grey, the air grew frigid and heavy with mist.

Nanat and her sisters ushered me through the narrow roads, guiding me to the well. The sight of it did shake the fear of the black clothed seller and his horrible gaze. The well was almost tower like; several feet tall with winding crumbling stone steps. At the top was a wooden crank covered with fading red paint and several buckets. I was surprised by the amount of people here. They scuttled up the wide steps, hauled up a bucket and scuttled back down.

"Water freezes during the winter but not here." Nanat said proudly as I gazed up at the well tower. 

"Below is a spring of water that never freezes. The town began here with this well although the spring is drying up." Mary added as Lorry swung their hands.

"It is?"

Olive nodded. "There are many canals beneath the city and were once filled with the spring's water. Now only a third of it is full. It's drying up."

"Many worry about it. Once the spring dies, the city may die with it." Mary said  solemnly.

I hoped that didn't happen. The city, while ugly and stank, was filled to the brim with life. It would be sad to see such a vast place empty and dead.

We headed back home after that, with Nanat and Lorry running ahead, laughing and cackling madly as the darted between strangers' legs and stray goats and pigs. They did make me smile, especially when they challenged themselves to change the colour of my eyes, but I found a frown of worry constantly tugging at my mouth. I couldn't get that man out of my head and I couldn't keep thinking of my parents. A swell of terror and panic kept choking me, making me want to run and hide, but a desire to keep the girls safe kept me focused and not being swallowed up by the little girl from back then.

By the time we reached the lone smithy, the sun was crawling towards dusk and the street lanterns were being lit with tiny yellow flames. As we reached the house, the door swung open and their mother stood outside, hollering to us sharply.

"Come in, before the snows burst!" She called impatiently.

It was only then that I realised tiny flecks of white was drifting about the air. I tilted my head and saw the clouds were dark not because of the lack of light but by the heavy load they held. A snow storm was going to break.

I squeaked when Mary and Olive gave a happy cry and launched into a run, dragging me between them. Lorry and Nanat were quickly over taken, making them both give out disappointed cries and demands to slow down. Lynda stepped aside, letting the twins pull me inside, as she ushered in her youngsters with sharp calls.

I swiftly removed my cloak, finding the long kitchen stifling compared to the chill outside, and tried to ignore the churning of hunger in my stomach. The smell of bread and stew filled my nose, making my hunger worse and increasingly noticeable. The food bubbled away above the fire with Jen stirring it slowly, not turning once to welcome anyone.

"Wash up and get ready for dinner." Lynda instructed as she pulled Lorry's cloak off. "It's just about done."

"Has Rhye been helping?" Olive asked with an amused tone.

It was only then I saw the broad girl laying out the table at the other end, her thick black hair barely tied back. Rhye pulled a face.

"With you lot out, mother and Jen needed it. Beside, dad's leg is aching a bit today. He's needed to rest it." She responded defensively.

Olive and Mary snickered, leaning in together to gag at the thought of eating Rhye's cooking, while Lorry's eyes shone.

"Where's daddy?"