Dwelling in the Wishing Well
Chapter One Preview
For those of you interested in Dwelling in the Wishing Well, but unsure what to expect, here is a preview with the first chapter!
If you’d like to keep up to date with my latest releases, have chapter previews sent straight to your inbox, and learn more about the folklore that inspires my work then make sure you subscribe to my newsletter!
Chapter 1
The air in the town of Ashenwell always felt heavier on the eve of The Tithing. As the sun began to hide away, so did the townspeople. Conversations grew hushed, laughter was scarce, and even the wind seemed to dwindle and die, so that everything fell still. Watchful... As the last rays of sun bled across the rooftops, families gathered around meagre dinners, avoiding each other’s eyes, knowing that tomorrow morning, one of their own might be lost.
The light from the forge still burned strong. Brighter and warmer than the sun as it disappeared below the horizon. A lone figure lingered in the doorway as the rhythmic scrape of metal rang out. The man twisted his hat nervously in his hands.
“Won’t change a thing,” he muttered, voice low. “I can only go so fast, even with a sharp blade.”
Eryx raised his head from his work to give the man a warning look. “I don’t mind you voicing your unease Thomas, but you should come inside if you don’t want it going beyond these four walls.”
Thomas looked over his shoulder with concern before stepping further into the forge. “I appreciate you working late for me Eryx. My working days have grown longer just trying to maintain our usual harvest.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. “It’s starting to feel too much…I…I don’t know if I can carry on like this. I’m so tired.”
Eryx stood, discarding the sharpening stone to place a firm hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Hey, listen to me. You can get through this. We’ll find you another able young farmhand from this town or the next one over. Remember you’ve got a wonderful wife who is happy to be at your side, at least for a few more years.”
The teasing words seemed to momentarily lessen Thomas’ struggles, causing a smile to spread across his face. He pushed Eryx’s hand away shaking his head in mock aspiration. “You’re right, I have been lucky with Gemima. She has put up with a lot from me.”
Handing the scythe back to Thomas, Eryx dusted himself down. “Why don’t you and Gemima join us for dinner? Both of you can put your feet up.”
“Only if Izara is okay with that,” Thomas responded. “I wouldn’t want to put more work on her.”
Eryx stepped towards the closed door at the back of the forge. “Yeah, it’ll be fine, I’m sure.” He pulled back the door which creaked loudly. Sticking his head through, he called out into the darkness. “Izara!”
“Yeah?!” a muffled voice responded.
“Would we be able to host two more for dinner?”
There was a pause as footsteps could be heard approaching. The light of the forge illuminated a curious face and twinkling green eyes.
“Well that depends on who it is.”
Thomas leaned round and gave a small wave. “Hey Izara. Got space for Gemima and I?”
Izara scrunched up her nose in exaggerated disgust. “Oh gods no.” She smiled, flinging her arms open and striding towards Thomas. “Of course you two can join us.” She squeezed him tightly in an embrace, “You’re always welcome.”
Thomas’ whole demeanour seemed to relax. “Thank you, I know Gemima will appreciate someone else preparing dinner for once. Especially tonight.”
Eryx shooed him out. “You better go home and let her know then. Get yourself freshened up and it’ll be ready by the time you’re back.”
The blacksmith and his beloved stood in the doorway for a moment, arms around each other, watching Thomas go; the darkness of the evening drew in around them. Izara stood on her toes to plant a kiss on Eryx’s cheek.
“Right, I better go check on this food then and get the table laid for our guests.”
Eryx wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her into his chest. “Thank you, my love.” He let her go with a quick kiss to the forehead.
Izara called out to him as she went. “Just make sure you clean up before you come in. Try and leave as much of the grime outside as possible please.”
Eryx smiled and grabbed a cloth hanging on the side. “Yes ma’am!” he responded obediently as he began to wipe his hands. He threw the now filthy scrap of fabric onto the workbench and stepped outside to close up the forge for the night. The heat of the flames still lingered in the stagnant night air, but it began to curl and fade into smoke as Eryx shut the heavy doors.
Across the street, a shadow shifted, causing the blacksmith’s head to jerk up towards the movement instinctually. He gave a polite smile and a wave when the silhouette of Old Elijah lingering on his porch came into view. The grey man nodded stiffly in response, pretending to turn his attention back to adjusting a lantern that had long since burned out, but his sharp cold eyes continued to linger in Eryx’s direction.
Eryx exhaled slowly through his nose. He ignored the wave of frustration that fluttered in his chest. Elijah was fond of keeping tabs on the those living in his vicinity, and lately, it seemed like his eyes were drawn to Eryx the most. He couldn’t say if it was curiosity or something more insidious, but he knew better than to ignore it. Nevertheless, he always met Elijah’s gaze with polite acknowledgment.
Shaking off the unease that had crept up his back, he made his way inside, where the warmth of the forge was replaced by the inviting scent of roasted root vegetables and fresh bread. He opened the door to find Izara gathering bowls, placing them next to the steaming pot, ready to serve.
She glanced up at him and smiled. “It’ll be nice to have some company tonight to distract us from The Tithing.”
Eryx began filling his mug, pursing his lips together. “Yeah, I’m worried about Thomas. It seems like he needs a break from it.”
Izara placed three more mugs next to his and cast a gentle gaze over him. “You’re a good friend, and I think he really values that you lend him an ear.”
The two of them glanced round as they heard a gentle knock at the door followed by a softly spoken “Hello.” Izara disappeared momentarily and almost immediately the loud exclamation of cheerful voices rang through into the kitchen. Eryx stepped out to greet them, mugs in hand.
“Ah, our gracious host,” Thomas teased, accepting a mug from Eryx and slapping him on the back in thanks. “I was beginning to think Izara did all the work around here.”
Eryx smirked, giving Izara a playful nudge as she passed him to head back into the kitchen. “I can be helpful now and then.”
They all settled into the modest dining area, offering their thanks and praise to Izara as they tucked into the bowls of steaming food. It wasn’t long before Thomas was scraping at the bottom of the dish and leaning back in satisfaction.
“Mm, thank you again Izara. I would say it’s the best I’ve had but then I would be a terrible husband.”
Eryx eyes glinted mischievously. “You would have to be a good husband first.”
Gemima gasped in mock offense. “I’ll have you know, Thomas is the best husband I could ask for. He just…likes to hear himself complain.” She cast a pointed look at her husband.
“And for good reason,” countered Thomas, setting his mug down with a little too much force. “You’d think the council would have found a solution to The Tithing by this point, instead of gutting the town from the inside out. But no – fewer hands, less trade, and more starving mouths. But it’s ‘for the good of Ashenwell.’ Always the same damn excuse.”
Gemima tensed, her hands gripping the cutlery even tighter. “Thomas, please.”
“It’s okay Gemima. Let him rant. Best he gets it all out here than back at home.” Eryx leaned back in his chair. “Besides, he’s not wrong.” Izara shot him a warning look, but Thomas took the encouragement eagerly.
“The council sits in their grand hall, their bellies full, their water clean, while the rest of us scrape by,” Thomas continued, shaking his head. “Any problem arises, and they just chuck it down the well to keep the beast at bay. We’re just names in a damned bowl to them.”
Gemima cleared her throat, desperately trying to shift the conversation. “Izara, tell me, have you two set a date for the ceremony?”
Izara hesitated before offering a small smile. She lay a gentle hand on Eryx’s arm. “We’re thinking after the next harvest. Hopefully once spirits are lifted again and, gods wishing, our names aren’t pulled.”
Thomas scoffed. “All our names will be pulled eventually. You’re better off tying the knot sooner than later because things won’t calm down.” He looked up to see Gemima’s eyes glaring at him. “It won’t! Not unless someone does something about it.”
Eryx glanced toward the window, where the shadowed outline of Old Elijah’s home loomed across the way. He couldn’t tell if the old man was still watching, but he wouldn’t put it past him.
When dinner ended, Thomas and Gemima said their goodbyes merrily despite the weight the evening held. Before making his way down the small steps from their door, Thomas lingered for a moment longer, gripping Eryx’s arm. His voice dropped to a low murmur.
“Something’s got to give, my friend. Sooner or later, we’ll have to decide if we’re willing to keep living like this. Your voice is respected, remember that.”
Eryx stiffened, aware of the gravity in those words. He nodded and patted Thomas on the shoulder. The couple waved to their hosts as they headed home.
“Goodnight!” called Gemima.
“And good luck for tomorrow!” added Thomas. “May the well forget your name!”
The jovial atmosphere seemed to vanish from the night as his words brought them back to the looming reality. Eryx bristled, the hairs on his arm where Thomas had grasped it prickling as the words echoed in his head. It was the kind of talk that got a man noticed. The kind that made names rise instead of sink.
Across the street, a lantern flickered back into life.
I hope you enjoyed this extract of Dwelling in the Wishing Well! If you’re desperate to read more you can get your copy of the book here!