Blood and Clay Read Free Page A

food bought either.
There were always more drinks to be bought, more wax, more herbs.

 
    I
set off home with a sigh. As always I made to take a wide berth around the
haunted clearing but I smelt smoke. I looked around the woods to try and figure
out where it was coming from and tried to follow it. Walking to the left or
right made the smell of smoke disappear slightly so I carried on true in my
course and the smell grew stronger until it was strong enough to make my eyes
tingle. Before long I was almost at the haunted clearing and there was no doubt
that the smoke was coming from there. I saw flickers of movement, not unusual
for the forest which teamed with wildlife, but unheard of for this part of the
forest. Not even creatures or bugs went near the clearing. I reached the edge
of the clearing and peered through the last few trees, not wanting to get too
close. In fact I wanted to run but the utter strangeness of seeing something
happening here made me stay and watch.

 
    I
was close enough now to see that the smoke came from a small fire which
crackling and smouldering slowly. I finally saw what the movements were as two
figures came into view. I held my breath, fearing that even one frosty puff of
breath in the cold air would be seen. I stayed hidden behind a tree torn about
what to do. The figures wouldn ’ t be able to see me back here but it still felt unsafe,
dangerous even. Yet I wanted to watch and in the end curiosity got the better
of me. Slowly I leaned out from behind the tree as I held my breath.

 
    In
the clearing there seemed to be no warmth other than the glow coming from the
small fire and no colour other than the brown, grass. Then I did see colour. A
slab of stone lay in the middle of the clearing on top of a big chunk of stone,
like a natural table that had erupted out of the earth to be used for whatever
this very purpose. To begin with I couldn ’ t see the slab fully or what was on
it. The figures danced a weaving, twisting dance with their backs to me. The
hoods of their heavy brown capes obscured their heads and faces. When they
finally moved I saw what they had been concealing and a jolt of shock ran
through me and made me want to throw up.   On the slab was a large, slick pool of blood; a slash of glistening, dark
red against the background of natural muted shades. My heart raced and I caught
a gasp before it escaped my lips like a traitor anxious to give away my
location. I clamped my hand to my mouth and pressed my back against the tree,
desperate not to move and get the attention of the figures.

 
    My
heart drummed a desperate beat which echoed in my ears. I hoped that the
figures could not hear it as clearly as I could. I knew who they were and I
knew they would be angry to find me hiding and spying on them. They were
witches for sure and the worst witches in the area at that. The ones I wanted
to run into the least despite them being family.

Chapter Three

 
    After
what seemed like an eternity I finally got up the nerve to look again. I couldn ’ t see who or what the blood had come
from. I was thankful for that. Mam and Gran bent over the slab and worked small
piles of river clay into it. Over and over again they kneaded the clay until
the grey lumps became marbled with scarlet and eventually turned a muddy brown.

 
    I
ducked behind the tree again but I was filled with a desperate urge to keep
looking and my stomach squirmed with nerves as if a nest of earwigs were
scrambling around in my gut. Mam and Gran began to chant and hiss in low
spiteful voices. They worked with the piles of clay until they became small,
images of people; one a man and the other a woman. Tiny, thin plumes of smoke
rose into the air as one of they began to melt candle wax. Gran held the candle
over a small fire then letting the wax drip to form two small pools on the
stone slab. Still chanting and hissing and screeching an inhuman song, Mam and
Gran worked small cuttings of something into the wax