The Almanac by E L Stricker

Author:E L Stricker [Stricker, E L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734365405
Publisher: E.L. Stricker
Published: 2019-12-04T22:00:00+00:00

“YOU AREN'T THE only one who has paper,” Ban said with a small smile.

“What do you mean?” Illya asked, reluctant to come out of his gloom. He couldn't help being curious though. If anyone in the village might be able to figure out a solution that would work, it was Ban.

“Got a few things, drawings all folded up. My granddad gave 'em to me,” Ban said. “There's one that might help.”

Illya sat up straighter. The song had finished, and nearby Sabelle had dropped Conna's hands. She was retreating to the edge of the circle, where Martha and Josie were sitting. Illya felt a little bit better.

“Show me,” he said.

***

Ban's hut was full of broken parts and pieces. There was scrap metal for his blacksmithing and many other salvaged tools and Olders' things. Illya whistled; there was even more here than he had collected in the lean-to behind his mother’s hut. She had always affectionately called it his magpie nest because he had hardly ever gone out to explore the nearby ruins without coming back with something for it.

Firelight glinted off the piles of metal stashed in every corner and on the shelves, turning the hut into a jungle of twisted shadows. If Impiri had ever been in this place, Illya would have gotten knocked down to a much lower spot on her priority list.

“Wife thinks I'm crazy hanging on to all this stuff,” Ban said in response to Illya's raised eyebrows. “She says she still likes me fine though.”

Ban grinned and led him to the table, where there were several pieces of paper spread out. Illya picked up the one on top, fingering the now-familiar smoothness with his fingertips. It was browned and creased through the middle.

“Your granddad saved these all this time?” he asked.

“Yep, been stowed away in there,” Ban said, pointing to a case leaning against the table made of what looked like leather. The clasp was broken, and Illya could see divided fabric slots inside. It had letters stitched into the top. REB

The paper was a drawing. The markings on it were faint, and some of them had worn away completely, but Illya could still see the essence of what it was.

A wheel. It was tall with cups around its edge. A crude sketch of a man stood beside it, showing that it was twice his height. It sat partially submerged in a pond, with arrows indicating that it would rotate. The cups on the ascending half were full of water. They would hit a bar and overturn into a trough at the top. Faint letters across the bottom of the drawing said, “Old-Fashioned Noria Wheel.”

“A water wheel,” Illya whispered to himself, amazed at the simplicity of it.

“Yeah,” Ban said. “We would still have to figure a way to get the water from the river to the field, but at least this gets it up out of the river,” he said.

Illya looked at Ban, his eyes wide.

“I know how to do that,” he said.

“You do? How?” Ban asked

“Impiri!” Illya exclaimed, getting excited.

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