Emerald House Rising by Peg Kerr

Author:Peg Kerr [Kerr, Peg]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2020-10-21T04:00:00+00:00

“So, this is the right temperature, you think?” Master Rolly said. He had the crucible out of the furnace and was expertly swiveling it with the tongs to watch the viscosity of the molten gold against the sides of the vessel.

“Oh, yes,” Jena said eagerly. Master Rolly looked at her sharply, but she couldn’t help it, aroused as she was by the eager yearning of the gold. It feels so ready. I sensed it partly when I put the mold in the furnace. That was one possibility, waiting for fulfillment, but this gold holds so many! Why, it could be molded into a thousand different patterns. Well, she had the form prepared that would shape it now.

“We’ll see if you’re right,” Master Rolly said with a small half smile.

“I need an apron,” Jena said, trying to regain her composure.

“We all do. And eyeshields and gloves.”

“Kipp, run and get them,” Jena commanded, remembering belatedly that she was in charge. “And please ask Baldesar to come outside; I would like his help for the cast.”

Baldesar joined them, and Kipp brought out the protective leather gear and the wooden disks cut with narrow slits to shield their eyes. After they had garbed themselves, Jena said, “Baldesar, take those tongs and get the flask from the furnace—Kipp, open the door for him. Master Rolly, if you would be so kind as to bring the crucible?”

She led the small procession back inside to the centrifuge and quickly wound the casting arm into the cocked position. “Slip the mold in first, Baldesar. Quickly, now, but be careful.” The journeyman clamped the flask into position and then Master Rolly stepped forward, placing the crucible into the crucible shoe. He pushed the pouring lip up flush to the funnel formed in the plaster and closed the second clamp.

“Are they both secure?”

“They are. Let fly.”

“All right, then.” Jena had to fight to keep her voice calm. “Everyone step back.” She punched the release knob.

With a thunk, the spring released and the arm began spinning in a rush, too rapidly to allow them to see the gold flying from the crucible into the mold. But Jena could feel the jubilant surge of metal into the crevices left in the plaster, rushing from formlessness into embodiment, into this-is-what-is-meant-to-be!

Gradually the arm slowed. The other watchers, rapt as she, sighed and stirred. “You had it well balanced,” Master Rolly commented, removing his eye shields. “Not a single wobble.”

Jena removed her shields, too, and watched, blinking, as the centrifuge came to a halt. “Kipp, I need some water from the cistern.”

By the time Kipp returned, slopping water all over his feet from the bucket he lugged, the flask had had several minutes to cool. With the tongs, Jena unseated it from the clamps on the centrifuge arm and then plunged it into the water, which boiled with the force of the violent disintegration of the plaster. A dull bronze color gleamed up at her through plaster crumbs. She reached in with the small tongs

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