Meredith Mansfield, Author

Here’s another deleted scene from The Shaman’s Curse:

Vatar walked briskly through the wet, empty streets of Caere on his way to the guild hall, smiling slightly. Apparently the Caerean’s thought they’d melt in a little bit of rain. Although, to be fair, this was more than just a little rain and from the look of the clouds, he expected to hear the boom of thunder at any moment. Still, the Dardani were accustomed to ride in all weathers short of a blizzard. Or when the snow was deeper than their horses’ hocks.

Now that he was officially Uncle Lanark’s apprentice, he spent one day in seven at the guild hall with the other apprentices his age, learning the things Uncle Lanark couldn’t teach him. Like the smelting of iron and how to turn iron into steel during the smelting. The guild hall did that for all the smiths in Caere.

How do they keep the smelting fires hot enough during weather like this? He smiled. Presumably, he would find out today. He couldn’t think of much else they’d be able to do in this weather. Surely not work at the forges. Vatar enjoyed his lessons at the guild hall. In addition to all the new things he learned, he got a chance to make a few friends among the other apprentices, like Fowin.

When he reached the Smiths’ Guild, Vatar was directed not toward the smelter, but indoors to the meeting hall. Three masters presided over the room.

“There are blades in need of sharpening in the barrels, lad. Grab one and a whetstone and get to work,” one of them said.

At almost the same time, the big bell on the top of the hall rang.

“Everyone come over to the windows,” the master gestured toward the wall of windows across from the mural Arcas had shown Vatar on his first day in Caere. “Look up there.” He pointed to the ornate weathervane above the gate.

Vatar did as he was told and drew in a sharp breath. The weathervane was enveloped in a dancing violet flame. He’d seen something similar, once, on the plains, only around the bare branches of a dead tree.

“What is that?” another apprentice asked.

“We call it Tabeus’s Fire. By itself it’s harmless, but it is a warning of an approaching thunderstorm. When you see it, close your forge and get out as quickly as you can. You do not ever want to be caught in your smithy during a thunderstorm.” As if to accentuate the master’s warning, a flash of lightning lit the sky beyond the guildhall.

“Just like not sheltering under the tallest trees during a thunderstorm,” Vatar said.

The master nodded. “That, too. But also, lightning is attracted to iron. And there’s a lot of iron in a smithy.”

As if to demonstrate the master’s point, the next bolt of lightning struck the weathervane. The top portion of the vane flew off and landed with a clatter on the cobblestones of the courtyard.

Vatar swallowed. “I guess so.”

A version of this scene had been in this story from the first draft. But there’s a problem with it. The only reason for this scene is to introduce the idea of Tabeus’s Fire (more commonly known in our world as St. Elmo’s Fire), which will have an important role later in the story. That’s not enough reason for it to stay. I found subtler (and shorter) ways to give the same information.

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