Chapter 6
My voice wasn't loud, but every word struck the crowd like a hammer.
The people's eyes shifted from doubt to burning rage.
They glared at Tom in unison.
Tom was struck dumb, his face flushing.
The logs in his hands suddenly felt as heavy as lead.
"Y-You're talking nonsense," he shouted, flustered and furious.
He threw the wood to the ground with a crash. "I sell good wood. You just don't know how to use it."
Felix stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane. "Tom, that is enough."
His voice was aged but carried immense authority. "Cedarville doesn't welcome you. Please leave."
"Leave?" Tom laughed as if he'd heard the greatest joke of the century. "You old fool, who do you think you are? I'm going to say this right now."
He stabbed a finger at the foundation pit, his eyes full of threat. "Anyone who helps this outsider build this monstrosity is making an enemy of me.
"Not another log from me will ever come your way. It won't just be wood, either. No grain. No medicine. My brother works for the transport company in the county.
"I can make sure you don't survive this winter!"
That was a threat, plain and simple.
The crowd fell silent.
Worry etched itself onto every face.
Cedarville was too remote; almost all supplies had to come in through merchants like Tom.
Offending him would be disastrous.
Tom relished the effect.
He looked at me with a triumphant sneer, his eyes saying, "You can't beat me, punk."
I looked at him and suddenly smiled, "Do you honestly think we still need to buy your wood?"
My smile made him uneasy.
I continued calmly, "And as for grain and medicine? I trust Northland is a country of laws. If a town's supply lines are maliciously cut off, I don't think the government would just turn a blind eye.
"When they investigate, I imagine it won't just be you in trouble, but your brother at the transport company as well. Don't you agree?"
Tom's face paled instantly.
He hadn't expected this reserved outsider to be so clear-headed and quick with words.
He really didn't expect me to nail his weak spot with just one line.
A two-bit speculator, he didn't have the guts to go against the government.
"Y-You're bluffing!" he yelled, his voice shrinking with bravado.
"Am I? Try me." I met his gaze, refusing to yield.
We locked eyes for several tense seconds, neither of us willing to blink.
In the end, he broke first.
Tom shot a look of pure venom at the townsfolk, then at the massive foundation pit. "Fine, fine, you've got guts. Just you wait!"
He scrambled into his pickup truck, revved the engine with an angry roar, and spun the vehicle around, speeding off into the night.
The car vanished into the dark.
Silence returned to the yard, but it felt like a heavy stone had settled on everyone's heart.
Mark looked at me worriedly. "Michael, he won't let this go."
I nodded. "I know."
I looked up at the sky.
It was pitch black, starless, and the wind was beginning to carry stinging pellets of ice.
The wind started to bring in cold, icy bits—like the first signs of snow.
I said, "Snow is coming. We are running out of time. Everyone, go home and get some rest. At first light, we work."
My voice was quiet, yet it held a steadying power.
The townspeople dispersed in silence.
The crisis had been averted for now, but everyone knew the truth: Tom would be back for revenge.
Our only weapon against him was to finish the kiln before he returned.
There was no turning back now.