Honey Skin and finer Poisons
While the others dressed for the cold and packed their bags for the journey, Griff packed for the city. Her shoes were white, purple and pink flowers sewn into the sides. She wore the same, favourite white coat of hers, grey pants and a black bodice of Elaine’s. A gold and silver circlet, thin and glinting at every glance of light wound their way around her neck.
“Is there anywhere I can take you, family, friends…?” She asked her quiet charge. He sat on the stool by the kitchen, sipping a pomegranate tea Elaine had brewed for their breakfast. Beau ran a thumb around the lip of the little green cup. “Not really,” He shrugged. Griff sighed. “It’s ok. We’ll stay at the school complex where I can protect all three of you. When we get the chance, I’ll help you find a place to stay,” she promised, swinging her duffel bag onto her shoulder.
Rook had leant Beau a change of clothes, clothes he seemed quite comfortable with. A white, long-sleeved shirt, black boots and pair of pants. He seemed grateful for a clean set of clothes and the bath he’d taken that morning. Griff felt a little bad, considering their bathroom was more forest than bathroom. Black tiles, a giant bath, flowers and vines growing on every wall and through every crack. But the water was warm, the ceramic tub felt as silk felt against the skin. Safe, warm and soft. It was how the entire Church felt to the three Knights. A home, a shield, a cradle. And now, they were to leave it behind so that they might become a shield for another. Rook and Elaine would be the sword to stop whatever creature hunted Kyra and Saul, while Griff formed their shield. And for Beau, too.
They took Saul’s car, while Rook drove the Church’s Chevy. Wishing each other luck, they set off on their paths. Kyra and Saul remained silent. But they did as they were told. They drank the tea they were given, spoke when spoken to and followed every order Griff gave them. It wasn’t always so. Some people, when they came to the Church felt as they knew better. Their fear, their paranoia pushed them around and in turn, made them push the three Knights around. But these two were different. It was another thing to keep in the back of her head. Beau, seeming more comfortable sat on the front seat. Arms folded behind his head, he napped through most of the drive. Kyra did the same, slumped against Saul’s shoulder. He seemed to hardly notice, fixated on staring out the window. Abandoned farmhouses dotted the outside of the city, the occasional house home to an old couple. Only one of them was actually home to a family. It was a house half-way between the city and the Church, just by the dirt road. A mother lived there with her two children and her sister’s three boys. She was a kind, homely woman that made the Knights honey cakes, sugar-fruits, jars upon jars of honey and sacks of apples whenever they visited. But Nora was a stressed mother, the weight of six lives on her shoulders.
“Why’re we stopping?” Beau mumbled, half-asleep.
“Just checking in on a friend,” Griff explained, unbuckling her seatbelt. “You two can stay in here. Scream real loud if something looks like it’s intent on killing,” She said to the two teenagers half-asleep in the back.
The farm-house was a two-story high, white house that had stood there for longer than living memory. The foundations, that was. The house itself had been build and torn down time and time again. But the heart of the place had always remained. A soft kiss. The softest kiss of summer, forever pressed into the brick, soil and rock. Griff supposed that was why she always volunteered to deliver their gifts. Charms of silk and flowers woven by Griff herself, boxes of tea from Elaine and the many pages of illustrations from Rook for the kids to flick through each night. Beau followed, seeming curious and wanting to stretch his legs. The front door was open, as per usual, but it was oddly quiet. By now, she usually would’ve been met with two to three kids competing for a hug.
“Hello?” Griff called out, looking down the hallway. The living room was empty, same as the study and the kitchen. Her reply came from the backyard. A child’s scream and a mother’s wail. Griff charged forward, without a hint of hesitation. Outside, in the patches of grass and an apple tree that constituted a backyard, Griff stood witness to Nora stabbing a beast with a pitch-fork, while Danny lay squirming in pain. The beast now pinned to the ground was that of an Adderjack, a giant wasp-like creature that was both wasp and bee. Creatures that Nora had befriended, once, at least until that particular, young Adderjack had stung Danny, the barb now stabbed through his left leg.
“Beau!” Griff barked, picking the boy up from the shoulders. Beau stood in confusion for a moment, before his wits returned and he picked up Danny’s legs, following Griff as they carried the boy back into the house to the kitchen. The barb itself was around the length of Griff’s arm, stabbed right through and out the muscle of the boy’s thigh having missed the bone.
“Kids!” She called, knowing they’d be hiding on the staircase. Danny thrashed, poison from the barb spreading the faster he moved. “Hold his legs so he moves as little as possible,” Griff ordered, holding Danny’s shoulders. Small footsteps sounded in the hallway, scurrying to her call. Nate, the oldest of Nora’s brood peaked out into the kitchen.
“Nate, Danny’s been stung. I need you help here to hold him down and keep him still while I remove the barb and the poison. Send the others to go help Nora,” Griff ordered, motioning to the backyard. Nate, despite the small shake in his step did as he was told. He was small and thin for his age, but smart and resolute enough to follow her commands without flinching away from the writhing mess of his brother.
With a kitchen knife, Griff cut away the material of his pant leg with a deft hand, still hand. With the material away she could clearly see the barb itself, and the veins of poison spider-webbing out from the point of entry. Ok…ok…shit. I need to get the barb out, stop the bleeding…stop the poison and get it out. Using tea towels tossed to her by Nate, Griff tied them tight on either side of the wound in an attempt to slow the advance of the poison. But it wouldn’t be enough, as it couldn’t slow the poor boys heart from thumping as he yowled in pain. So Griff took his face into her hands and angled his tear-stained face to meet her yellow eyes. When his soft blue eyes met hers, he locked onto her. An island of concentration and clairvoyance in the sea of pain.
“Danny. Danny I know it hurts. But you have to concentrate on me for a moment,” She pleaded. Leading by example, Griff took in a deep breath and he did the same. Three times over, until his complete and utter concentration was on her. She could feel the stare from Beau. She knew there were beads of sweat trailing down his temples from his harsh intakes of breath. He watched every move she made, every word she spoke to the boy. He watched as Griff took the woven charm from the necklace around her neck and held it right in Danny’s line of sight. As even Nate stared, the three of them transfixed with the strange ritual, but Griff blocked them all out. As Danny watched the charm, his heart finally slowed, he listened as Griff began to hum the only lullaby she’d ever known.
Don’t you cry now, my dear
Let the moon wash over you, my dear
Follow the path of stars back to me, no matter what you hear
The boon of your worth is beyond the suns touch
So please
Don’t you cry now, my dear
It was a simple spell. The charm, to catch the sight of the minds’ eye. The lullaby, to calm and focus the soul. But the most important part, a memory. It was a simple, one, a sweet one that Griff gave. Just off in the fields, beneath the oak tree Griff would sit amongst the roots in its shade. While Nora went into town, Rook would read to the kids, Elaine would braid their hair and Griff would teach them to become fierce, stick-wielding warriors. So, beneath the tree on this particular memory, the kids played about in some sort of pretend-war. Griff, meanwhile, wove crowns and bracelets out of the yellow stalks of grass. It was Danny who won the first crown, having led his side of the ‘war,’ to victory.
It’d been sweet.
Danny’s body shook as Griff pried the barb out. The poison was acidic, cauterizing the wound. He wouldn’t bleed out, but he’d lose the leg if she couldn’t eradicate the poison already present in the flesh.
The kids had danced in the sunlight, crowns of yellow grass and purple flowers tangled in their hair.
Wrapped in a towel, Griff tossed the barb into the sink. Obeying her orders, Nate sought the droplets of honey, petals of Moon Wreath and the stalk of a Stag Root, crushing them in a small bowl. Beau wasn’t holding Danny down anymore, instead, he simply held the boy’s small hand.
Griff had watched them from afar, weaving her own crown of gold and purple. Danny had crouched beside her, asking all he could about what it was like to draw and wield a soul-weapon. He’d talked about the kind of weapon he wished to have when he was old enough to be blessed with a mark. A sword, like Griff’s (but larger, obviously,) a lance or a polearm. But most of all, he wanted a shield.
With the solution made up, Griff poured a few droplets into the opening. With a belt tied around Danny’s upper thigh, Griff hoped that the poison would not spread. She squeezed his foot.
“Do you feel that?” She asked, her voice soft despite her thundering heart. Danny replied with a weak mewl that resembled yes. She continued up to his knee, where he continued to acknowledge he had feeling. Good. That’s good. Griff let herself breathe. Nora had given them some distance, up until then. Tears streaming down her cheeks, the mother hugged Griff, thanking her a hundred times over.
“He should be – he should be fine. The poison didn’t spread far enough to take his leg, but…it’ll likely be much weaker,” She said, straight forward. Nora brushed away the tears, nodding.
“I’ll take him straight to the Golden Sisters,” She assured Griff, brushing back the wild strands of brown hair in her face. I need to…take the three of them to the city.
“I’m sorry this happened, Nora. The Sisters will help him now, but, I need to take my charges to the city too,” Griff said, her breathing slowly returning to normal. As Griff stood in the doorway of the house, she leant against it for just a moment. Nora took the opportunity to ask her one last question.
“Love…what was that lullaby you sung to my boy to calm him down?”
Griff’s throat clenched, her jaw twitching slightly. “Something they sung to me before I could even walk,” She said with a thin, weak smile.
Griff wasn’t afraid of the lullaby, the spell or Nora. But she feared a question. A question one would ask if they knew what that lullaby was really about.
What kind of lullaby do you sing to a dying baby?
ns 172.70.127.164da2
and then Add to home screen.