The Jasmine Serpent
Griff found the park to be a rather peaceful, serene place, for all the three times she had visited it. The park itself lay directly in the heart of Valyrdonn, both physically and metaphorically. It was a place that children as young as two played about in the fields with spirits that had forgotten the name given to them in life. What seemed to be a hundred kites had taken to the sky today, joined by some of the bird-like spirits. With the sun’s gentle kiss and a clear sky of soft blue, it seemed to be the perfect day for families and spirits alike to come out and enjoy the park. By the canal that divided the park, Griff leant against the lamppost of the quaint bridge adjoining the two sides. Arms folded across her grey sweater, the Knight dug a heel into the gravel absent-mindedly. With a soft sigh, Griff looked to her quiet friend. Beau stood on the bridge, leant over the railing looking down onto the stream and fish in the canal below. He wore his own brand new clothes now. Loose, grey pants, black slippers and a loose, long-sleeved white shirt that rippled slightly in the sweet-scented wind. He was looking…better. His hair, once matted and constantly in a fray was combed back into a pony-tail, soft looking. Though it seemed no matter how patiently he had tried to comb all of it back a few strands still fell to frame the sides of his face. Colour had returned to his brown skin and life breathed back into his grey eyes. And yet…he still seemed detached. Driving away from the Church and helping with Danny, Beau had seemed a hundred times better. Then back at the city, he’d seemed more fragile and quiet. Now, after visiting Dante, he felt like a wandering soul, unsure of whether he really wanted to exist at all. There was something in his hand he was staring at, something that must pull him into a web of thought he has to take time and silence to untangle himself from. It was a little frustrating. She could see him, she could see the ups and downs and when he found himself lost in thought but…couldn’t quite understand why. Why it was his moods and how he acted seemed so erratic and almost without reason. A pang of guilt flooded through Griff’s chest. Maybe it was because of the current case? The three Knights were so focused on helping Kyra and Saul that maybe Beau felt abandoned, just a tag-along. She wanted to talk. To ask questions she didn’t have and try and explain the protective sense she had for him. But Griff couldn’t simply form these words. So instead, she went and bought some tea. At the edge of the west side of the park, a sleepy tea shop sat. Outside on a sprawl of old metal table and chairs, a couple, three girls from the school apartments and an elderly wife sitting beside a spirit, one which she assumed was once her husband. The Jasmine Serpent. From the young, cinnamon-smelling girl at the counter Griff ordered an orange-ginger tea and a raspberry for herself. While it was being brewed, Griff went to the telephone box nearby. A gang of butterflies rested atop the phone box. They watched her patiently as she spun the rotary dial for the Church’s number. It rung for a few moments of eternity, Griff clutching the phone, twining the cord around her wrist. Even though the voice that answered didn’t belong to Elaine or Rook, it still brought her relief that someone answered. Even if that voice belonged to that of a criminal feline.
“How lovely to hear that voice again, honourable knight,” Ryon purred. Griff could hear his grin and the twist of his two tails even through the static chatter of the phone.
“It’s always a pleasure Ryon,” She replied. “Good to hear you’re still haunting my home. How’s things?” Ryon took his time to reply, probably looking up from his patch in the sun to make sure the Church had fallen to pieces while he wasn’t looking. “Things are good. Rather quiet, the Fox and I entertain ourselves with sowing and hunting the absurd amount of mice in this place.”
“And the others, have Rook and Elaine returned?” Griff asked, biting her lip. “They haven’t. In fact we haven’t had anyone in the way of visitors, save for a boy named ‘Nate from the farmhouse.’ Brought us a basket of gifts and mentioned someone called Danny was doing okay,” Ryon mentioned. At least there’s that. “Have they at least contacted the Church yet?” She asked. Griff bit harder, almost enough to break the skin.
“No. Sorry, Griff.” Ryon said. He was being sincere, that much she knew. With nothing left to discuss, they hung up and Griff returned to the tea shop. There was a touch of anxiousness, a small twitch. But Griff understood their investigation would take a while, would prove dangerous up in those regions…but she still hoped they would find a way to contact her regardless. There were radios up in the lodge, strong enough that they could radio the Church, just to check in. I can’t stress about them too much. I have to focus on looking after Beau, Kyra and Saul. Rook and Elaine can take care of themselves. She truly believed that.
It didn’t feel all that long ago when the three were first given a set of radios. None of them had asked who had brought them to the Church, but had understood that they were tools, not toys. But just because they understood that didn’t mean they weren’t going to play with them. Mainly because it made hide-and-seek a hundred times more fun. They’d been how old? Eleven, twelve? Something like that. Hide-and-seek around the Church was always fun, but with the radios they could play in the woods now. While Rook sought them out, Elaine and Griff hid. While Elaine favoured the brush and undergrowth, Griff found the highest tree she could find and clambered up it. Cradled in its branches, she fuddled with the radio, attempting to muffle any static chatter with her black sweater. The sleeves were a little too long and it looked like it could almost be a dress on her, probably due to the fact Griff had stolen it from Rook. In return he’d taken a few gold clasps and earrings she’d never tried to wear. From then on he’d used those clasps to tie back his growing hair, and then eventually his dreads.
“At least give me a clue you guys,” Rook whined in the way only a kid could. He’d spent about ten minutes searching and had quite quickly grown bored. With a stifled giggle Griff turned on her radio. “We are…around the old strawberry thicket,” She said with a wicked grin. She’d given him a clue…to where Elaine was hiding. She could almost feel Elaine’s glare from her perch. But she wouldn’t say anything. Elaine would simply glare into the leaves and shadows, her yellow eyes lighting her own little nest. Stew in silence, as she always had. With the little clue Griff had given him, Rook would scour the area methodically. He would scan every inch of the woodland, stalking through the brush and eyeing any leaf that dare even twitch.
Griff passed the time with cloud-watching. Cradled in the branches that swayed slightly in the summer wind, the little knight looked to little patch of blue in the canopy and watched the lazy clouds roll past, the occasional spirit gliding overhead. It was a quiet, simple moment, but an extraordinary one. Because it was entirely her own. Each game had their purpose. Climbing races to help Elaine and her lack of versatility. Hide-and-seek to help Rook develop patience. And two truths one lie so Griff could learn how to read and understand speech and people better. Even though Elaine would rather lose herself in hours of playing with spirits, she still knew when Rook was upset even if he didn’t cry or complain. If something hurt Elaine’s feelings, Rook would always be the one to make Griff back off. But for this one moment, she didn’t have to worry about accidently making Elaine cry, annoying Rook or disappointing mother. For this one moment she had the summer breeze and the sky al to herself.
The wooden cups of tea were hot in her bare hands. Usually during the Autumn chill, Griff would slip on a pair of gloves, but the park had seemed too nice to cover up completely. She wanted to feel the kiss of the warm sun on as much skin as she could afford, at least while it lasted. There was a part of Griff that wanted something else, too. Her tumbles with Casey had been fun, but nothing that left the part inside her chest content and grateful. He’d been more than happy afterwards, but Griff had lost interest. She had begun to crave another’s skin to feel against her bare palms, stubble whiskers prickling against her thumbs. Beau still stood on the bridge, staring down into the canal. He had the point of his left shoe pointed onto the bridge, his heel facing the sky. Despite the small hunch and the shadow of the beard on his jaw, he still managed to remind Griff of one of the paintings in Dante’s house. An idea, a feeling of a caged bird trapped within a painting, now trapped within the skin hide of a man. It was in that moment that Griff promised to herself and to him that she would try her best to help not only Kyra and Saul, but Beau too. If the Church was to be his home, then Griff would do anything and everything to help him get out of whatever state he was in.
Without saying a word, Griff joined him on the bridge. She passed him his wooden cup of tea and he took a long drink. Now beside him, she saw what it was he’d been staring at. A piece of red cloth, resembling a bandanna. He’d wound it around his knuckles a stray piece of it wrapped around his thumb. What do I ask? Can I ask, what it is? The red is the same red of the Candlewax Witch...my next project after helping Kyra and Saul. Is that what he wants, to hunt her down? I can’t blame him. It’s disgusting enough that Witches such as her enslave spirits, but to keep a human too? There must’ve been a reason. Something she couldn’t do to a spirit. Is it anger that’s made him this way?
Griff took a sip of her own raspberry tea. Tenderly, she placed a hand beside his, brushing his side. Beau said nothing. A moment passed and words began to form on her tongue, until the horn of a sky-ship sounded above. Three ships sailed high above, the balloons a royal purple. The hull of the ships, from where they stood, seemed to glide comfortably through the air.
“I haven’t seen that type of ship before,” Beau murmured. His glassy eyes looked skyward. Griff fumbled over her own words for a moment. “Uh well, that’s a ship from our sister city. It’d be a team of dignitaries of the Coast, come to meet with the Council. They meet at every turn of the season to discuss matters for both spirits and humans…” Griff said softly. A tradition begun only two years ago…
“Beau… did you want to help me find the Candlewax witch?” She asked. Beau sunk down again, his eye-lids closing half-way. “I never told you how long I was in that house, did I?” He said, his voice glassy and soft. His words curled around Griff’s throat. “I never asked,” She replied, the words grating the sides of her throat as she forced them out.
“Three years. I lived underneath the floorboards for three years, serving her every…whim,” Beau said calmly, despite his shaking hands.
Beau.
“And I took you to witches home. And I just dragged you along as if you’d been trapped for – for a month,” Griff chocked out.
Beau remained silent. His eyes began to water and Griff finally understood the red piece of cloth he held so dearly. I’ll find her one day. He won’t be there when I do, but I’ll find her and kill her.
“Beau I know I haven’t been listening to you. In my own, stupid, selfish way I thought I was helping you. But I was treating you like just another one of our charges. Someone I can find something to kill and then drop you home. But you’re different. And I – I need to help you differently. If you’ll give me…a second chance,” Griff pled, placing hand gently on his shoulder. He did not weep. Tears that had flooded his eyes were blinked away within a moment.
“I have no one else. Not in this city or the next or the one after that,” Beau said slowly. “But I have you. I think for now, that’s enough,” He seemed to decide.
Saul and Kyra’s class were sprawled about the park, sitting beneath trees or sunning themselves on the open field atop picnic blankets. As soon as Kyra and Saul made to move to the library, Beau and Griff followed. In what was probably the one of the oldest buildings in the city, hundreds and hundreds of books called the two floors home. Immortal yellow lanterns floated about the place, illuminating the quiet spirits perusing the collections. While Kyra and Saul looked for whatever they were looking for, muttering under their breaths to each other, Beau and Griff found a quiet corner of the third level of the library for themselves. Because he’d asked to. Instead of answering her own instinct, the first voice that came to mind, Griff listened to him.
So amongst towers of books they sat, two lanterns floating just above. Griff listened to Beau as he read to her some his old, favourite novels. It was this little moment of opening up to her after the wake-up call that she received early, that did something to Griff’s heart. Twin flames ignited. One she knew well. A fire of compassion and care for Beau, a flame she had only felt for the children on the farm. But the one that was both familiar and unfamiliar, was the blue flame. One that bore a quiet but confident voice, urging her to hunt and kill. 433Please respect copyright.PENANAU38QCRM7c7