Burial of hearts the black widow's malice (5 page)

“It is a genetic gift from my
father
”.
Said Operk.

“Apologies, I did not mean to
offend, it merely caught a piece of my mind; I suppose there is no possible
cure for it?
”.

“No… my dear and if I were to
find one, I would vanquish it from all the lands that lay before me, from the
hilltops of the south, to the sunken valleys of the east, I would not rest
until all trace of it had ceased; I value this as a virtue, handed down to me,
connecting me to many eras forgotten”.

“It is nice that you value your
past and continue to stand firm for the future”.

“Enough of this mindless talk;
many
years, have I heard
many
words, from
many
people, about my skin.
Now Avis, Jonule asked us to look after you as our own and to his word I shall
do the actions; I see that your clothes have become worn from your pleasant…
journey here, may I be as obliged, as I am, to offer you some of my finest
cottons?”.

 Taking a mouthful of the
hognobbles, I replied in a mumbled tone.

“Yes please, if you could, that
would be somewhat helpful”.

“Very well, after breakfast
though, a needle head
will not
touch my hands until my hunger has been
patched”.

I cut gently into the rabbit, the
meat so tender and light, as if it were cake that had risen; the hognobbles
were perfect with the rabbit, giving the salty taste of the bacon, with the
crisp yet fluffy potato underneath. Dipping the hognobbles in the juice of the
rabbit, I quickly managed to go through most of what was placed on my plate,
leaving only the warm olive and onion bread for a small after snack.

Rising up I walked back over to
the preparation area, eating the bread as I did so, then pouring myself a small
drink of grapevine water to wash down this
most welcome
meal.

“Desserts and sweets everyone”.
Normona said in a loud voice, which easily led to the heads of many hungry folk
turning as hurried as it was spoke of. The queue reformed quickly, only this
time it was more unorganised; people were pushing and forcing their way to the
front, in order to get their sugary delights. I opted not to have any, although
they looked rather tantalising; do not want to be putting on any weight now.

After everyone had finished
epically quenching their appetites, I followed Operk out of the meeting place,
casually striding back to the main centre of the village.

He had a petite stall attached to
the front of his home, presenting a varied selection of his latest garments; it
was a modest store, but it was laid out elegantly; the clothes were folded impeccably,
not a crease, or a stray thread in sight. The assortment of both male and
female clothing was equal in proportions, so as not to offend. Occasionally he
would spray perfumes in and around his clothes, trying to lure susceptible
individuals in, as well as keeping the clothing smelling fresh. Judging by the
appearance of the villagers, they were not too keen on separating themselves
from the sheeple; perhaps this was his challenge, a personal goal to bring a
new brightly decorated era to the clothing of Yilesul.

By this time it was mid-day, the
sun was idly waiting for the evening to set in, the rustling of the leaves was
somehow soothing, listening as the birds tittered to each other in a rhythmic
manner. Operk had just entered into his home to gather his supplies; no grace
was permitted through this, it was as though he was plundering the treasure of
a discarded fortress; it must have been an unsightly mess in his home, never
before had I heard
so much
banging and clanking.

After a short period Operk
emerged; in his grip was a selection of materials, a small sewing carriage box
made of finely cut cherry-wood, as well as a creased leather pouch, overflowing
with sequins.

“Now Avis, I have many ideas, but
little time, so let us not be selective; tell me, what colours do you like?
”.
Operk said in an exhausted tone.

Looking at the materials, lilac,
pink, mustard yellow, none of these would suit my tastes, especially mustard,
good lord no…; in the end I settled for an opal red. The material was soft,
laid atop of a thick woven fabric for strength and warmth; deciding not to have
any sequins, I handed back the material of choice to Operk.

Opening his sewing box, he pulled
out a folded measuring tool.

“Open your legs and reach out
your arms”.

He began to measure me, noting
down the sizes on a piece of parchment to his right.

“
Now
, come back to me in a
few hours when the sun begins to set and I shall have it ready for you; perhaps
you could go see some of the other villagers?
”.

“Thank you Operk, I appreciate
your kindness”.

Walking back towards the dwelling
I was first taken to, Jonule happily approached me, smiling as he often did.

“My, my Avis, did you enjoy the
celebrations, they were marvellous, were they not? My people will stay happy
for a long time; the fun, the food, the laughter, it brings joy to me to see”.

“Yes and I am pleased that you
did not
slaughter
me when I arrived”. I said with a touch of sarcasm.

A huge smirk crept across his
face, his lips tightening, then a sudden burst of laughter ensued.

“Oh my Avis, you are a comedian
at will, do not worry, although I like the taste of freshly baked human, I have
had my fill
for today
”. Jonule winked at me, giving me a feeling of
uneasiness.

“Now my dear, I have arranged a
dwelling for you to stay in, it was home to one of my dearest of friends, but
he has chosen to leave us for another adventure;
please
, come in”.

My dwelling was situated next to
Jonules. It was roughly sized to about half of his, but I much preferred the
homely feeling, rather than a large void of luxury, without a personality. A
plaque was perched to the left of the door with my name etched into it; as was
the same with others, so as not to confuse. A rokson bird, also smaller than
the other, sat perched; a small bed had been prepared, the base formed from a
strong wood; laid atop were cushions and a quilt to bathe me in comfort as I
slept. The floor was far from exhausted, it appeared as if newly placed just
for me; not for long I thought, remembering the comments of Doris.

“
Thank you
”. I said in
delight.

“You are more than welcome, if
there is
anything
you need, let me know. Dinner is an hour after sunset,
make yourself at home and speak to my people”.

I emptied my sack, placing the
items I had brought on the shelving, next to my bed; my silver dagger taking
pride of place.

“
Squawk
, pretty dagger”.

Startled I looked up at the
rokson bird in disbelief, did it actually just speak to me? Could today get any
more unusual than it already was?

“
Squawk
, pretty dagger”.

My jaw dropped as the bird,
again, spoke to me.

“
Squawk
, why the long
face, I can talk,
squawk
”.

“What? How?
”.

“Avis, Avis pretty name”.

Staring at the bird for a good
thirty seconds, I shook my head; perhaps wolves can meow as well.

“So… you can talk… what is your
name?
”.

“
Squawk
, my name is
Freddy-Fred-Freddy, but you can call me mike”.

“Ok… what is your real name mike?
”.
My face squinting in disapproval.

“Mark”.

“So it is
mark
, not mike?
”.

“
Squawk
,
squawk
,
do
not
mark mike”. The bird flew around the room, making a mammoth racket
as it did so.

“Excuse me”. A small voice said.

Looking behind the door I saw
Zinmbe, with a slight look of concern upon her face.

“I am sorry to disturb upon your
new dilemma, I heard the swirling of many a noise. I see you have met your
rokson bird, Bibi”.

“So that… is the bird’s name
then”. I said relieved to
finally
discover it.

“Yes, he is quite the joker to
new folks, but as he becomes accustomed he relaxes down to a kind, gentle
soul”.

“Well, I do hope he calms down
soon
”.
Diving down, as Bibi flew past, seemingly trying to take out one of my eyes.

“Bibi,
End
”. Zinmbe said
whilst raising her hand up, as if a commanding spell had been given.

Bibi gently flew back down onto
the perch then closed his eyes.

“Thank you Zinmbe”.

“You are upmost welcome. Avis,
would it be unkind if I could make a suggestion? Would you join me in my
dwelling? I feel there is much I can teach you; perhaps you can get some quiet
now Bibi is lulled”.

“
Yes
, I would like that; I
have quite a journey ahead of me and could do with all the help I can get”.

“That you could”. Zinmbe said
whilst lowering her head, turning towards the door to exit.

Following Zinmbe, I was expecting
to just go into another standard dwelling, but hers was slightly outside of the
village and to my surprise it was not upon the ground; it was built within a
large oak tree, in fact a huge oak tree, towering above all the others, like a
giant’s play-toy. A staircase had been carved, twisting itself around the tree.
Each step I took gave a similar creek to that of the hallway of the inn at
Malkaretz. Winding my way around the tree at least ten times, we reached the
top; her dwelling was positioned cosily between a large
gap
in the branches. On the balcony was a selection of herbs and spices in broken,
worn down pots. A small black mixing dish was in the corner of the balcony,
hanging from a strong branch above.

Welcoming me into her home, I
gazed around, scrutinizing any imperfection, but they remained only silent
thoughts, held for myself.

As with Jonules dwelling there
was a selection of cushions and quilts to sit upon, but also she had a large
case of books; old looking, mystical and fraying slowly at the edges. Bags of
ground herbs and spices were spread out across one of the tables, as well as a
cursed book on alchemy.

An intriguing symbol was upon the
floor, drawn with a white dye of sorts, smeared in whichever way direction; the
symbol itself portrayed shapes that seemed to be born out of folly.

Next to the bookcase was a group
of large jars, with labels affront; murky looking water filled them, whilst
small objects floated around.

“Sit yourself over here if you
could?
”.
Zinmbe said whilst pointing towards the
symbol on the floor.

Placing myself down
strategically, as not to rub any of the symbolic markings, I was offered a warm
cup of wormwill tea; the sound of which
of course…
filled me with
delicious thoughts.

“Do not distress, the name does
not embody the taste”. Zinmbe said almost as if hearing my thoughts.

Taking a sip of the tea, it was
warming, it had a strong taste of orange with an earthy undertone.

“It will help to relax you”.

And that it did. No sooner than
had I took a few more mouthfuls than my body had started casually slowing down,
my mind at rest and my muscles loosening.

“What a wholesome drink, you
should trade this, you could make a
fine
bit of coin”. I said as my
usually strong voice began to reduce into a soothed, slumber like manner.

“Avis, I know where you are going
and why. I have seen, I have heard; you need to be prepared, the journey will
test you greatly”.

“How? Why?
”.
I said in a confused manner.

“Alexander was taken from you by
the spirits of the otherworld; he, as you, will be tested to see if you are apt
to wield the power of the amulets. You shall at first, as you are aware,
challenge the might of ‘Hecate’. She is strong and has existed beyond time, she
is the guardian of the first amulet, a warrior yet was also once a loving
soul”.

“But in what way will I defeat someone
of such power? I do not hold the skills she does, I
barely
even
understand the words in these ancient books of magick”.

“
I
will show you the route
and it is up to you to learn from it”.

Zinmbe stood up and walked over
to the bookshelf. Her finger ran across many books, leaving an almost clean
trail, surrounded by dust, until she came to the book she was looking for;
firmly grasping it, she placed it within my hands.

Beholding it, a painting of a
woman was upon the front; she was as three but one, holding a torch, a key, a
dagger and serpents.

“Do you see the key she holds in
her grasp? That is what you need to obtain in order to reveal the amulet of
Hecate”. Zinmbe said whilst pointing directly at the key on the book’s
painting.