Ch: 60 Sticks and Stones

Gary set a tiny wooden cup of honeyed moonshine beside the loaf, milk and honey on his ritual platter, resting on a child sized table and chair, within a circle of salt. Intricate, swirling lines of sugar spun in a complex network around the offering and two small houseplants. 

A night blooming jasmine and a small, potted plum tree, improbably in full blossom, rested at the center of the circle. Watchers sat on the benches in his garden, only a few wrapped in blankets, despite midwinter’s chill.

 

“This is going to be complicated, please remain silent, or she may refuse to talk to me.” The young sorcerer called to his friends.

 

He brought his viola up and counted his family off. “All right gang, let’s steal some apples! One, two, three…”

‘Stealin’ Apples’ always brought a smile, no matter who was listening. Deceptively simple and playfully cheeky, the tune left plenty of open space for solos and improvisation. Liam took advantage of that, running a few lovely bars of pentatonic whimsey into their ears from his haunted guitar. 

“Fats Waller wrote a banger, but it takes that delicate touch and some passion to really make it hot. Liam, you are smoking right now.” Gary sang over his viola. “We gotta get more jazz into you.”

 

 After a few minutes, the pile of wooden parts lurched and enveloped the plants once again. 

He sat down in a camp chair at a small table and inhaled the scent of fresh bread, butter and honey. His was a mirror image of the setup inside the salt, complete with an adult sized table and chair. 

Gary threw a thumbs up at the watchers on the patio, they had their own lunch going on. He set his instrument on a stand that appeared at his command and draped a napkin over his lap to wait patiently for his date.

 

Her emerald green compound eyes glinted in every color, as the winter sun peeked from behind a cloud. 

“Oh. It still exists, how disappointing. Still, I am willing to ease it into the void, its passing will be tranquil and painless.” The beautiful mantis slipped into her chair with a graceful nod when he gestured silently to his offering.  

 

“I will decline your offer, miss dryad. My woman and children would be very disappointed otherwise… will you speak with me today?” In reply, her eyes scanned the silent watchers.

“I understand that I am taboo, but I’m also the only one who can help you. You have a spore wasp in you, that must be painful. I can get rid of it.” 

 

Her insectile head snapped up from the irresistible platter before her, eyeing him silently. Only the subtle grinding of her mandibles revealed any emotion, whatever that meant.

“It offers a bargain without revealing the cost. It tricked me once and is owed a debt…” Her eyes finally settled on him across the salt ring.

“Better that the druid behind these workings had courage enough to reveal themselves.” She manifested her human hands as elegant and graceful fingers tore the loaf and dabbed it in butter and honey. 

“To set so fine a table and force me to dine with their slave… I will have harsh words with its master when we meet.” She sipped her tiny cup of milk with demure pleasure. 

“When I destroy it, it will be reborn as something wholesome, it should know this. All souls are eternal, imprisoning one in this way is shameful.” 

She paused to consider, while cleaning the last crumbs from her platter. “It may speak, perhaps I shall hear its words on the wind.” 

 

Her delicate, porcelain fingers wiggled with unconcealed glee as she took up her tiny mug of honeyed liquor. When the first quiet slurp was followed by a tiny sigh, Gary started playing his viola. 

 

“My friends found you rampaging in the forest, mad with spore wasp stings and nearly exhausted. They thought you a simple monster and brought your construct to me as spoils of battle.” He drew a few soft notes from his instrument, coaxing and sweet.

“I will offer you what you offered me, I can ease you into the void, to bloom again somewhere…” She snapped her gaze to him at that. “Or I can cleanse you of the infestation and plant this lovely tree somewhere for you.”

 

She sat stock still, holding her cup halfway to her mandibles. “What would its master demand for this cleansing? I am curious as to its master’s motivations.”

 

“First, I’m the one you are dealing with. May I have your name?” He said softly.

 

“It has spoken my name once before… I will allow it to do so again. Only because a debt is owed, it troubles me with its contradictory existence.” Her mandibles ground against the cup as she sipped in frustration.

 

“Thank you Plumeria, I’m Gary Ward. It's very nice to meet you. To be clear, you are dealing with me, there is no hidden master. Will you let me help?” His music continued, soft and aimless, devoid of magic.

 

She set her empty cup down and sighed, glaring at its ragged, splintered rim. “I have damaged your goods, another debt owed. What cost for what you offer? I will not serve it… you. I will not serve you, Gary Ward, undead druid.”

“No cost, no price. The spoils from your construct have compensated me more than adequately.” Slowly and carefully he reached out his toe and scraped a line through his salt barrier.

“All I want is to either free you, or set you up somewhere nice and be on my way.” With even greater care, he reached over and refilled her tiny cup from his jug. “No debts, no bargains, just one civilized entity aiding another in need.” 

 

She watched with predatory intensity, her arms flickering between shredding carapaced horror and slim, delicate humanity. 

“You are foolishly bold, or boldly foolish… Gary Ward, druid who happens to be undead.” Plumeria drew herself up to her full four feet of insectile glory and stepped over the broken salt line, before halting with a gasp.

“What is this place? How can this be?” She lost all interest in Gary and the watching humans as the being skittered and capered around the garden in childlike glee. 

“Oh days long gone, returned again!” Wings of iridescent purple burst from her back, lifting her into a mature grenadier pear tree. She lit among the boughs and plucked a ripe fruit, nibbling with absolute bliss on the sweet, juicy flesh.

 

“Come down, miss Plumeria, we aren’t done talking yet.” Gary called gently into the branches. “This is the garden of my home, I love it too.”

 

“Now you have freed me, I sense the touch of Joy, Beast and a few others on you, druid. Is this some machination of Joy?” Her head emerged from the branches, in the form of a beautiful woman with wise, amethyst eyes and deep purple lips.

Her short, ragged hair was festooned with living plum branches in full fruit. “If it was her goal to lure me back to the court of summer, she has succeeded.” 

 

A tiny woman in rich robes of amber and plum purple hopped from the branches, dusting herself off, despite her immaculate condition. Her smile was warm and pleasant, so too was the perfume wafting from her in subtle waves. It was all summertime, warm golden afternoons and the smell of growing things.

“This garden of forgotten summer is a thing unseen for millenia and this body you have wrought, it is an aberration. It should not function, yet it does. An unrooted dryad is as impossible as an undead druid. What are you?” 

She smiled again, licking pear juice from her fingers with delight. “I will solve your mysteries eventually, now introduce me to these others. I smell little druidlings in the dwelling. I would see and taste them as well.”

 

“Be careful how you approach my children, they aren’t ready to make bargains and their mother is… a formidable woman, don’t test her, she is in charge.” He waved at the watchers and sat on a bench nearby with his twelve string, while they introduced themselves.

#

 

“Your half breed ironmonger will not give me the druidlings! I demand access as I was promised!” The tiny woman raged and stomped to the beat of ‘The Orange Blossom Special’ while Shai fumed nearby.

 

“I warned you about their mother…” He began.

 

“Warned her of me didst thou? Hae ye put up signs? Beware ‘o Shai? For surely I shall bite thee fer that!” Hands on hips, glaring at him with a stoney faced grimace, Gary caught that telltale twinkle in Shai’s eye.

 

“I warned you that their mother was a wise and beautiful woman who will have final say over how and when you meet the children…” He began again.

 

“You said no such! I would taste them, but she will not allow it! Your woman is as impossible as you are, she is half a druid, yet tainted with iron to her bones!” She paced back and forth between the pair in miniature fury. 

“This ancient grudge between our peoples is unfair! It has been so long since a free druid walked the land, you cannot withhold what we need. Have we not suffered long enough?” She sagged to the ground between them, disconsolate and so very small.

“Were we so wrong to bring men here? Is not your very sentience our first gift to you? Our druids were so lonely, did we not cultivate your species to stand upright and speak in the first place? ” She looked up, not pleading exactly, but close enough to hit the mark anyway.

“It was we who brought man the light of reason and the gift of wine. We needed you then, as now… we reached through the veil, casting into the void for an animal to serve us. That you became so much more than the beasts you were, is our joy… and sorrow.” 

 

The woebegone spirit was too much for Shai. “Very well, I dinnae ken whae ye tell of grudges an such. Speak nae of ‘tasting’ mine children, tis unseemly, even do ye nae mean whae it sounds like.” Shai grumbled, while waving at Becky.

 

A tide of small figures washed over Plumeria, as barely restrained children carried her off into the garden to play. 

 

“She can’t hurt them, Shai. She’s only a threat to me because… I’m me, I guess.” He shrugged hopelessly. “I think she’ll be easier to deal with once those spore wasps are out of her, let’s ask if she will let us get those nasties out now.”

 

The procedure turned out to be rather simple, the tiny woman kissed each child goodbye and withdrew her essence back into her amber chrysalis. Becky submerged the irregular green stone in the bath, holding it under until only a bright green stick insect remained.

She clambered slowly up Becky’s arm and perched on her shoulder, swaying side to side in happiness. 

“Spore wasps don’t have a fully developed animus, so they just fizzle away, they can’t even sting once they hit the water.” Becky said, as she stroked the tiny creature before handing her to Amy, who rushed off with Wilford to place her in the plum sapling she had been wearing.

 

Before long she was back in her puppet body, stretching and limbering up. “To be unrooted and free to move about is disconcerting Gary Ward, druid who…”

 

“Just Gary please, we’re friends now.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Your puppet works this way because the lumber came from your old construct. I just provide the magical energy, I added a few minor enchantments for durability and comfort, but it’s mostly you. The tree is a cutting from your original plum tree. Liam thought it was too beautiful to pass by.”

 

She ran her eyes over the young warrior’s lean and graceful form, with those ‘I just stepped out of a korean drama’ good looks and brooding eyes. “A man of taste and culture I see…”

“Why does the golden woman glare so furiously? Oh! He turns red!” She turned from a furiously blushing Liam to address Becky. “Humans are exciting, I had forgotten how dynamic your forms are.”

She craned her neck, looking up at Gary. “These new things to see and experience are thrilling, but what comes next? I cannot wander rootless, as a mortal does.”

 

“Short term, we carry you as a potted tree on the cart and plant you somewhere nice. Long term, that is up to you. I thought you might enjoy the orphan’s secret garden. It’s a marvelous place, with plenty of humans to talk to.” 

He grinned at her. “The younglings are going to love you my dear. I know a couple old nerds who are going to be excited to meet you as well.”

#

 

She rode on Becky’s shoulder, shifting and swaying like a branch in the wind as they passed through town. Her tiny head swiveled to and fro excitedly.

“No, we always move about this much at home. It’s how we get things done.” Becky said quietly to the dryad, as she rode her pony alongside a shaken and visibly exhausted Levin. 

“I’d like to say this was a weird trip, Levin. Really it’s pretty average for us.” She swayed in her saddle and shoulder bumped the young man, with the shoulder that did not have an immortal nature spirit perched on it. 

 

“The chaos I can handle…” He smiled nervously. “I’m convinced that at least one of your friends is actively planning to murder me at any particular moment.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You must have felt like you were going crazy all week…” She shoulder bumped him once again. “Yeah, that’s true. I think Liam is currently deciding whether to stuff you down a storm drain or let you float down river.”

 

“Hmm? No Becky, it’s Gary’s bath, always the bath. No evidence. Neat and tidy, just how we like it.” Liam replied distractedly.

 

“I stand corrected.” She chirped happily. “One of them is always considering how to end you, get used to it. You showed up with Brennan Fallon twice…” She shook her head sadly. “Then skulking outside the yard, peeking over fences. Pretty shady.”

 

“Hey! I asked for you at the office, they got super weird and started chanting… of course I wasn’t going to just walk right back in.” He grumbled half sourly, half grinning. 

He stretched in his saddle and grinned at the lovely young woman at his side. “If I’d known this was the Adventuring life, I would have given Brennan the trapdoor chamberpot and joined up that first night.”

 

“Trapdoor chamberpot? What’s that?” Gary asked, alerted by his uncanny sense for the strange and naughty.

 

“It’s when you catch a baby trapdoor spider and put it in a chamberpot…” Levin looked upset by this revelation about Gary, perhaps more than any other. “Seriously, that’s basic. I thought you orphans were good at this?”

 

“Relax, Gary’s a special case, you should have figured that out by now. Just breathe your way through the madness. Come on, we can return the horses and ponies to the stable. I don’t think you can handle another musical number.” 

The party dismounted from their borrowed friends, continuing on into the Adventure compound while Becky and Levin led the horses and ponies away.

 

Otho met them at the gate with a wide smile “I trust everything went smoothly…” He fixated on Gary. “Lady Joy is growing impatient my lad, she seems rather interested in your latest experiments as well.” 

 

“My experiments are just that, mine. Please inform lady Joy that her pressure and insistence only makes me more certain that I can’t Contract with her now.” He sighed long and slow. “If she wants me so bad, she can pressure the others on my demands instead.”

“On that note, any movement on Theo and Helene? Are they still fussing?” He asked with a sly wink.

 

“Oh, yes.” Otho said with a grin. “They have been pestering any Order knight they see for a few days now. They even sent a demand to the duke and, I assume, the capitol.”

 

“That’s another thing, who’s in charge? Is there a king? How far is it to the capitol?” He asked, as they strolled through the compound.

“The council of lords and clergy rule from the capitol. I have never been there, though I hear it is the largest and most beautiful of all the cities of man.” He replied dreamily. “I have requested a permit to journey there several times and been denied each time.”

 

“You need a permit? You, need a permit?” He asked in confusion. “I thought you were the high priest of Joy, how do they get to tell you no?”

 

Otho stopped dead in his tracks, going slightly pale under his deep bronze tan. “Gary, I had never asked that question, not once in the two hundred and eighty years, since my first request was denied.” 

He set a furious gaze on his young friend. “Now I am cross indeed. Carry on children, I have a letter to write, and some pointed questions for the duke as well.” Otho swept away in a swirl of green robes, headed for his temple, no doubt.

 

Gary and Shai built the home on the far side of the main building, with their domain stretching back to touch the area of Ivy’s prior garden. Gary and Shai’s previous address was now, rich dark earth that promised a marvelous spring season.

Becky and Liam worked together, using a bronze trowel crafted for the purpose by their mad musician, to plant the tiny plum tree directly in the center of the kid’s new garden plot. 

While they worked, Gary and Ivy assembled a small playhouse of clapboards and cedar shingles, held together with brass nails and wooden pegs. “They hate iron, all the fae do really, but it’s toxic to dryads. Just like lead is to us…”

Ivy’s blank, questioning look made him grin. “Lead is a toxic metal, it doesn’t exist here. Zygnos theorized that was why my old home had no magic, too much iron and lead around.”

He put Amy and Wilford to work, carrying tiny furniture and a small, glowing river stone, carved with strange runes into the playhouse. When it was all arranged, Plumeria climbed from Becky’s shoulder, to her sapling.

“Your doll body is stored in your house, the stone in the fireplace is a tiny piece of me, it should give you a steady supply of magic, wherever we wander off to.” Gary dusted himself off, gathered his little family together.

“We are right next door if you need anything or just want to come over. There is a lot of iron mongery going on though, you know how we mortals are.”

 

Somehow the dryad managed to convey gratitude and a profound sense that she found Gary barely tolerable, in one fluid dance move. With that, she vanished into her branches to rest and put down roots.

#

 

They went to bed early that night, passing out in a pile all together in the big bed. 

“Nae dust fer thee, we must nae avoid Thirp an Ducky simply fer Joy being a busy body…” Shai giggled and nestled in closer. “Sleep, dream wi us boy.” 

 

They arrived within moments of each other, slipping into the other place almost as a group. Amy and Wilford hopped up and skittered off with Becky in hot pursuit as they thundered down the stairs.

 

Gary and Shai stepped into the garden and found a number of forms looming in the distance. They were a little way off, spread in a loose semi circle around the garden gate, taking their ease and watching something on the big screen. 

“I’m not complaining per se, but maybe we could use our time more wisely?  I like ‘Darbie O’Gill and the Little People’ as much as the next guy…” Gary began.

 

“I see that you find this frivolous, Gary.” Marduk interrupted him brusquely. “We, the gods and spiritual entities gathered here, have great difficulty interacting and understanding mortal lives and experiences.” He swept his gauze clad arms wide, to encompass the entities lingering outside. 

“Think of this as an introductory class on mortals. There are also few outside entities attending out of curiosity, auditing the class, if you will. Some are gods whose children are not human or are from other local worlds. You are a bit of a curiosity around here.”

 

“So why an old movie about leprechauns? It’s super cheesy and aside from the musical numbers, best forgotten.” Amy climbed into his arms and curled up there with finality.

 

“This work touches on a few key points of human and fae interactions, but yes, we all enjoyed the music!” Thirp whispered from her perch on a tree. “Wilford suggested this one, it seems a favorite. Marduk will manage things here.” 

Thirp skittered excitedly in a circle. “We should retire to your home to discuss our recent findings, we have a lot to go over.”

 

“Are War, Craft or Order lurking out there or are they still in hiding?” He asked softly, once they were inside. 

 

“They are not eager to interact with Marduk, we have yet to catch sight of them since you sent Craft packing” 

 

He nodded happily. “I don’t want them getting any helpful hints on how to hide whatever they are up to. Leave them in the dark if you can.”

 

“Our curriculum is general and wide in scope, our current investigations remain private.” She cooed soothingly.