Ephemeral and Fleeting

by Patricia Reding

She sighed. “It’s all right, Adele. I know I promised you more help. I’ll see what I can do about that. It’s just that—” She grabbed the sack and waved it again. “We depend on the proper medications for the proper purposes. This is chamomile. I can tell by the look of it and by its characteristic smell—of apples. It is generally harmless—but in the hands of someone with allergies to certain types of plants, it could cause respiratory problems. That could be dangerous.”

  She dropped the bag, then swished the tea ball in her cup. “As to valerian,” she said, “it is a powerful sleep inducer—but once again, it can be dangerous. Taken the wrong way, at the wrong time, or in the incorrect dosage, it can cause nausea, headaches, and even dizziness—all of which could prove seriously problematic.”

  “I understand.”

  “Besides,” she huffed, “keeping these dried things in bags—in a kitchen— Well, that’s just— It’s not good practice. If they get moist, they could mildew, and that could cause another set of problems altogether.”

  Adele nodded.

  “Look,” Lucy said, waving her hand toward the larder, “this cannot go on. So I’ll get to it tomorrow.” She scowled. “I suppose, in truth, I’m probably the right person to do it anyway, as I’m well versed in herb-lore. That way I’ll be certain it gets done correctly.” She caught Adele’s eye. “If you’d like to learn a bit about it, you can assist.”

  Adele smiled, falteringly. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” Lucy swallowed the last of her tea. “We’ll get started first thing in the morning.”

  “Have we got enough glass jars?” Lucy asked as she stood examining the items on the table.

  “I believe so,” Adele said.

  “Very well then, let’s get at it.”

  Lucy started removing items from the larder shelves, handing them off to Adele, who in turn handed them to her assistant, Barbara Jo, who then set them on the table.

  “There are a few more left,” Lucy said as she paused to look over the pile of goods. “Can you move those jars over a bit farther to make more room?” she asked, pointing.

  “I’ll do it,” Barbara Jo offered.

  Having returned to the larder, Lucy continued emptying it. Finally, she handed the last items to Adele.

  “That’s it,” she said as she proceeded to the table and then, with her hands on her hips, stood looking at it all. “What a mess.”

  “It looks about like it did right after the raid on the compound,” Adele agreed, grimacing.

  “Well then—” Lucy glanced Barbara Jo’s way. “You make the labels. Please be certain they’re legible.” Then she turned to Adele. “I’ll identify the items. You will put them in the jars. There’s a wide mouth funnel there to use to keep the mess down.”

  “Understood.”

  “Wash and dry it out well after each item. We don’t want one jar contaminated with what belongs in another—and we don’t want any moisture getting into any of the jars. It could mold.”

  “Got it.”

  Lucy grabbed the first bag. “Do you know how these got so out of order?”

  “After the raid on the compound, things were in a shambles. I think some of these,” Adele said, holding up a handful of the bags, “just got tagged with whatever someone thought was correct.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, and it wasn’t until back when the children were ill, right after we arrived here, that I became aware that there was anything wrong.”

  “Hmmm. So, they’ve been like this for several months now. Gracious,” Lucy muttered. “All right, well . . . this label says ‘bay laurel.’” She opened the bag and removed a few long, narrow leaves. Still green, but very dry, they cracked in her hand. “This is bay laurel, all right.” She handed the item off to Adele to jar, as Barbara Jo made an identification tag.

  “I use it in stews,” Adele said as, having filled the vessel, she placed a cover on it. Then she wrapped the label, tied to a leather cord, around its top.

  “That’s right,” Lucy said. “Now here’s . . . dried borage flowers.” She handed the next item over after sniffing at it. “Fortunately, it was marked correctly.” Then, “It’s good for colic, cramps, and urinary disorders, among other things,” she added.

  As Adele and Barbara Jo completed jarring the item, Lucy handed over another. “Dill,” she said. “There’s no mistaking its look or smell. See these little green bits?” She put some in her hand and held it out. “These are leaves. The plant itself is almost . . . fern-like.” She passed the bag off.

  “What’s it used for?” Barbara Jo asked.

  “Medicinally? Mostly to calm the digestive system. But it’s also great for adding flavor to foods—especially fish.”

  She moved to the next one. “This is lavender—another easily recognizable look and scent. It’s got a clean, floral fragrance. Well, so far, so good.”

  “I use it for cleaning,” Barbara Jo said. “Now and again, I’ll bruise a handful and leave it in a stuffy room to help freshen it up.”

  “Yes,” Lucy agreed, “there are a lot of great uses for lavender. Cooking. Cleaning. You can use its essential oil in candles for a good scent, or for a quick and powerful remedy for a burn, and its dried flowers in soaps give them an exfoliating quality.”

  Opening the next bag, she took a look, then sniffed at it. “Yes, this is tarragon.” She offered it to Adele. “Can you smell something a bit like anise?”

  Adele agreed that she could.

  So the women worked through the morning. Although they found a few mislabeled items, most of them, to Lucy’s satisfaction and relief, had been marked correctly.

  After taking a short midday break, they continued.

  “What are you all up to?” Leala asked, as she entered the kitchen.

  Lucy looked up. “Just getting some order to things around here.” She paused, biting her lip. Then, “Say, are you and Fidel available for dinner this evening?” she asked.

  “I am, and so far as I know, Fidel’s got nowhere else to be. He’s no spring chick, you know. He doesn’t get around so easily these days.” Leala chuckled. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’d just like to discuss some things.” Lucy turned to Adele. “Maybe we could finish the rest of these tomorrow,” she suggested.

  “If you don’t mind, Lucy, it would be best to wrap this up. I’ve got a lot of things I need to see to, and truth to tell, I’d appreciate having this mess out of my way.”

  “No, you’re right, of course.”

  Barbara Jo picked up one of the bags. Glancing at the label, she scowled. Then she opened it and sniffed. “Ewww,” she said. “What is in this?”

  “Hand it over,” Lucy said.

  She did.

  Lucy read the label and smiled. Then she took a whiff of its contents. “Yes, this is right,” she said. “Dried magic frog juice.”

  “What?” Adele asked. “I’ve never heard of such a—”

  “Actually,” Lucy said, laughing, as she pulled a stick out from the bag, “on each of these sticks, is dried frog venom. It comes from a far off land and thus, is quite difficult to acquire.”

  “What does it do?” Barbara Jo asked.

  “Some say it’s an antidote for snake bites. Others say it can help with fatigue, and even certain addictions. It’s also an extremely powerful pain killer.” She dropped the stick back into the bag and handed it off. “It must be kept dry and free of mold. So let’s get it jarred.”

  As her assistants set out to do her bidding, Lucy grabbed the next bag. “Oh, here’s another one you’ll like. It’s called ‘Talking Rock Orchid.’”

  “‘Talking Rock?’” Barbara Jo repeated.

  “Orchid. Yes. It can be used for gum disease. Hence, it’s name.” She handed it off.

  “All right then, next we have—” She picked up another item and read the label. “‘Bee balm.’” She reached inside the bag and pulled out some of its contents. “No, this label is wrong.” She sniffed. “
Right. This is . . .” Her eyes narrowed.

  “What?” Adele asked.

  She sniffed again. “Oh, I know. It’s crushed feverfew leaves.” She handed the item off for labeling. “Bee balm can have a bit of a minty or even peppery smell. It can be used to help with symptoms like sniffles.”

  “And feverfew?”

  “It’s got a musty, sometimes bitter, smell.”

  “Yes, and it’s used for headaches,” Leala piped in.

  “That’s right,” Lucy agreed. Then, whilst Barbara Jo prepared a tag, and Adele filled a jar with the herb, she readied the next one.

  “This says ‘lemon balm,’ but it’s actually marigold. The first is for upset stomachs, among other things, the second is for sunburn and other skin conditions. It also can be used for gastric problems and joint pain.” She paused, in thought. “I recall that my mother used to make an infusion of it for women to treat . . . female infections. You know?” She pursed her lips, then looked back at the others. “In any case, like we discussed with chamomile last night, some people can’t use marigold. If they take it internally, it can make them wheeze—cause difficulty with their breathing.”

  “Good catch,” Leala said.

  “Now, here’s one marked ‘parsnip root,’” Lucy said, grabbing another bag. She opened it and sniffed at the contents, then stopped cold, scowling. “Wait. This isn’t parsnip root. This is . . .” She reached in for a pinch, then dropped it in her other palm. She stood, staring at it.

  “What is it?” Adele asked.

  Her gaze danced Leala’s way. “Take a look,” she said to her, handing the bag over. Then she turned back to Adele. “Do you recall the type of tea that Saga regularly requested?”

  “Yes. She drank parsnip root tea—for her arthritis. She told me so herself. She brought some along with her to the compound, but she ran out.”

  “And do you know . . . Did you give her some of this?” Lucy asked, taking the bag back from Leala whose brow was furrowed.

  “I don’t recall that I did.” She frowned. “Wait a minute. If memory serves, I asked Barbara Jo to do it.”

  “Yes, I got her tea for her,” Barbara Jo said. Then her gaze danced from Lucy to Leala. Noticing the look in their eyes, she stepped back. “Well, that’s what it was marked. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, yes, I . . . I must have.”

  Lucy and Leala exchanged a glance.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Look,” Lucy said, “it’s not your fault.”

  “What? Oh, gracious Good One!” Barbara Jo drew her hands to her cheeks. “What is it?”

  “It’s . . . hemlock,” Leala said.

  “Wh— Hemlock? Oh, no! You mean I— I killed Saga?” She dropped into a nearby chair.

  Lucy put her hand on her shoulder. “Look, it was an accident. You couldn’t have known. I don’t blame you. No one would.”

  “I killed her!” Barbara Jo muttered. “I— I murdered someone!”

  “Stop it!” Lucy scolded. “You did not take her life with premeditation. It was an accident. Nothing more.”

  Barbara Jo sat with her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide.

  “Come on, we’re not through here yet,” Lucy said. “Like Adele said, we need to wrap this up.”

  “But—”

  “Barbara Jo—enough. It was an accident. It could have been at anyone’s hand. Now, I don’t want to hear any more about it. But we do have to do everything possible here to make certain that something like that doesn’t ever happen again. Understood?”

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Good.” Lucy turned back to the remaining herbs. “Now, here’s another.” She read the next label, opened the bag, and then sniffed the contents. Suddenly, all the color drained from her face. Her hand to her mouth and her eyes wide, she sat down—hard.

  “What is it, Lucy?” Barbara Jo asked.

  “Oh, gracious Good One!” she exclaimed.

  “What, Lucy? What is it? What happened?” Adele asked.

  Lucy dropped the bag, jumped to her feet, and then ran from the room. She had to get word to her. She had to inform her of the mistake.

  Oh, dear Good One! No, no, no!

  She’d known, when the twins were in The Tearless, before heading to the City of Light, that she’d likely meet her there. Concerned that the tea she needed might not be readily available in the city, and knowing she’d likely be out of the supply previously provided to her, Lucy had taken some along with her from the compound shelter.

  But it was marked wrong. I gave her the wrong thing!

  She rushed through the vestibule and up the staircase. She’d pack her things immediately, and then head back to the city. Maybe Velia could counsel her on the matter.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Every night after the guards returned Carlie to Broden’s quarters, the two of them discussed the state in which she found Mara and the twins. They sought ways to communicate with the three of them, but they didn’t want to risk Carlie’s safety by having her carry a written missive. Should she attempt to do so and get caught, Broden, also, would be in added danger. In the end, it was a risk they were unwilling to take.

  “Maybe Mara can just read your thoughts,” Broden suggested. “Or maybe she already has.”

  Carlie shook her head. “I don’t believe so. I do recall that mind reading was a power that simply came over Mara from time to time. To the best of my recollection, she didn’t ‘exercise’ it so much as she ‘experienced’ it.”

  “I see.”

  “You know, Broden, as I said before, there’s something odd about the place. Her magic must not work in there.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, why else would she stay there? Why wouldn’t she just travel out of there, magically? And because she should be able to pick any lock by moving its internal parts, but she hasn’t. Besides, as I told you, her blade is jammed in the lock, yet she hasn’t retrieved it—with her magic, I mean. She couldn’t get it any other way since she can’t reach it.”

  He paced, pondering.

  Just then, the door opened and Striver entered. “Any changes?” he asked.

  “None,” Carlie said. Then she turned Broden’s way again. “Whatever else, though, we have to get them some decent food on a regular basis. What the guards leave for them there is completely inedible.”

  The door of the women’s room opened. Yasmin, Farida, Ghazala, and Clementine, entered.

  “Like I told you before, I brought them food,” Yasmin said, “the day they released me from further service there.”

  Broden’s eyes shifted to her. “You’re lucky you didn’t get caught,” he said. Then he frowned. “Listen, I don’t want any of you getting mixed up in this. You should go now.”

  “No,” Yasmin said. “Now, Mouse,” she said turning to Carlie, “there is a way to get food to them. Pack it in a cloth, tie it up, and then put it under your clothing. You don’t want to have to slip it off over your head, because the guards would notice that. You want to be able to untie it from around your neck.” She paused, watching Carlie’s reaction. “They check your pockets before they take you there each day, but if you carry food in there the way I said, they won’t know.”

  Carlie shook her head. “Broden’s right, Yasmin. You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

  She glared at each of them in turn. “You’re not serious. Right? I mean, if I was in there, I’d sure want you to take the chance of bringing me something edible. Now, I don’t know what those women all mean to you, but if you don’t do like I’m suggesting, they could die in that prison.”

  His eyes closed, Broden bit his lip. Then he looked back at her. “You’re right.”

  He headed to the table and looked over the assortment of bread and dried fruits and nuts.

  Yasmin met him at his side. “Mouse will have to be able to drop the things into the cells without being seen. Here—”

  She picked up a nearby cloth. Wi
th her teeth, she made a tear in it. Holding it at each side of the cut, she ripped it in half. Then she tore each of those halves into two more pieces.

  “Wrap some food up into each of these,” she said as she dumped some biscuits onto one cloth, and some nuts onto another. Once done, she tied them up.

  “You can drop these packages into the cells,” she said as she turned to Carlie. Then, “You know the woman who’s chained?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll have to be sure to throw hers in sufficiently far for her to reach.”

  Broden helped Yasmin finish filling, and then tying up, the other cloths. Then he handed them to Carlie.

  “And what of water?” she asked.

  “The guards never questioned my canteen,” Yasmin said, “although I never drank from it myself. Tomorrow, carry two, so you can leave one in each cell. Then just take the empty ones back out when you leave for the day.”

  Nodding, Carlie clenched her jaw. She was grateful for Yasmin’s idea—and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel completely powerless.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Mara kept a vigilant watch out for rats while the twins cuddled beneath Rowena’s shawl, the magic of which forbade the creatures from reaching them.

  For some time, they all sat silently.

  “Thank Ehyeh for Carlie,” Eden finally said. “I needed something decent to eat and drink.”

  “Yes,” Reigna agreed.

  Mara?” Eden called out. “Did she bring food and water to you, as well?”

  She sat up straighter. “Yes.”

  “Any luck with the locks yet?”

  She sighed. “Still none.”

  “Hmmm. You know, if you can’t free yourself, there’s no getting out of here for any of us.”

  “I’ve told you two. If you ever get the chance, cover with that shawl and make your exit.”

  “Not without you,” Reigna said.

  Her sister moved the shawl away from her shoulders and stood. Her boots clicked on the floor as she stepped to the bars.

  “Mara?”

  “You sound troubled, Eden. Are you well?”