The killing of Nawabs, vats of blood, Animation oil. She couldn’t connect the dots.

         Rizla turned so quickly that Elymas didn’t have time to get out of her way. They bumped together briefly, both startled. 

         “What are you about?” she asked, holding the precious oil.

         He turned his tongue over in his mouth as though he had a mouthful of dry oats. When he didn’t answer, she jabbed him in the ribs.

         “I, uh,” he began, then stopped. He didn’t know what to call her. “High One” belonged to the Curse-Blessed, and she’d laugh if he called her Mi’Lady. Madame Rizla implied more than he meant. They weren’t on equal footing so he couldn’t call her Rizla. His head was spinning and his heart was sick, for he knew she was going to destroy what he so desperately wanted to create.

         “I’m waiting,” she said.

         He decided to call her nothing and delved into the explanation instead.

         “An experiment at this point, though I’ve met with some success. Truly, I’m embarrassed that you’ve caught me dabbling in, well, something so beneath your notice.  Wouldn’t you rather see my other potions? They’re in a locked cabinet, very close by.” 

         “Do not dissemble with me, Elymas. I’ve threatened death all night, but now it stands close by. This,” she picked up the bottle of very precious oil and gave it a shake, “and those vats of dead blood. What is the meaning?”

         “But the blood isn’t dead, or won’t be once I add the Animation. I’ve been watering the trees with revived blood. And they’re growing!”

         “Trees?” 

         Rizla felt a stillness pervade her body as a premonition came. This was bad, and it was only going to get worse the more she threatened.  Like most cowards, Elymas lied when he got scared. She threw off her anger like a cloak, deciding to humor his madness.

         “Trees?” 

         Elymas heard the uncertainty in her voice and took the bait. “ My good woman, if you’ll allow me?”  He took Rizla by the elbow and led her behind a wooden partition. There stood another table which held four trees. Rizla blinked. She recognized the trees as ash, or rather black ash, but the bark was clearly diseased. Before she could speak, the Earth Skyll interrupted. “I gathered these from the base of the Tree of Life.” 

© Joan Heck Spilman. All rights reserved.