She was astonishing.
Even though her hair was green.
It wasn't as hideous as the examples of green hair I have come across in
real life. It wasn't like dyed green
hair - all garishly bright with a dried out and unnatural look. It was perfectly natural, matching her
eyebrows, and a very dark green, like a Christmas tree. And it was long and plaited into several
ponytails evenly spaced about her head and made perfectly. Close to the top of these and
circumnavigating her head was a crown made up of miniature versions of the
flowers or fruits or leaves (or maybe all three) from every plant in the
forest.
Her face was the sort that makes you want to kiss it. Her eyes were like a flower that has sucked
up ink and is fringed and dotted around its edges with a second colour. In her case a pale green surrounded by a
light brown. She wore a dress that
seemed to both mask and complement her slender figure. In style, I guess it was Ancient Athenian. Certainly it reminded me of being a teenager
and dreaming of Kirsten Dunst in A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Her skin was a smooth enigma. Neither dark nor light, possibly even dirty
or leaf- or bark-like.
It was only afterwards that I was able to take all of this
in. My time with her zipped by far too
quickly. And that first glance was only
allowed to last the briefest of moments.
No sooner had I set my eyes upon her than she had set me to work.
"You have to move fast.
Take the pestle and mortar at my feet and crush this in it." She took a tiny pine cone from her crown
without looking at it in any way and dropped it into the lacquered wood
mortar. It grew larger as it fell,
reaching full size as it hit the bottom.
"And mix your blood in it."
A simple knife with an ornate handle was lying next to the mortar. Whether it had been there all the time or
appeared out of thin air, I could not tell you.
"Then stir in these flowers.
And do it quickly before her hooves melt away, please. Human hands must undo human inflicted
wounds."
I started to reduce the pine cone to dust instantly, seizing
upon the pestle in the right hand and turning it as I pressed down. Repeating the action again and again,
quickly, simply and without much thought.
After only ten seconds she told me that would be adequate. With her watching over me, a woman of such
beauty and presence, you would do anything for her and with the screams of pain
that were still coming from behind me and causing a pain deep within me that drove
me onward, the next part was surprisingly easy.
I took the knife in hand and cut a deep gash in the palm of
my left palm before putting the blade down and squeezing my hand into a fist to
let the blood run out of the bottom, digging my nails into the wound to keep
the flow going.
When she told me to stop I picked up the flowers, there were
four of them altogether, all of a type I didn't recognise, and stirred them
into what I already had. Once instructed
for the final time to stop I was informed what was to be done with this remedy
for my work.
"Dip your hands in, this will heal your wound also,
wipe the mixture over her hooves, using a flower for each one." I hesitated for a second suddenly a little
overwhelmed by the whole scene. "NOW!" she roared and I was back in
the scene and working automatically.
And I did as she bid me, quickly but carefully, taking the
gloop so as not to spill a drop. I set
it down next to her right front foot and began the task.
The first problem was the smoke rising and getting in my
eyes, burning them. I quickly reasoned
that the blood would help. I bathed my
hands swiftly; healing the wound I had made and coated my eyes. This blinded me in reality but also helped me
see. In my mind’s eye I could survey the
whole scene as if clouded in a thin red gel.
I set straight to work.
To begin with I was worried about my hands getting burned. I should have realised of course that this
would not be the case. Just as the cut
across my palm had healed as I took the first flower, and helped me to see, so
the medicine protected my hands against the heat of the unicorn's hooves. Hence she had told me to cover my hands.
I smeared the red knobbly mixture on feeling the writhing of
the hooves as they bubbled under the flower.
This soon stopped once a decent covering had been applied and then the
foot became free, visibly healed and as good as knew. The glue had instead been reduced and all
that was left was a pool of tepid water.
Before long all four of her hooves were free of their
incarceration in hell. She snorted in my
face, covering it in a film of snot and moved with venom, more like a wild cat
on the prowl than herself, and took up a position behind the Lady of the Woods. "You are lucky," the Lady said,
"I personally would have given you a bloody nose at the very least."
I wiped the mess from my face and blood from my eyes and
stayed on my knees, cleaning it all from my hands by wiping them on my
trousers. I didn't dare do it on the
grass in the presence of the Lady of the Woods.
I thanked her and she began to talk again. But in a different tone. She had been stern and businesslike before,
now she was calm and kindly.
No comments:
Post a Comment