My writing room is a lovely airy space. It’s also north facing, which is great, except it gets essentially no direct sunlight. Which is why I’m sitting here at 11am shivering in the dark. Okay, that’s entirely self-inflicted: my lights work fine and I both have, and can afford to use, central heating. I’m far luckier than many folks out there, so I’m not complaining. I resent having to run lights in the daytime and heat in what’s still (kind of) summer.
Moaning aside, when I was picking an image this one jumped out at me. I took it in the poison garden at Alnwick Gardens back in June. Just looking at it makes me feel a little warmer. Both the larger gardens themselves are always a treat when we’re down that neck of the woods. Yes, I did write poison garden a moment ago. One area of the gardens is behind a high fence, accessed via a single gate, and only on guided tours. They take you through the various deadly plants that grow in the UK and beyond, and talk about various historical cases where they’ve featured. It’s a particular favourite of my family, ‘cos we’re odd like that.
Anyway, on to a story…
Out of politeness, Cauldron hid in the deepest shadows as he considered his next forage. Being a metre-tall jumping-spider, Cauldron was used to the sight of him making people uneasy. That’s how he’d always describe it, which was generous given the usual reaction was somewhere between hysterical screaming and yells of “kill it with fire!”. He knew their fear wasn’t their fault any more than it was his fault he was an enormous spider and tried not to hold it against them.
Normally, Cauldron would make his supply runs at night. Hiding was easier in the dark and low light presented little challenge to his excellent vision. Not terrifying the locals was vital. In his long life he’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to abandon a home after accidentally sparking a monster hunt. Never mind how much he’d hate to leave his new home at the Tower of Sorcery, he couldn’t risk drawing undue attention to them either. Their work was too important to disrupt.
It was that importance that was driving him to this audacious daylight harvest. In a public place no less. He’d have only a few moments between each tour group. Time enough to slip out and gather what he needed. Four plants. Four chances to be seen. No more, despite the temptations of the treasure trove offered by the poison garden.
Not that Cauldron was into poisons. No more than any other substance necessary for his potion-craft. Toxic substances needed to be handled with extreme care, which was inconvenient. The idea of using his beloved potions to cause harm horrified him. He had a better use for the deadly plants carefully gathered into this garden. Each one used carelessly or with malice brought death, but by Cauldron’s skill, and by his magic, he could turn them into powerful cures that were sorely needed at the Tower.
“Hey, Cauldron.” Elias’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. Only the old spider’s long years hunting and foraging kept him from leaping away in fright. “Which one’s can I get?”
“None,” whispered Cauldron. “Keep quiet or they’ll find us.”
“Relax,” said Elias. He stepped out in front of the tour group as they passed their hiding place among the poison-ivy and waved both his bright imp-blue arms past the tour guide’s face. “I’ve glamoured us. They’ll never notice a thing.”
“Fine,” said Cauldron. “Just be careful.”
He stepped out toward the stately laburnum tree with its dangling strands of yellow death. He held back a fearful shudder as one of the tourists turned to face him. The man raised his phone and snapped a photo of the tree from underneath its hanging branches.
“Sir, can I ask you to move back, please,” said the guide in a tone of bored frustration. “I know you’re extra tough and all, but one touch of that one could ruin your day. Mine too for that matter.”
None of the humans seemed to notice Cauldron at all. Elias’s glamour was working, as it always did. He didn’t mean to distrust the boy, who he loved dearly but old habits were hard to give up. Especially the ones that had kept him alive for the last eighty years.
“So?” said Elias. “Which ones?”
“None,” replied Cauldron. “I’ll get them. These are deadly poisons.”
“Spoilsport.”
Cauldron shrugged a spider’s version of a sigh. “Have you got your gloves?”
Elias rolled his eyes. “Obviously,” he said as he pulled on a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves.
“You get the Adder-tongue and the wolfsbane, then. I’ll get the rest,” said Cauldron. “And be careful.”
Cauldron turned his attention back to the laburnum. He spun a line of silk and with quick practiced movements formed a sack which he flung into the branches. Harvesting a small crop of flowers and leaves was the work of a few seconds. He bundled it up for transport with his hindmost legs as he turned toward the back of the poison garden.
The sight that met him froze his heart. Elias’s left glove tore on an exposed thorn as he reached into the wolfsbane to grab a handful. A little brushed the boy’s skin. That was all it took. Elias collapsed onto the ground shaking violently.
Cauldron jumped, arriving at Elias’s side in two spidery leaps. Antidote for wolfsbane was not a difficult potion to brew. In his lab. In the middle of a public place was another matter. Through the rising panic the old spider desperately tried to think what he could do. Take the boy and run for help. Not great but it was the best he had. He spun more silk to tie Elias to his back. They’d get away quickest that way. Elias’s shuddering twitches slowed down. Not a good sign. As Cauldron went to grab him the little blue imp suddenly vanished.
Laughter from behind. Cauldron turned. Fear faded into the kind of anger that only comes from love.
“The look on your face!” Elias cackled.
Cauldron fought for calmness. Slowly he said, “what look does my face have now?”
Elias settled as he took a good look at his potions teacher. “Yeah, sorry, Cauldron. That wasn’t really funny, was it?” He broke down into giggles again, but had the manners to try to stifle them.
Cauldron shrugged another sigh. “Come on, let’s get the hellebore and get out of here.”
Brandon Lim 