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Hi my name is Nae and I’m back on my bullshit, so I’m in with one tarot please!
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Mar 26, 2024 15:42
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| # ¿ May 14, 2024 14:28 |
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Crystal Garden Guardians: Queens of Pentacles 1977 words Flash: Queen of Pentacles or Shields or What Have You Jorge knew it was possible to hike to Silver Lake without getting hurt, if you tiptoed over the malachite vines and watched your fingers near the quartz leaves, but no one warned him about rolling an ankle on a regular rock. He caught one and went down with a squawk of “Why?” And wasn’t that a good question? Why had he stepped on a stupid rock? Why had he agreed to run errands for someone else? And why had he done it for such low pay? Elena dropped to his side. “Are you okay?” She sure sounded concerned, but Jorge knew what those pressed lips really meant: she was trying not to laugh. “You think it’s funny when I get hurt, don’t you?” “Of course not.” “I think it’s funny,” said Rini. She hadn’t squatted down to check on him; she was all too happy to tower over him for once, a five-foot-none menace who could only block out the sun when she had perspective on her side. As soon as he stood up, he was going to grab her door-knocker braids and rip them out. But she could keep her daisy barrette. He’d paid enough for the drat thing, so she might as well wear it. “You’re a terrible niece, you know that?” He pushed himself upright and wiggled his ankle. It didn’t feel great, but everything seemed to be working. “It’s broken. Let’s go home.” “It’s not broken.” Elena brushed her golden bangs off her eyes, dismissing them as easily as she dismissed Jorge’s suffering. “We’re almost there, so walk slowly and you’ll survive.” He had a lot to say to that, mostly about how they couldn’t afford another funeral, but twenty-five years around the sun had taught him that sometimes it was better to shut up. Funerals were tough conversation with Rini around, and tough conversations slowed down tedious jobs. Better to move fast, get the mint crystals to the community garden, and go home to their empty fridge. At least they’d be able to afford a bottle of ketchup once the garden’s caretaker paid them. Ketchup wasn’t much of a breakfast, but Rini never complained. He was starting to think she preferred it straight. Metal blossoms dangled overhead, clinking melodically as the trio trudged up the glittering mountain. It wasn’t such a bad walk, honestly: it was hot, but Jorge hadn’t had to fend off any animals, and the only thing he’d needed his wind rifle for was to blast aside some vines. Rini jumped in front of him, nearly knocking him down again. “Ooh! A rhinoprase beetle!” “You tripped me for a beetle?” he snapped. “Look how pretty they are!” Elena maneuvered around Jorge for a better look, ignoring his indignant scowl. There was no way he’d get them moving now unless he indulged them. With a tortured sigh, Jorge leaned in to see the beetle for himself. Its slick, black horn had a wicked curve that caught the light at every angle, and its massive shell sparkled like tropical water. “That’s the color of the leaves we’re looking for, right?” he said. Elena shook her head. “Not quite. This is green-blue; the leaves are blue-green.” The difference eluded Jorge, but he trusted her when it came to colors. She’d once given him an hour lecture about the exact pink of her crystal staff, and he wasn’t eager for an encore. “Can we sell it?” “I bet I could make a neat hairpin with the shell.” Rini prodded the bug with a fingertip. It jerked back with its blade. She jumped back, teeth clenched. “And I bet I could get pop it off easy once I kill it!” Elena rested a hand on Rini’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t kill if we don’t have to—and it’s not worth very much money, anyway.” “So you’re saying they don’t do anything.” Jorge blew through his lips. On the rare occasion he could buy nice things, he bought things that worked. Elena’s staff helped her focus her senses; his rifle shot air that blasted opponents aside. Rini’s barrette served a purpose, too: it dulled the memories of watching her parents drown. As long as she kept that in her hair, she could make it through the day without breaking down. That was priceless; shells were not. “Let’s go. It’s too hot for beetle hunting,” said Jorge. “No, it’s not,” Rini replied, but the sweat on her neck said otherwise. “It’s okay,” said Elena. “When rhinoprase beetles die, their shells fall off, so I’ll look for spares on the way back. Then we’ll have mint to keep us cool.” “How much farther is it?” said Jorge. Elena closed her eyes and breathed. The rose crystal atop her staff glowed like the dawn sun as she focused the senses she’d once honed working as a caretaker in the city's garden. “Not far at all.” Finally, some good news. Those mint leaves could cool the air enough to turn the community garden into a public oasis. Alternately, Jorge could put them in their house and get a good night’s sleep, which was hard enough with Elena and Rini stomping around. With the help of her staff, Elena led them to a cave on the edge of Silver Lake. A subtle breeze twirled around the entrance, promising a welcome reprieve from the heat. “Remember, we’re not taking any more than we need. Cuprian mint isn’t like the organic kind; it takes a long time to grow, and there’s not much to go around.” “All the more reason to sell it,” he began, but then the cavern air carried a sound that stopped him cold. “Someone’s in there.” Some-ones, by the sound of it: two males and a female, as far as he could tell. Maybe more. The best move would be to scope out the situation before— “I’m going in!” Rini said, and she bolted into the darkness. He exchanged a tired glance with Elena, who shrugged and smiled, and they ran after her. The cave’s entrance didn’t look like much, but the domed interior dwarfed the biggest ballrooms in the city. A lake of turquoise water cast moving reflections on the walls, creating the illusion that they were in a massive bubble. The glowing bundles of leaves at the water’s edge added to the effect; the black-clad trio crouching over them destroyed it. “We can smash the stems if we kick ‘em, right?” said the first guy, a heavy-set man in a vest. The second guy, a skinny kid with a buzz cut, yanked some leaves by the fistful. “We can break the roots if we twist!” The woman kneeling between them knocked them on their heads. “Morons, we’ll lose money if the goods are broken! You have to dig them up whole.” “Do that and there won’t be enough to go around.” Jorge cocked his rifle. “Now put your hands up and step away from the mint.” To the trio’s credit, they did as they were told. They were a scrappy-looking bunch, with worn boots and dirty faces, but the woman had sharp eyes and the little one’s twitching made Jorge uneasy. As for the big guy, he was just big. The woman offered an amiable smile. “I’m sure we can come to an understanding. Why not dig up this junk together and split it?” “It won’t grow back if we take it all,” said Elena. “We need to leave some for other harvests.” “What are you, a caretaker?” “I used to be.” The woman rolled her eyes. Then her gaze landed on Elena’s staff and she licked her teeth. “That’s a nice gem there, isn’t it, boys?” “Nice gun, too,” the little one said, considering Jorge’s rifle. “Take their stuff and I’ll take your teeth,” said Rini. “Is that a challenge?” the woman said. Rini balled up her fists. “Try me.” The woman drew a knife from her belt. As the little guy followed suit, the big one put up his hammy hands. Jorge readied his gun with a sigh. “This is so stupid,” he muttered, then glanced at Elena. “You ready?” She raised her staff; her crystal glowed. “Ready!” Jorge’s world came into focus. With Elena’s help, his senses sharpened to an uncanny degree, and he could shoot with alarming speed. It wouldn’t save him from a stronger opponent, but it made cave robbers easy prey. As Rini ran to take on the big guy herself, Jorge sized up his oncoming opponents. The woman had the lead, and she’d be on him first, but her twitchy friend was trying to loop around outside peripheral vision. That put him too close to Elena for comfort. Jorge fired at the little guy’s boots. Wind flew from the rifle and bounced off the floor, launching his target into the air. He flew in a wild arc and landed rear end-first in the water. Jorge pivoted to the woman just in time to blast himself back, avoiding a slash from her knife. The space gave him a great view of Rini dancing around the big guy as she drove a flurry of jabs into his liver. He could barely stand, but his greedy fingers were still in the air, and he had his sights on her barrette. Heat flared behind Jorge’s eyes. He shifted his rifle to Rini’s opponent and blasted him with a shot to the head. It cleared tiny Rini and caught him dead in the forehead. He crumpled into Rini’s arms, unconscious. “Jorge, look out!” Elena cried. A blade flashed overhead, its wielder attacking from above. With no space to maneuver his rifle and no chance of dodging to the side, Jorge threw himself to the ground and fired upward. The blast took the woman in the chest. It tossed her like a dirt-clod, hurling her towards the cave wall. If her skull hit stone, it would kill her instantly: a high price for a lowly crime. Jorge fired at the wall behind her. Air ricocheted off the rock and hit her in the back, stopping her momentum. She dropped to her knees and fell forward. “I’m gonna be sick…” she groaned. “Consider yourself lucky,” he replied. Rini bounded up to him, a purse dangling from her palm. “I got his wallet!” “Good. Get hers, too.” He pointed at the groaning woman on the ground. “Elena, you cut the mint—and make sure to leave enough for regrowth.” — Butterflies danced on the cool air floating above the community garden. As children played in the mint patch, elderly couples held hands on the wooden benches and basked in the soothing cold. The garden’s kindly caretaker clasped her hands together beneath her robes. “You did a good thing, Jorge. And you didn’t even charge.” “We made enough money on the road.” They hadn’t, actually; the three robbers had less in their wallets than it took to buy a sandwich, though Rini did get enough for some ketchup. “But you should give us a free dinner as a thank-you.” “Done.” As he searched for something else to say, he caught sight of Elena and Rini sitting beside the mint patch. Elena had something shiny and green in her hands: a gift she’d found on the journey home. Jorge couldn’t hear them, but he didn’t need words to understand when Rini slid her barrette out and stuck the green gift in its place, then rested her head on Elena’s shoulder. “Elena always was a wonderful caretaker.” The robed woman smiled at him. “But I think she’s happier with you two.” “You think?” said Jorge. “I know. And I know you’re happier, too.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his head. They could barely afford food and their house was hotter than an oven, but it was still a good place to live. A garden to grow in; a place to call home.
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Apr 1, 2024 06:49
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