68 Garden Pardon (1/2)
Fresh the next morning Asbolus handed Nelda a rigid sheet of what looked like a strip of pale bark.On it was inscribed what could only be described as a spell, written freshly in dark reddish-brown ink.
”The scroll I draw this from is rather fragile.You'll forgive me if I keep it sequestered away.”
”Of course.”[You're not the first not to trust me with delicate matters.Lord knows how I got entrusted with the fate of worlds].”We have already put you to a lot of… trouble.”
The large centaur looked at her sharply.”The trouble was ever ours,” he said.”If anything we should apologize for drawing you into it.The weaver cannot resist a strong and timely thread… if it might save the cloth.”
Nelda still had a considerable headache, and asking whether Asbolus was using a metaphor or speaking about a god, that was a little further than she was inclined to stretch.
The satyrs, now including Reg, had agreed to guide Typho and Phyllis to Echidna's cave.BugleHead had entrusted Nelda with the alicorn, being more focused now on his new acquisition.
He sat at the gate, holding a surprisingly placid basilisk on his lap.It was wearing a small hood, much like a falconry hood.The satyr fed his new pet handfuls fo grain, and it seemed altogether happy with the arrangement.
”I am going to call her… huh.” BugleHead seemed stumped.
”How about Medusa?” Nelda offered.
”Who's that?”
”Oh.”
There was an echo in Nelda's memory about some other figure in myth that did not exist here… or at least not yet.[It's not like the schools I went to spent much time on the lore of antiquity.A token Shakespeare play was considered pushing it for us. SmithGuild might remember whatever it is that's niggling in my mind…]
Looking over to the gryphon-in-human-form Nelda felt her heart squeeze.He was palpably unhappy.He'd made an effort at washing his scrubs in the river and they now hung damp and wrinkled on his body.
Turning back to Asbolus, she asked, ”I don't suppose you have anything in the way fo a ritual that would put someone back in the right body?”
The centaur shook his head.”I've never heard tell of that sort of thing happening before – outside of someone wanting such a transformation so fervently that they petitioned a god for it.And I am not convinced any of those tales were true.The again”—he sighed—”I thought the basilisk was a myth, too.”
Phyllis emerged from the hall and crossed over the bridge, ready to begin her journey.Typho was following her but paused and turned.”Are you sure I should go?”