The Safety Pin Cafe was open every day and served a consistent simple menu: cinnamon toast with as much butter as you fancied, herbal teas with a preference for peppermint, and apple pie. The bread and the pie were baked daily, or more often depending upon the needs on any particular day. Almond and goat's milk whitened teas or were simply poured into shallow bowls for the kitties who loved being served without reservation.
The town had grown, and shrunk with time but through it all the quality of The Pin's common magic was its most valuable offering. Some knew to come for it; most found it on days ducks loved, and today was just that sort of day. The squall came suddenly and with great gusto. The window to the smallest of the three rooms upstairs was left open. First one and then the other Raven tucked their beaks and head through and landed softly on the backs of two wooden chairs.
"Your timing couldn't be more perfect," Dumpling pulled the window shut, well nearly. Even with the pouring rain a sliver of opening called for the fresh air. Let us breathe said the walls. They were used to the feel of Saratoga Pass against their enduring coat of pale lavender milk paint.
The siblings shifted slowly from feather to flesh in no hurry to move from the betweens. Leaving them to make their adjustments, Dumpling opened the bedroom door, quietly shut it behind her and crossed the hallway to the largest of the three rooms. She said, "They're back Stan. I'm going downstairs for a tray. How is she?" Dumpling looked from her man to the girl who still slept with the faded denim patchworked skirt wrapped like bunting. Her arms were freed of cover. Pillows surrounded her for reassurance. "She hasn't moved an inch. But her breathing is deep and regular."
"I think it's time to get Maha," next to Pale the Apple Tree Gardner aka Gypsy Woman was Aunty Everything to Aka and Skeena. "The boy will need to plant some of the ..." Dumpling struggled for the word.
Stan offered, 'bile.' "Her son is churning from anger and Maha can help with that. Slowly but surely she will offer the next best steps." Stan sat close to the bed, alternating between a gentle stroke across the young woman's broad forehead and squeezes applied meaningfully from her shoulder to the ends of her fingertips. First one shoulder, then the other. While Dumpling pursued tea and made a call the bass playing botanist's attention was caught by the activity of Lanalana, a spider. She was cleaning house.
The winds were cluttering her web with Hemlock needles. Built under the generous eaves Lanalana might be able weather the squall. Unaware until today of the diligent care involved in web maintenance Stan watched as all eight legs dislodged the offending needle. A piece of Nature that could not feed her was not allowed to simply litter. "Nature's Efficacy," he whispered, still working the muscles of Shine's arms. The musician never ceased in his amazement for the order of All. Food/Not Food. Live. Die.
A thump across the hallway. One of the chairs fell against the wall. Skeena retained his Raven, the chair he'd landed on jarred the wall beneath the window. He wanted out. "Wait, please wait," Aka knew never to interfere with the trajectory of a Beings choice. The St. Joan's Wort had worn off and she had nothing more. Their mother's presence was still fresh in this room. She felt it, and of course, Skeena felt it. "Where will you go? The ones who love you most are right here, or on their way here. If you leave now the mending will take longer, the songs will gape, the wound will fester."
In his human form Skeena would have no trouble with the window, and even as Raven, the window ought not to have been an obstacle. That it was was sign enough the Magician was tangled and his energy? The Raven with the silver-band of feathers rapped hard against the open window. From her side Lanalana considered the sharp sound piercing the windblown storm gathering force. Rap Rapraprap. The Hemlock sent no more needles, but the irritation of sounds became a drum beat. Lanalana used the sound to call the Others.
Through the open window one, two, three and then a dozen, two dozen and more came on their eight legs. Rap Rapraprap. The Raven caused the drumming. The spiders came. The spiders came. The spiders came and began to weave their nets in seemingly delicate, yet formidable silk threads. Rap Rapraprap. Rap. Rap. Rap. And then it was quite.
The town had grown, and shrunk with time but through it all the quality of The Pin's common magic was its most valuable offering. Some knew to come for it; most found it on days ducks loved, and today was just that sort of day. The squall came suddenly and with great gusto. The window to the smallest of the three rooms upstairs was left open. First one and then the other Raven tucked their beaks and head through and landed softly on the backs of two wooden chairs.
"Your timing couldn't be more perfect," Dumpling pulled the window shut, well nearly. Even with the pouring rain a sliver of opening called for the fresh air. Let us breathe said the walls. They were used to the feel of Saratoga Pass against their enduring coat of pale lavender milk paint.
The siblings shifted slowly from feather to flesh in no hurry to move from the betweens. Leaving them to make their adjustments, Dumpling opened the bedroom door, quietly shut it behind her and crossed the hallway to the largest of the three rooms. She said, "They're back Stan. I'm going downstairs for a tray. How is she?" Dumpling looked from her man to the girl who still slept with the faded denim patchworked skirt wrapped like bunting. Her arms were freed of cover. Pillows surrounded her for reassurance. "She hasn't moved an inch. But her breathing is deep and regular."
"I think it's time to get Maha," next to Pale the Apple Tree Gardner aka Gypsy Woman was Aunty Everything to Aka and Skeena. "The boy will need to plant some of the ..." Dumpling struggled for the word.
Stan offered, 'bile.' "Her son is churning from anger and Maha can help with that. Slowly but surely she will offer the next best steps." Stan sat close to the bed, alternating between a gentle stroke across the young woman's broad forehead and squeezes applied meaningfully from her shoulder to the ends of her fingertips. First one shoulder, then the other. While Dumpling pursued tea and made a call the bass playing botanist's attention was caught by the activity of Lanalana, a spider. She was cleaning house.
The winds were cluttering her web with Hemlock needles. Built under the generous eaves Lanalana might be able weather the squall. Unaware until today of the diligent care involved in web maintenance Stan watched as all eight legs dislodged the offending needle. A piece of Nature that could not feed her was not allowed to simply litter. "Nature's Efficacy," he whispered, still working the muscles of Shine's arms. The musician never ceased in his amazement for the order of All. Food/Not Food. Live. Die.
A thump across the hallway. One of the chairs fell against the wall. Skeena retained his Raven, the chair he'd landed on jarred the wall beneath the window. He wanted out. "Wait, please wait," Aka knew never to interfere with the trajectory of a Beings choice. The St. Joan's Wort had worn off and she had nothing more. Their mother's presence was still fresh in this room. She felt it, and of course, Skeena felt it. "Where will you go? The ones who love you most are right here, or on their way here. If you leave now the mending will take longer, the songs will gape, the wound will fester."
In his human form Skeena would have no trouble with the window, and even as Raven, the window ought not to have been an obstacle. That it was was sign enough the Magician was tangled and his energy? The Raven with the silver-band of feathers rapped hard against the open window. From her side Lanalana considered the sharp sound piercing the windblown storm gathering force. Rap Rapraprap. The Hemlock sent no more needles, but the irritation of sounds became a drum beat. Lanalana used the sound to call the Others.
Through the open window one, two, three and then a dozen, two dozen and more came on their eight legs. Rap Rapraprap. The Raven caused the drumming. The spiders came. The spiders came. The spiders came and began to weave their nets in seemingly delicate, yet formidable silk threads. Rap Rapraprap. Rap. Rap. Rap. And then it was quite.
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