March

Issue 30

    “Lilies,” Brierly had said with a wistful smile, so Tiann went out for lilies. She jogged home in the warm spring sunshine instead of porting, and saw by chance the old woman standing in the path.
    She was old and shriveled as a pale, rotting apple.  Tiann had never seen anyone so old. She hesitated in front of her, torn between curiosity and common sense.  Finally, she smiled and gave a polite nod.  “Hello, Mother.  Do you need any help?”
    The old woman fixed Tiann in a stare the pale, cold blue of the sky in winter.  Tiann shivered despite the sun.  “Yes,” the old woman said.  “You can help me.  I have something for you.”
    “For me?”
    The old woman held up a gold medallion on a chain, upon which was engraved some sort of serpent with wings and claws and the head of a rooster, complete with cockscomb.  A small blood red gem formed the serpent’s eye.
    “What is that?”
    “The cockatrice,” the old woman whispered reverently.  “Take it.”