Christina Pirkle's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Christina stood at her workspace with the full bottle safe. The green fluid still soaked her clothes and skin. Her arms burned cold under it. The venom that had hidden her from the creature now crawled deeper. She had no cloth, no water, nothing to scrub it off. Her hands shook when she tried to wipe her sleeves. The numbness had reached her elbows. She scanned the platform. A wooden chest sat near the stone stand. She had not noticed it before. The white-haired woman must have left it. Its lines were smooth and plain, the wood pale. A metal clasp held the lid shut. Christina fumbled the clasp with dead fingers. It took three tries. The lid lifted. Inside lay folded dry cloths and a small jar of clear oil. She did not know what the oil was, but the cloths were dry, and dry was what she needed most. She grabbed a cloth and scrubbed her forearms hard. Green fluid smeared onto the cloth and lifted from her skin. She wiped again, faster. Cold gave way to a raw sting. The sting meant feeling. Feeling meant the venom was coming off. A soft sound came from the chest's shadow. A creature crept out beside it. It was small, blue and cream, with a long tail and gentle eyes. It watched her without fear. It was not the striped hunter. This one moved slow and calm. It nosed the jar of oil, then looked at her. Christina understood. She poured the oil onto a fresh cloth and rubbed it over her arms and chest. The oil cut the green fluid where the dry cloth could not. It loosened the venom from her pores and carried it off. She scrubbed her neck, her hands, every place the flowers had touched. The calm creature sat and watched, still as the chest itself. When she finished, her skin was raw and red but clean. The deep cold pulled back from her elbows. She flexed her fingers. They moved. Slow, but they moved. The external poison was off her before it could kill her. But the fluid she had scrubbed away was gone. The green mask that hid her scent was gone with it. Christina held still and listened. Somewhere in the deeper blooms, the striped creature fed. She smelled like herself again now. If it came around the passage, it would find her. She looked at her flask and the full bottle. She had her poison. She had her workspace. She had her hands back. To brew the antidote she needed to stay here, unhidden, while the hunter roamed close. The small blue creature curled against the chest and closed its eyes, calm as ever. Christina wished she felt the same. She picked up the flask and began to work, one ear turned toward the passage.