Chapter Eleven
Hyacinth
Hyacinth sat on the blanket beside Austin while Melody and Smith regaled the entire family with their findings.
She truly tried to pay attention, but there were so many words she didn’t know like ferris wheel, and whack-a-mole, that she stopped asking.
She was only getting in the way of Melody telling Dahlia and Sebastian about the ‘murder spree’ at the carnival grounds.
Apparently, there was blood everywhere and no bodies.
That felt important and she really didn’t want to ask Melody to explain why it mattered that the blood smelled rotten, or to explain what ‘Aravis being Aravis’ meant.
What she did know was a picnic was a meal one had on a giant blanket with family or friends.
And it was fun. Agatha brought out her knitting needles and Hyacinth watched her with fascination as she turned a ball of yarn into a long rectangle.
It was mesmerizing to listen to Sebastian read a book while Dahlia dished out food.
Hyacinth was finally on ‘soft foods’, which allowed her a handful of things that smelled wonderful and made her mouth happy to chew.
But she also had to drink an entire bowl of broth.
I’m really getting sick of broth. I crave chewing… for some reason.
The stars overhead sparkled and the moon was massive in the sky. Hyacinth kept losing interest in the story and wandered the sky with her eyes. A flash of light elicited a tiny gasp and she jumped. Hyacinth followed it across the inky black with awe.
“That’s a shooting star, make a wish,” Austin whispered in her ear.
Blink, blink. She peeked up at him. Why do stars, when they shoot across the sky, make wishes come true? But there was something on his face that made her want to try. “How do I make a wish?”
He moved closer to her face, whispering near her ear, “Close your eyes and think what you want really hard, but don’t say it out loud.”
“How will the star hear me if I don’t say it out loud?” Hyacinth whispered back.
Austin opened his mouth, then clamped it shut, then opened it again. “Actually, that’s a really good question.”
Hyacinth didn’t mean to laugh. It just sputtered out of her.
Her lips curled up involuntarily and the tinkling sound bubbled out of her chest. Austin’s eyes lit up in the night like stars.
Yellowy-red stars, but glittering nonetheless.
Why…why am I laughing? Her shoulders trembled and giggles poured out of her softly as she glanced back up to the sky. The shooting star was gone.
“I missed my chance.”
“Well…what would you have wished for?” Austin asked, shifting to catch her gaze. She gave it to him freely, the smile still high on her face.
“Oh,” she exhaled, the giggles finally dying off. “I don’t know actually. What would you wish for?”
Austin’s eyebrows shot up on his face. “Maybe wings?”
“Ah!” She raised a finger. “I’d wish to be as tall as you.”
“Preposterous!” Sebastian butted into their conversation, bringing both the undead’s attention to their maker.
He raised a gloved finger, waggling it in the air.
“No, you don’t have a system set up to be taller.
Your proportions wouldn’t sustain any more added length to your torso or legs.
You’d likely snap like a twig at the smallest blunt force if I added more than an inch to either of your femurs. ”
“See, what’d I say,” Austin murmured in her ear.
Hyacinth snorted suddenly. It made her eyes widen and hands fly to her mouth.
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed on them suspiciously.
Hyacinth tried to sober the laughter, but she only sputtered more as she replayed Austin’s earlier comment.
Then her face was far too warm, and she was far too itchy in her skin when she replayed his other comment. You’re perfect.
It struck her hard. Like a slap to the face, but why did that also unleash a thousand butterflies into the cavity of her chest?
“What are you two cavorting about over there?” Smith teased, arms crossed over his chest.
“That’s not a real word,” Austin accused.
Smith guffawed, “Yes it is! Look it up!”
“Uh-huh, likely story.” Austin scowled at the slender across from them on the blanket. Hyacinth beamed, eyes darting between person to person as Austin lobbed a chunk of bread at the suit wearing, faceless man. A maw of shark’s teeth opened up and swallowed it down.
“It is a word,” Greggory spoke after a hard swallow of his chicken salad sandwich. The little blue man with massive eyes flashed Hyacinth a knowing smile before dabbing his mouth with his napkin.
“Ah HA!” Smith roared, jabbing a finger at Greggory.
“Et tu, Greggorus,” Austin huffed, climbing to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Hyacinth clumsily climbed to her tangled feet.
He waited and picked up one of the apples out of the picnic basket.
Austin rubbed it against his shirt before splitting it in half with his thumbs.
The juice of the apple oozed down his hands, and she couldn’t help following the trail of sweet juice.
She wasn’t allowed to eat the apples raw just yet.
Too firm with too much fiber. While she had roasted apples in a bowl, which was sweet and delightfully spiced…
there was a desire deep in her soul to bite into the apple.
To shove her teeth down into its flesh and feel the crunch with her mouth.
“To go look it up, aren’t you, big guy?” Smith teased. Austin stuck his tongue out between his tusks.
“I’m going to go feed the opossum by the fence.
She just gave birth to her pups, and she hasn’t had a snack recently.
” He nodded at the fence past her, beyond the darkened garden.
Hyacinth furrowed her eyebrows. Even she couldn’t see them, though the more she stared, the clearer the shifting critter became in the moonlight.
Wait. Feed an opossum? Feed an opossum!
“Oh! Oh! I want to feed an opossum!” She scrambled, grabbing one of the apples.
It weighed nothing in her hands, and she tried to press her thumbs into its flesh much like Austin.
After a moment of grunting and struggling, all she managed were crescent moon shaped nail marks in the flesh.
Hyacinth pouted as she offered the apple to Austin.
He chuckled, trading her the already split apple.
Unfortunately, she immediately went to bite into it.
“Ah-ah-no! Hyacinth!” Sebastian warned.
She stopped, scowling as she stared at her maker. With a huff, she dropped the apples from her mouth. Not biting time. Austin nudged her with his elbow and headed toward the edge of the yard. Hyacinth carried her portions, eagerly scampering after him in the tall grass.
She heard the soft huff from her maker behind her. “Where did she get this attitude?”
“Me, probably,” Dahlia snorted, despite the fact she was laid out on the blanket, eyes closed, head in Sebastian’s lap.
However, everything after that was lost to the miraculous discovery of an opossum.
A bundle of white fur, covered in tiny babies, she sniffed around the massive iron gate.
The mother stopped her search for food to stare up at the two tiptoeing toward her.
“She’s not running away?” Hyacinth murmured.
“Most of the forest critters know me.” Austin offered her a soft shrug as he crouched down beside the fence.
The mother opossum twisted toward him. Her obsidian eyes glittered up at him as he ripped off a chewable chunk and handed it through the fence.
The sound of her chewing into the juicy apple gave Hyacinth all the courage she needed to creep up beside him.
As she knelt, she worked her nails into the flesh of the apple.
She managed to pry a piece off and reached forward slowly.
The opossum finished the piece Austin gave her and immediately snatched the piece from Hyacinth.
A little squeal spilled out of her chest. The opossum froze and Hyacinth scrunched down into herself as an apology.
After a moment, their newest forest friend began to munch again on the apple chunk.
Don’t scare her. Gotta be soft and quiet.
Blink, blink. I can do that. To keep herself from vibrating out of her stitched skin, she worked on more pieces of apple.
That’s when she remembered what they were talking about prior to the greatest thing to happen to her that hour.
“But the ghouls know us inside the house, and they still run screaming from me,” Hyacinth sighed under her breath. She focused on getting a chunk big enough for the mother to eat but small enough to fit through the fence easily.
“Oh,” Austin grimaced as he snapped a slice of apple into an opossum portion easily, “that’s because Lady Rosemont holds a grudge against them.”
“What’d they do to her?” Hyacinth furrowed her brows. She finally was able to peek up at him out of curiosity. Sliding the apple through the fence, she had to keep her focus on Austin, or she’d scream out in joy at the feel of a little paw taking the apple from her.
“Hid in her closet,” Austin hummed, nodding his head softly.
“Ah, yes,” Hyacinth nodded along with him.
Blink, blink, that’s a weird reason to hold a grudge.
But she couldn’t judge. She’d not experienced anything that would make her so angry she vowed unending vengeance against someone.
Let alone little shadowy creatures that screamed then skittered away clumsily.
“You want to know a secret?” Austin whispered softly, handing over a chunk of apple.
“Yeah,” Hyacinth breathed, studying his face. His red eyes glowed in the moonlight, focused on the creature they were tending to, but she could tell he saw her. It was the way his face softened, and he ducked his head a little as he spoke further.
“I know how to get the ghouls to like you too, if you want me to show you. But you can’t tell Lady Rosemont.
She’ll only hit them with umbrellas.” His gaze flickered to her and Hyacinth felt her lungs strangely clench.
Austin nodded to her apple pieces, and she gasped softly when she realized she’d smooshed it nearly into a paste.
“Push it through the fence, if she doesn’t eat it, other creatures will.
Nothing goes to waste. We’re necromancers… ”
“Not Necromessers,” she giggled softly, pushing her softened chunks between the iron bars.
That’s right, that’s what you said the first day we met.
The mother opossum picked up the sturdier pieces before lapping up the juice of the apple off the lush grass.
Hyacinth brought her hands to her face. Pressing her tongue flat against her palm, she lapped up the sticky juices.
She froze when she found Austin watching.
He must like apples too. Happy to share, she offered him her left hand.
He stared at it for a moment before studying her face, almost as if asking for permission.
It was strange, how he didn’t have to say the words, but she understood.
I’m learning faster? Or maybe I’m just learning him?
She grinned from ear to ear, nodding before jutting her hand to him again.
Sucking her other thumb clean, she didn’t have time to say it out loud.
He cupped the back of her hand tenderly; she stopped everything to watch him swipe his tongue across her palm.
Her heart stuttered, confused if it was beating or holding still.
Her limbs softened into his touch, eager with no explanation why.
When his eyes opened, he found her an inch closer and he stiffened.
She couldn’t be sure in the dark, but she could have sworn a dark forest color prickled his cheeks as he laughed sheepishly.
His words came out in a quick rasp, “I like apples.”
“I do too.” She managed to get out of her lungs as he gave her a clean palm back.
Her throat was weirdly thick and her stomach tingled.
The muscles in her thighs were clenched and for the first time, Hyacinth was hyper aware of every inch of her body.
Her skin was hot and stung, but she couldn’t remove the curl of her lips.
“Thank you for showing me this. I think, if I could have wished for something on the star, I would rather it be an animal friend.”
“Yeah?” Austin twisted to her, eagerness illuminating his features.
“Do you think the star is still listening?” She followed the glittering lights over their heads to the large moon looming over their heads. “Or the moon? Can you make a wish on the moon?”
“I think so! I don’t know any rules against it.” Austin followed her gaze up into the sky. “I’ll make one with you.”
“What are you wishing for?” Hyacinth took one last lap of her palm as she waited for him to pick one.
“I wish for a friend.” His gaze dropped and landed on her again.
A friend? Is that what I was made for? A friend for you, Austin?
It warmed her chest as they lingered, frozen in time.
The bugs chirping deep in the woods, the subtle crunching of an opossum eating chunks of apple, and the soft murmur of conversation from the others at the picnic.
It was something she didn’t have a word for yet, but she knew it was something special.
Hyacinth giggled, throwing her arms to her side. “Wish granted.”
Austin nodded, vigorously. “Then we’ll see about granting yours too.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to meet them. Whoever they are.” She climbed to her feet, dusting her sticky palms on her dress. Then, immediately regretting it, she grimaced.
Austin chortled. “Let’s wash our hands, or else we’ll stick to everything.”
Hyacinth didn’t see the beady pair of red eyes glowing from the trees. But just beyond the fence, someone watched them as the pair walked back toward the Manor.