Accident

[Querylon]

Querylon came awake slowly. For the first time in months it wasn’t Boots that woke her up, but rays of sunlight dancing over her face. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again against the stab of pain. The sun was high in the sky – in the wrong part of the sky.

Memory started to trickle back. She had been out searching for some of the ingredients she’d need to make the potions for the apothecary. Querylon remembered falling. She must have been here over night. That was why the sun had first appeared to be in the wrong spot. Was she supposed to meet with her captain this morning? She gave up trying to search her memory through the steadily increasing headache.

Carefully she flexed her limbs one by one testing for injuries. She found none besides what felt like bruises and therefor should be able to stand up. She lifted her hands to her head. Her fingers encounters encountered a good-size bump. The movements required for the check had been exhausting, though. Querylon lay still to catch her breath and rest before she would attempt it.

She knew she needed to get home. Getting home meant that her potions would be available to her. Walking home was obviously not a viable option. That left teleportation as a mode of transportation. Only, for her to do so safely, she’d need to know not only where she wanted to be but also to have a good idea of where she was. She shaded her eyes with her left, braced herself against the pain, and slowly opened her eyes - so far so good.

Querylon started to sit up. But she barely moved her head before pain threatened to turn the world around her into darkness. For long minutes she fought to stay conscious. That battle won she recalled what she had seen of her surroundings in that all too brief moment her eyes had been open.

Uneven walls of earth and rocks surrounded her. At the edges, she guessed them to be roughly nine to ten feet up, she could make out what was left of the camouflage that had covered the hole she found herself in the bottom of now. A trap of some kind, quite possibly meant for a bear to judge by its size and the big stakes she had somehow managed to miss.

She really had to get home, and fast, preferably before the maker of the pit returned to check on it. Her thoughts were none too clear about why she should fear the trapper rather than trust on help from him. But she was certain there would be no help from that quarter.

The ring! Yes, the weight of the championship ring was still on her finger.

Querylon further searched her brain for details of just were she was before she fell. Eventually she was satisfied she had enough of an idea of her current location and turned her concentration toward working the required magic.

[Querylon]

A wriggle of her cute nose finished the spell. Despite her having kept her eyes closed, the spell work, the abrupt change of location, and the difference in the tug of gravity left her feeling dizzy and nauseated. Keeping her neck perfectly stiff she reached out with one hand for the kitchen counter to steady herself, while pressing her other hand to her stomach. For long moments she just stood doing nothing more than breathing.

Once the dizziness, pain and nausea ebbed away she reached toward the jars sitting on the shelf in front of her. Her fingers searched by touch for the shapes of the right containers. She winced at the sound of an upset clay jar bouncing of the counter and shattering on the tile floor. At least it wasn’t one she needed right now.

The desired jars identified and pulled from the shelf to the countertop, she blindly picked out a spoon and a knife from the right hand drawer. She would need water to swallow the powders. That presented a problem.

Though there was a bucket still half full sitting next to the pot-bellied stove, she was not at all certain she could accomplish the task of filling a glass from it. Querylon slowly opened her eyes to search the countertop for any alternative solution that might present itself. A honey jar eventually came into focus long enough for her to recognize it as such. A spoon full of that would do.

Querylon concentrated on carefully measuring the doses of powders. Her hands were none too steady and she had to start over a few times. She ignored the beads of sweat forming on her forehead and dug her teeth into her bottom lip in an effort to keep from giving into the shivers. Though it seemed to take forever, eventually she was satisfied the right number of knife tips of poisons and potion had been added to the spoon to be beneficial. She stopped up the jar she planned on taking with her to the bedroom before she took the medicine and followed it with a spoon full of honey.

The short walk from the kitchen to her bed took her last bit of strength, and she felt herself sinking into the darkness before her head hit the pillow.

[Querylon]

Vinny knocked on the door of Querylon's house, hoping to have a few words with her. He was greeted by a rather loud series of meows from behind instead of the expected female voice from the inside of the house. He turned around and almost tripped over the cat that had seemed to have come from nowhere. The only parts of the cat not shiny black were the gray bands around his legs just above his paws. Vinny crouched to pat its head.

"Hey there. You must be Boots." The cat started to purr and looked to be thoroughly enjoying the attention. "You wouldn't happen to know where Querylon is, do you?"

"Meow." Boots leaped onto the porch railing and from there up to the roof.

Vinny stood up. "Was it something I said?"

"Meow." However, Vinny could no longer see the cat.

"Meow." This time the sound came from inside the house.

Vinny opened the door and let himself in, hoping that Querylon wouldn't mind. Once inside, he had meant to announce himself, but the sight that greeted him made him rethink that. Clay shards lay scattered on the counter of the buffet cabinet and the floor among a
yellowish, powder-like substance. An unbroken jar lay overturned in a puddle of goo. The greenery in the basket on the table looked limb and gave off a foul odor.

[Querylon]

A dull thud made Vinny abandon his inspection of the mess in favor of investigating the origin of the sound. Though there was nothing that indicated that whoever had made the mess was still nearby, he didn't make the assumption that they had left. He stepped through the partially curtained off doorway into the second room of the small house.

The first thing that caught Vinny's attention was the cat pawing at a clay jar, maneuvering it away from the canopied bed and toward him.

"What do you have there?" Vinny reached for the jar and picked it off the floor. A crossed bones label adorned the empty feeling jar. He sighed and shook his head. "Can't even go out for dinner with a woman without her dying one way or another..." The cat jumped onto the bed. Vinny's eyes followed the movement.

Vinny's mind worked quickly, assessing the situation and trying to figure out what to do next. The pale faced, red haired figure lying on the bed was still fully dressed. He had seen Querylon in just such a dress of faded green on several occasions.

Boots had carefully picked a path up the side of the bed and now, sat atop the coppery curls that framed Querylon's face. The cat stuck out a paw and tapped the girl's cheek. Querylon's quiet moan spurred Vinny into action.

[Querylon]

Vinny put the jar into his pocket to deal with later and checked her head and body for injuries. Her brow was cool and he found two bumps on her head, one at the base of her skull and one on the left above her ear. From her reactions to his patting her down he concluded that shewas bruised, but it looked like nothing was broken. Her pulse was slow, but steady. He also took note of the tears and stains on her clothing. Either she had been in a hell of a fight or she took quite a tumble, he thought to himself. And, whichever it was, it must have happened at least a day, more likely two days ago.

She should be thirsty. He looked around for a glass, but wasn’t able to find one sitting around. The cat was now sitting across the room, looking up at the glass panels in the back door. Vinny recalled having seen glasses and cups in one of the kitchen shelves. But first he would open the door for the cat.

Before he had opened the door half way, Boots shot outside at a full run. Vinny shook his head; not just at the cat but also at what he saw on the back porch. Alongside the worktable against the house wall stood the most beautiful claw-footed bathtub he had ever seen. How odd of Querylon to keep such a museum piece practically out in the elements. Certainly her bedroom was big enough to house the tub as well. The overhang wouldn’t keep driving rain and snow from the antique, he thought as he walked past the tub and down the three steps toward the water pump. He would need water to clean up the mess on the kitchen floor, too. So he filled the bucket that was conveniently standing there with fresh water and carried it inside.

He picked the least chipped glass he could find from the shelf, filled it with water and sat it down. It would be another hour at least before she’d rouse enough to be able to swallow anything. He might as well satisfy his curiosity about what had been in the jar in the meantime. He pulled the jar from his pocket, sat down at the table and got to work.

“Interesting. Very interesting....” After half an hour he had identified all but two of the herbal components and all three spells she had worked into the potion. He frowned, knowing what this particular mixture of ingredients could do and just how dead she could heave been if she had she taken even one drop too many. It also meant that she had to have been in a really bad state when she first took the medicine.

[Querylon]

Vinny stood in Querylon’s kitchen and admired his handy-work. Everything was back in order. Even the corners were now free of sticky goo, yellow powder, and clay shards. Yes, even his mother would be pleased. Or she would have been, if the cat had not decided to return and dump his latest kill on the just mopped tiles.

“Meow.” Boots left the rabbit at Vinny’s feet and looked up with a rather proud expression, even for a cat.

“What? You don’t expect me to gut and dress your dinner for you?” But the feline was already walking away. "Personally I would've gone for a duck rather than rabbit, but it's better than chicken." Vinny bent to pick up the offering. It was definitely a fresh kill; much cleaner, too, than he would have expected from any ordinary cat.

[Querylon]

Querylon’s pantry didn’t offer much to add to the rabbit meat now boiling on her pot bellied stove. Most of the shelves in the small room were empty. Vinny ignored the few jars of various pickled vegetables and decided to make due with the carrots and the two apples he had found.

[Querylon]

Water. Cool, sweet water. It felt good in her mouth. Querylon swallowed. It hurt, but the water made the cottony feeling in her mouth and throat go away. There was more. She swallowed again, and again. She wanted more.

“Slowly. You’re still pretty weak” The admonishing voice was familiar. “There, that’s enough for now.” There was no more water to drink and she felt her head being lowered to the pillow.

Who did the voice belong to? She wanted to know. She tried to open her eyes, but they refused to obey her command.

The owner of the voice was leaving. She wanted to say something to stop the person. She wanted to wake up, but sleep still had too strong a hold on her.

The meaty aroma of rabbit stew tickled her nose. The memories of waking up in the bear trap and how she got home started to rush back. Her head immediately started to hurt again, but not nearly as badly as when she had first gotten home.

Who was that puttering about in her kitchen? This time when she tried to open her eyes, she succeeded. And just in time to see Vincent walk toward her. He was carrying a cup in one hand and a glass in the other.

“You’re awake. Good.” He smiled and looked entirely out of place in her humble abode with her apron tied over slacks and a shirt that belonged on a golf course.

“Are you more hungry or thirsty?” She was too baffled to answer. Her eyes however looked to the glass in his hand.

“No, don’t try to sit up just yet.” A moment later he sat next to her and was helping her to drink. “Better?”

Querylon started to nod, and then thought better of it. “Yes. Thank you.” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

[Querylon]

By the time Vinny left, Querylon was feeling much better. She had let him feed her one cup of broth but afterward insisted that she was well enough now to eat a cup of stew without assistance. And she had told him about the bear trap, her misfortune to fall right into it and what she had done after waking up in it – at least as much of it as she could remember. Further, he had extracted her promise to stay abed for another day. While her injuries could have been much worse, he didn't want to see them aggravated by her running around when she should be resting.