Daughters of Necros: The Awakening

2: High heels and horse hooves

Did I model for the cover, having the outfit and weapon already on hand?

...................................................

Yes, yes I did.  😜😎

Happy reading!  <3

"Greg, do you sense that?" I glance around the garden, but see nothing. Then I spin around and lever myself up onto the top of the stone wall to check the dirt path on the other side. To my surprise, I see not a single soul there.

Gregory leans back from the rose bush, his eyes as wide as saucers. He emphatically shakes his head. Negative.

"But I could have sworn I sensed... Never mind, perhaps I was just imagining it." I easily leap back down into the garden.

Gregory climbs down the ladder a minute later, the straw hat on his head casting a small shadow over his eyes. He proudly shows me my basket, now filled with a fragrant assortment of ruby buds and blooms.

"Divine! Thank you ever so much, Greg."

Gregory nods one final time, then picks up his shears and vanishes for the night, presumably heading to the Otherworld.

I cast one final uneasy glance about me, then shrug and rejoin my family and a snoring Arissa.

Mother holds out a hand and takes the basket. "These will do very nicely." She says approvingly.

Grandma looks up at us. "Humph! Those roses will need a ghost's touch if you want them to last more than an hour."

"These are Greg's roses." I point out.

"I can strengthen the effect of the death magic." She counters. "..Give it more power. They ought to last the whole night that way."

"I can't argue with that."

Mother chuckles as grandma reaches a wispy arm into the basket. Tiny tendrils of spectral haze touch each rose, then quickly recede.

"Is there some sort of special incantation that you want to do, as well?" I ask cheekily.

"Never you mind! Just leave us to our work!"

"Mommy, less talking, more sewing." Mother admonishes.

I observe their stitching in silence, with each of them plucking a rose from the basket in turn and weaving the individual stems into the loosely-sewn seamline. Then, the joins are immediately tightened with a sharp tug upon the thread, so that the repair is all but invisible.

Arissa mumbles in her sleep and does a half-twist, with the instant result of her falling off of the couch. "OW!"

Grandma gasps and hastily shoves her needle through the final stitch. "It's done!" She suddenly disappears back into her teacup.

Mother hurriedly checks both of their seams, then snips off the thread ends. "Perfect!" She then settles down, holding her needle loosely in her fingers, looking for all the world as if she has just completed all of the repairs on her own in record time. She blows a large gusty sigh out of the side of her mouth and wipes her brow for greater effect. "How much longer do I have to continue living this lie?" She mutters tiredly.

I elbow her. "You're right!" I say loudly, in an agreeable tone. "My, how time does fly! Arissa, hurry up and get dressed, or we're going to be late! And what would your father say then?"