From The Cave

29 August, 2011 at 11:02 (Flash) (, , , , , , , , , )

Jack Frost is a tall figure, tall and spindly and slightly blue-grey around the edges. If you were to see him walking down the street then you might think that he was very, very ill. If you were to see him sleeping upon a park-bench then you would probably think that he was dead. He wouldn’t be of course, it’s unlikely that a creature such as Jack would ever be found dead on a park bench. Unlikely, though not impossible.

Jack Frost is responsible for ice crystals, frost patterns and leaves frozen delicately into place on autumn mornings. It’s not exactly a well-paid job nor even especially rewarding, except in the most artistic of ways. The methods that Jack uses to supplement his income are spoken about in dark corners and beneath carefully warmed shadows. Most widely known about are the necklaces that he brings to markets on the edges of faerie, or those several layers beneath London and Baghdad.

The magic inherant in a baby’s first laughter is widely known, indeed there are merchants at such markets who, it is rumoured, have fathered many children to have ready access to such products. Who continually fashion the curious alchemical glassware needed to capture these things. Sometimes Jack does come to the markets with such a bauble, to the annoyance of the merchants he will often come close to giving it away. Those baubles are widely known, those magics are easily captured by the slightest practice of the hermetic arts. Jack brings something unique, necklaces of baby’s tears, bracelets of the impotent rage of children, earrings of toddler screams and the echoes of a child’s first swear-word. These things are unique to Jack, if a merchant is selling them and they are real, then he has bought from Jack.

No one knows how he gets them, though the whispers in the dark places tell of unspeakable things and of horrors in woodlands and the far places of a child’s world. There is talk tht Jack had a dalliance with a woman and that he took something from her and since that time has appeared at the markets with something to sell, something that men have killed for in the past and doubtless will again.

But whatever is said of Jack Frost, that cadaverous, slender man, it is certain that whilst he sells his merchandise, the old and young, the wise and the seekers will all continue to buy.

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Negotiation

27 August, 2011 at 12:55 (Flash) (, , , , , , , , , )

“Babababababa” cooed the baby, clutching it’s toes with it’s fingers.

“No way, I can’t go higher than twenty, it’d be un-natural.” said the tall, blueish figure above the crib.

“Brrrrrrrrrp” sputtered the baby, wetly, one hand waving wildly, foot still stuck up in the air.

“I can go to thirty two for the second major sale, not the first. Anyway, we haven’t closed one deal yet, never mind a whole sale.”

“Ssssssssss” drooled the infant, letting go of it’s feet completely.

“We could go up to twenty-two, with two early molars to be replaced at two years with the usual type.”

“Babababababababa”

“What deal you broker with here is entirely between the two of you.”

“Gugagagugagasszzzz”

“So, for twenty two how much would I get?” asked the tall, slender man stepping back a little.

The baby rolled back it’s head and bawled, the cry echoed around the room and filled the house. Tears seemed to threaten to roll down it’s cheeks at any second. Then the baby stopped it’s cry and focused it’s gaze upon the tall, blue man.

“We have a deal.” he said, eagerly. “Look, can you hold onto the merchandise? I’ve got to make a call to the buyer?”

The baby wrinkled it’s nose.

“I can make a downpayment in good faith,” offered the man.

The baby might have seemed to nod to an observer. The man, in anycase stepped forwards and gently took the baby’s jaw between his fingers.

“It’s delayed, be a few moments before it kicks in. Right, I’ll be back tomorrow night.” said the man, then in a flurry of glittering cold he swept out of the window leaving some ferny patterns under the eaves and a solitary icicle hanging from the gutter.

The baby began to cry, the man would surely have cursed the tears that he missed, but the baby’s mother, snoring in the room below didn’t curse at all that she slept straight through. She didn’t even notice.

When the blueish figure returned he noted at once the smell and offered, tactfully, his services to change his client. His client was too proud, however, to accept. He did flash a sudden smile at his tall visitor, showing the beginnings of pearly, white teeth. Jack grinned back. Then, they got down to business and the baby cried.

Even Jack was tired when they had finished, but they were both pleased with the day’s work as Jack held up three long strands.

“Blackbird’s going to be very happy with this deal. If you can keep this up for the next couple of years you’ve really earned your twenty-two.”

The baby just lay back in the crib, breathing hard, all cried out.

“Not many can, you know,” continued Jack. “Even if they’ve got the lungs for it, they’ll be constantly interrupted.”

“baabaabaabaaaaa” burbled the baby.

“We’ll renegotiate in seven years then. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The tall, thin figure left a flourish of swirls on the window but the baby didn’t notice, nor did his mother come up the stairs before they had melted clean away. She did notice her baby’s new teeth though, and wondered, somewhat distractedly, how much a teething ring would cost.

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Necklace

25 August, 2011 at 22:57 (Flash) (, , , , , , , , , , )

“Shhh” he said gently, to the crying baby. “If they come, they’ll stop you crying and then how will I harvest these?”

He held up a glistening dew-drop, suddenly solid and firm.

“Can you imagine how much I’ll get for a necklace of baby-tears?” he asked.

The infant stared, wide-eyed and the gangly blue man and, if you were of sufficient imagination, you might have thought it shook it’s head.

“A lot.” said the thin man. “And now for your part of the bargain. Sure about it?”

That imaginative onlooker would have sworn blind the baby nodded.

“It’s going to hurt.” he said.

The baby scowled.

“I can see you’re determined. Very well.”

Skeletally thin fingers were placed over the baby’s mouth and cheeks where they pressed for a moment.

“Right, pleasure doing business with you,” said the man. “And I promise they’ll start happening soon, but I’d rather take my leave first – never was very good with pain.”

So saying, he opened the window and clambered out onto the ledge leaving icy patterns in feather formation across the glass.

A few minutes later the baby set up with a lusty, roaring cry and it’s parents came racing.

Within moments the baby was out of it’s crib and being rocked by it’s mother whilst it’s father looked on anxiously, “What is it? What’s making it cry this time?”

The baby’s mother hushed and hummed and cooed nonsensically to the child whilst she tugged and prodded and pulled.
“Aha!” she said at last.

“Is he well?” asked her husband.

“Very,” she replied.

“No need to worry then?”

“None at all.” she laughed.

“Show him the window,” he said to her then. “Jack Frost’s been.”

“He’s not the only one.” she said, turning so the baby could admire the frost patterns on the window. “I think the tooth fairy’s started to call as well.”

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