Bee And Foxglove

Bee Scratches An Itch

The next day, there was a knock at the door. Foxglove went to the door, paused, and looked to Bee. Bee suddenly realised she had been casually levitating peanuts as she ate them. She ushered them back into the bowl. Foxglove opened.

It was Francis. A carriage with two horses was parked behind him. Vincent was sitting in it, looking in.

"I just wanted to tell you, and as your house was on the way, I thought to do it in person," said Francis. "Vincent and I are riding to Illumia."

"Oh," said Foxglove, understanding dawning. "To see the healer."

"Yes. So... we're in a hurry and won't be able to keep our first appointment with you. Forgive us."

"No, of course," said Foxglove softly. "I understand. Um... be swift as wind through the branches of the Great Tree." (That was an idiom, and sounded a little pithier in Kandran. It also had a rather nice rhythm to it. Never mind).

"Good luck," said Bee.

Francis nodded briefly and went back to the carriage.

Foxglove held the door frame and waved them on their way. Bee waved once then went back to levitating peanuts and biting them out of the air. Vincent boggled at this for a brief moment before the carriage drew him out of sight.

*

It was the morning of a few days later. Foxglove had just taken a coffee to Bee in bed.

Bee took it. "Thanks, honey," she said appreciatively, stretching a little.

Foxglove smiled and gave Bee a kiss on the lips. It still tasted of her own morning coffee.

Bee didn't drink her coffee right away.

"Foxglove," Bee said, looking vaguely troubled.

Foxglove became attentive. What could be wrong?

Bee frowned. "I..."

"Yes?" said Foxglove.

"I... really want ice cream."

"Oh," said Foxglove.

There was a silence.

At last, Foxglove asked, "Do you want my input on that, or do you just want me to listen to you?"

Bee thought about this. "I... really want ice cream."

"Uhh... right. So... do you want it enough to ride to town?"

"Not... really..."

"Why don't you make some with magic?" asked Foxglove.

Bee stared at Foxglove.

She kept staring at Foxglove, gaping a little. "I... can do that?"

Foxglove shrugged. "I don't know? You can freeze stuff, right?"

*

That morning and afternoon were a flurry of activity.

Bee did not, it must be stated, know how ice cream was made.

To start with, Bee took a tub of milk, closed her eyes to focus her energy, then said: "Freeze."

The milk froze. Bee took a spoon to it. The spoon rebounded.

"To be honest, I could have expected that," said Bee.

Next, they tried pulverising the ice. That was fun, but it just left them with a type of milky icy sludge that would not become fashionable in Kandra for another hundred years.

Next, thinking that it could be about the fat content of the milk, they spent the next hour making cream (in the middle of which coaxing Julia, their camel-cow, to give a little more milk before continuing). Then Bee froze that into a block, then turned that into an unfashionable creamy sludge.

"It tastes pretty good, Bee," said Foxglove, after tasting it.

"It's not ice cream though," said Bee.

Perhaps the sugar and fruit were key to the right texture? Well, that attempt tasted even better, but continued not to satisfy Bee.

Bee and Foxglove ended up walking up the path to their nearest neighbour to ask for some more milk to work with.

They had a very chatty neighbour. Foxglove had to suppress giggles seeing Bee's increasing impatience as she politely made conversation, waiting until it would be an appropriate moment for them to excuse themselves.

Back at home, Bee got out a quill, inkpot and paper and drew diagrams as she theorised on what made ice cream, well, ice cream. Foxglove gazed at her, remembering just how in love she was with this odd creature.

It was late afternoon when Bee put her spoon into a tub labelled "Batch #27", put the spoon to her mouth, and then screamed: "EUREKA!"

Foxglove had been taking the washing in, but hearing this, ran into the room. "Bee! Did you get it to work?"

Hand shaking, Bee held out a spoonful to Foxglove. Foxglove tried it. Her eyes went wide. "Eureka!" she cried.

"EUREKA!" yelled Bee, dancing and hugging Foxglove. They both danced and squealed and screamed together. "EUREKA, EUREKA, EUREKA!!!"

There was a knock at the door.

Foxglove and Bee froze, staring at each other. "Quick!" hissed Bee. "Hide the evidence!"

There was a lot of it; at least ten tubs of milk and cream in various stages of glaciation. At last, Bee and Foxglove piled it all into a corner and threw a tablecloth over it.

Foxglove went to the door and collected herself. Bee brushed Foxglove's hair quickly with her hand, taming an unruly lock. Foxglove nodded and opened the door.

Both Bee and Foxglove breathed an audible sigh of relief, seeing that it was just Francis and Vincent. Vincent smiled. "You sound like you've been having fun."

Bee smiled radiantly. "We have!"

Foxglove noticed there were bags under Francis' eyes. He looked... haggard. She felt herself sober up quickly. "Francis," she said softly. "Are you... okay?"

"I... yes, of course," said Francis, nodding as if to drive the point home. "It's just..."

Then he started crying.