The Beast's Ward

Chapter Six: Magic in the Soil

After I quickly dressed in Christopher's old clothes, I returned to him in the garden. I had to tie a rope around my waist to keep the trousers up. He wasn't exaggerating when he said that he was big for his age. He must not have grown at all when he became a beast. He just got hairier. It seemed strange, when I first put the male clothes on, but once I realized how light and free I was without all those useless petticoats and skirts weighing me down, I came to think I may never wear a skirt again.

I ran from the mansion door, all the way back to Christopher, simply because I could.

As I came, bounding up to him, Christopher quirked an eyebrow at me and laughed. "It must be nice to get out of those ridiculous frockes, hm?"

"Who ever invinted dresses must have been an evil person." I said, my breath heavy from my sprint across the garden. "It's not fair. How come only men get to wear pants whenever they want?" I bounced on my my feet, loving the feeling of having no restraints. Like Christopher, I'd opted to forget my shoes. The grass felt cool and soothing against my feet. I wiggled my toes in delight.

"I'm sure that one day, you will, but I think the old bitties of high society would drop dead from shock if it happenened any time soon." He got up from where he knelt, weeding a patch of ground behind one of the oak trees. "Come with me. I could use some help, carrying the new roses to their bed."

I followed him to the shed. Inside was mostly gardening and repair tools. On the floor of the shed, were six small rose bushes, their living roots incased in old seed bags. I squinted through the gloom of the dark shed, not quite believing what I was seeing. I had seen roses of every variety of color and form since I had arrived at Christopher's manscion, but I never would have dreamed that black roses were even possible.

"Black roses?" I asked aloud. I crept closer and reached out to touch a small black bud.

Christopher seized my wrist at once, stopping my hand before even a finger could graze a single petal. "Don't. These roses are cursed." He warned. "They're the black magician's specialty. If you so much as touch them with your bare hands, bad luck will follow you for the rest of your life." He took the gloves off of his own hands and gave them to me. "Here, take my gloves. I'm already cursed, so I am immune to their venomous powers."

"Christopher…why are you planting cursed roses for her? You know you're only helping her hurt others, don't you?" I asked as I slipped on the much too large gloves.

"I'm all too aware of that." He said sadly. He lifted up two of the six plants and handed me a third, warning me to hold the plant out and away from my body. "I have little choice in the matter." He said as we carried the roses to their new flower bed. "If I am to live, I must tend to her roses, all of them, even the cursed ones."

I silently went about my work. While Christopher dug the holes for the black roses to rest in, I went back and forth from the shed, carrying the black devils precariously across the garden. Once that was finished, I went to work, keeping Foxy at bay, so that the roses would not harm her. "You needn't worry about her. The spells only work on humans." Christopher reassured me as he finished planting the last of the black roses. He climbed back to his feet with a grunt. "So long as you don't touch them, they can do no harm." He handed me his shovel. "Would you please take this back to the shed?" I'm going to get some water for them."

With my hands over the top of the shovel's handle and my chin resting against it, I asked him the question that had been gnawing at my mind before he had time to get out of ear shot. "If these roses are cursed, then what about the rest of them? She put you to work caring for them all, so they must all be important."

Christopher sighed heavily. His eyes scanned the ground and the roses that surrounded us, never meeting my eyes. "They're all enchanted, in some way or another. This is how she discreetly peddles her spells without drawing unwanted attention to herself. Who would suspect a gardener of witchcraft? Most of the roses are benign. She keeps her most dangerous curses at her new home back in London, the others she has me tend to. The black ones are the only ones here that can hurt you. Most of the roses here carry blessings. The yellow roses bring courage, the bright red, love, sometimes lust, the white brings good luck and enlightenment. The dark crimson brings peace. Their magic is carried on the wind with their scent and courses through their roots, petals and stems. Magic is soaked into the very ground they're planted in, they can't help but be different from their cousins outside the gate." He bent down and took some of the soil into his hand, letting it slip through his fingers and be carried away by the breeze. "It is because of this magical earth that these roses still bloom in the heart of winter, when the ground is covered in snow and all else around them is dead."