A is for...

 A is for Aconite, B for Belladonna, C for Cyanide and D for Datura she recited, her brows furrowed as she pressed the pestle rhythmically, grinding the leaves harder. The air was saturated with the essence of cloves and cinnamon and saffron. Hiding the taste and smell of poison from her concoctions was the first lesson she was ever taught. A slight smile tugged at her lips as the memory hit her.

O is for Opium, P is for Phosphorus.

She could still see Morgan and her workshop, crowded with books, bottles and alembics. As rainbow liquids bubbled and stirred, she had sat quietly, her lanky legs dangling from a high stool in the corner of the room.

‘Never let them suspect it. Spices are your friends. They will conceal all that you cannot’, Morgan had said to her. She had been so young then, she had only looked down, avoiding the piercing green gaze of her teacher.

S is for Strychnine, T is for Thallium.

She sighs an ancient sigh. How many years ago was this? One thousand? Two thousand? She had stopped counting. King Arthur had been taken to Avalon. Ships disguised as dragons had laid waste to the country. Weapons hissing fire had appeared. Horses had been replaced by metal-clad beasts. And then came the machines and their Artificial Intelligence. She had stopped counting long ago.

V is for Venom.

She pours the bright potion into a dull vial, adding a pinch of aniseed and whispering a curse.

Z is for Zyklon.

‘Not a bad run for humankind’, her eyes sparkle and she feels like she is twenty years old again. She opens the curtain separating her laboratory from the reception room and walks to her guest. ‘Make sure it is attached to the nuclear head. This will ensure there is no survivor. Not one. Not even rats can resist a good poison. So, humans?’ She stifles a laugh as she presses the vial against her customer’s palm.

 

 

Painting: Morgan le Fay by Frederick Sandys, 1864.
 

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