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And then they turned a corner, and saw the bridge. It could have been one of the bridges over the Thames, five hundred years ago, thought Richard; a huge stone bridge spanning out over a vast black chasm, into the night. But there was no sky above it, no water below. It rose into darkness.
Stone and darkness.
Then one afternoon the butterfly wobbled out of a breeze and lit on the tip of her horn. He was velvet all over, dark and dusty, with golden spots on his wings, and he was as thin as a flower petal. Dancing along her horn, he saluted her with his curling feelers. “I am a roving gambler. How do you do?”
Fuzzy brown tonka bean, golden amber, bergamot, nutmeg, and petitgrain.
“It bit me!”
“What did you expect fairies to do?”
“I thought they did nice things.
Like — like granting wishes.”
“Shows what you know, don’t it?”
Osmanthus and raw honey with lavender, chamomile, white peppermint, raspberry, honeysuckle, thyme, bergamot, and Dracula orchid.
A city of mystery, wonder and majesty, said to have been built by order of Gilgamesh. Thick bitter almond and heady night-blooming jasmine with saffron, cinnamon leaf, red patchouli, river lilies, bergamot, fig leaf and the sacred incense of Inanna.