Boneseeker (24 page)

She brandishes it at me, like a shaman shaking his rattle. I notice the magnifying-monocle clutched in her other hand.

“This bone.” Her hand rakes her face, focusing herself. “This bone. This bone is very important.”

The crackle in the underbrush heightens. I hear Stygian’s voice.

“You’re stammering. They’re coming.”

“Quickly, focus Henry.” She turns the bone so that I can see the center. “It is
one-eighth
full of compact bone. And it is the size of a giant.”

My mind is stutter-stepping, distracted by the approaching search party.

My eyebrows pull together. “You said bone that was only one-eighth full was for birds.”

She nods, shaking all over. “Yes, for
flight
. Perhaps these skeletons’ fathers could…fly.”

Angels. Angels fly. The revelation rocks my head, and my eyes widen. “Fallen angels?”

She nods. “Nephilim bones. They found Nephilim bones.”

The Brethren of Large

The crunching sound of rock sends Arabella skittering to the far wall.

A large boulder shivers and scrapes, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” she says, flattening herself against the rock.

The rock halts, and a huge man, the giant from the woods, slides out from behind the boulder, which must’ve been blocking a passageway.

“I will hide the bone.”

The booming voice cuts through the dark. My boot slips in surprise and I cartwheel, trying to not fall into the hole.

Arabella starts and collapses into the pile of bones, which results in an odd clanking xylophone of the dead.

She holds the lantern aloft. The giant takes a step from the shadows, the scar on his cheek still an angry red weal.

“Who-who are you?” Arabella stammers.

The dogs are barking in earnest. I now see the search party. Stygian, Montgomery and five other men are barreling through the woods, headed directly for me.

“Hurry, they are come.”

“I am with the traveling circus. Stygian contacted me some months ago. He knew everything about me, somehow. I am a fugitive. He threatened to turn me in if I didn’t help him.”

They are going to find him, find Arabella with this evidence. I fight the fear twitching my face. Panic breathes on my neck.

The group is so close I can almost read their expressions.

“They’re coming. Wait….”

My breath shudders in relief as I see him; father intercepting the group, his shrewd eyes calculating my expression, stalling them.

“Make haste,” I spit. I pretend to ready the rope.

“I belong to a society. The Brethren of Large. We giants correspond, hoping to figure out a common bond, or ancestry. Stygian found me through the closest giant in the province.”

“What did he want you to do?”

“To hide these bodies. To burn them.” His huge eyes widen and he gestures to the pile of bones. “I did not kill them. I was to move these large skeletons ... ”

“What else?”

“I was to frighten you, to make you believe I was a fallen angel.” He sighs. “But he then wished you harm. But when I saw the small lady…I could not bear for her to end up as one of these.” His shovel-sized hand gestures to the skeletons.

“Quickly. I will hide the bone and move these out of the chamber, so you are not suspected. He is very dangerous, Miss. There are tunnels—”

“How far do they go? Was that you in the cavern by the underground river?”

I pitch the rope before Arabella.

“Tie it around you, Bella.”

The giant lumbers over, bending to gather a skeleton into his arms.

“Arabella.”

Arabella is rooted; her face working, her hands outstretched and cautioning. She is afraid he will damage the skeletons.

“Arabella! Move!”

Her life is at risk, and she is worried about preserving the bloody specimens.

“You are mad, woman. Tie that rope about you
now,
” I order.

Anger and fear congeal, the need to protect her, a raging beast of compulsion in my chest.

Arabella wraps the rope around her tiny waist, securing it. “How will we find you?”

The giant shuffles into the dark. “I will find you, Miss.” He brandishes the bone. The bone meant for flight. “I will keep it safe. That man is pure evil and I would choose any side opposing him.”

My hands grasp the rope and I pull, hand over hand, hearing Arabella’s boots grind against the rock walls as she scales from the pit.

Finally her hands appear at the hole’s top, grasping in the mud for a handhold.

I drop to my knees and grip her round the wrists, hauling her out of the hole.

The giant and I lock eyes for a final second. I spy a brass fastener on the underside of the plank.

Arabella strides toward the search party, and I quickly bend with my back to the group, securing the rope to the handle.

The giant can fasten the rope from inside, delaying discovery, buying him more time to move the skeletons.

Our eyes meet, and I slide the plank back into place, leaving his upturned face in the dark.

###

Sunset

Bella

The team is gathered around the large oak table, and a blazing fire roars behind me, warming my back and further dulling my already-addled wits.

Henry is on my right, John on my left. Neither will permit me out of their sight.

“So, Miss Holmes, I find it most peculiar that a woman so careful as you, found yourself at the bottom of a pit?” Stygian stares, his black eyes pinched.

I shiver, my mind superimposing a mask across his brow. This is the closest I’ve come to him since the attack.

“I saw a very large man, a giant himself, in the woods from my window. I was dashing flat out in pursuit, with the singular thought of catching him ... ” I hope I sound convincing. I am a horrid liar.

Mr. Abner skulks in the background under the premise of tidying, but I’m certain it is closer to eavesdropping.

Stygian sneers. “It did not occur to you, Miss Holmes, that you are a woman? And to go after said creature alone might prove dangerous or fatal?”

“I—”

“I cannot have your blood on my hands. One more impulsive venture and you are off the expedition. Do I make myself clear?”

I nod. There’s no point in argument. I want his attention off me, and back to the bones.

Henry drops his pocket watch and it rolls under my chair.

My sock-clad feet slide it toward me. I stretch my toes wide and grasp it, lifting it into Henry’s outstretched hand.

“Your toes are as acrobatic as the rest of you.” Henry chuckles. “I’ve never seen such a thing. You’re a regular primate.” He smiles widely.

The whole table goes tomb-quiet. John is staring at Stygian.

Stygian’s face is flushed and sweating.

“Sir? Are you unwell?” Montgomery prompts.

He shakes his head, and his eyes refocus.

“Fine.” Stygian bends down and extracts a box from beneath the table. “Montgomery and I have unearthed another part of the skeleton. A foot. He and I will be delivering it back to the steamer for safekeeping. A storm is coming, which will complicate the dig. I suggest you all make the most of tomorrow.”

I escort Bella to her room and she is in bed before I shut the door. But the sound of the housekeeper’s voice beckons me back to the stairwell.

I hunker at the top and have a clear view into the parlor and kitchen. “Dr. Stygian, this came this morning, but with all the chaos I haven’t had a chance till now…” The old housekeeper’s prattling dies on her lips as Stygian stares. She hands him a well-weathered envelope.

“I will take the rest for the expedition and distribute them. No need for you to take time from your already hectic day.” He smiles sarcastically.

The woman’s smile falters and I swear she shudders.

She then gives a quick curtsy and high-tails it away from his formidable scowl.

Stygian nods as she bustles out of the kitchen to the pantry.

His thick fingers quickly slide beneath the seal. He upends the package and something small slides into his hand.

For a fraction of a second, his eyes widen and he’s rigid. But then I see the practiced calm return to his features. He slides the contents into his pocket and strides toward the roaring fire, pitching the envelope over the grate.

Who was that for? What was in that envelope?

He strides toward the parlor sits at the writing desk, whipping open the parchment drawer, scribbling madly.

I slide away from the top of the stairs and slide back into Bella’s room.

“Bella.” She doesn’t stir on her bed. I quietly walk over. She’s sound asleep, her boots still on.

I carefully slide them off. My eyes drift to the back of her head, where the ghost of blood still haunts me. She needs her sleep. The blow to her head has greatly affected her thinking. The ghost of her words flutter in my mind, “I am forgetting something important.”

Unease twists my gut, hoping it to be temporary.

I will tell her on the morrow.

Transformation and Revelation

Abner Farmhouse

Henry

Below me are giant skeletons with upturned arms waiting for my demise, above me, beautiful-terrible beings alighting through the air like celestial birds of prey.

The beats of their mighty wings ruffle my hair and batter my face like a hurricane wind.

Angels. Beatific, winged creatures with faces full of judgment have drawn close to the earth. Like the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

I wake.
A gale-force wind blows against my face from the cracked-open window and I’m shivering all over.

I throw back the covers and stand at the window, and take deep steeling breaths as I search the night sky, almost certain I may see them riding the night wind.

My fingers draw in the condensation of their own accord.

I run a hand down my face, disoriented. Thunder cracks, deep and booming, opening the sky as a deluge rains down. I shiver more violently.

A deluge is what destroyed the Nephilim; I hope it won’t mean the same for us.

Where is the giant this night? Where has he taken the bone?

Thunder cracks and I start so hard my forehead smacks the window. With the flicker of lightning the woods illuminate like Edison’s new light. And I see them.

Outside, lined on a branch like soldiers, are black butterflies. Their wings bend against the raging storm as they struggle to hang on.

Are they looking for her?
I shake my head and turn my eyes toward heaven, then close them. There is no rational explanation for them. Darkness and another flash.

My eyes fly open, and tick left and right.

The butterflies are gone.

A trickle of intuition courses my spine. More like a deduction. Is Arabella staying put?

I don’t trust her.
She’s so bloody impulsive when compulsion grips her.

The farmhouse is quiet, save the storm sounds. Another thunderclap blasts above, close enough the window panes rattle. Outside, I see a small tree uproot.

This storm’s more like a gale. The wind blows like God’s fingers; plucking out mighty oaks, casting them aside like wispy saplings.

I snatch my boots, my pistol and pack. The taste of fear coats my tongue.

I skulk down the hall, avoiding the crickety floorboards I’ve now memorized. No doors open this time and I exhale in relief.

And suck it back in.

Bella’s door is open. I cram my eyes shut for a brief moment. “Blast that woman.”

Think, Henry.

My eyes whip to the long window above the staircase.
Surely, she would not venture out in this?

I look in her room and my heart sinks. Her parasol lies propped by her bed. And the knife-boots are at the bedside.

Snatched? By Stygian? I am going to hobble that girl and condemn her to stitch-work till she promises to stay put.

A hot stab of anger pulses through me, and I ball my fists; the walls of Bella’s room loom closer and quiver, as if ready to cave in. I bite down on my lip, reorienting my brain.

The desperate way he looks at her. Like he would do anything to have her.

Would he? Could he?

My anger floods my nose and with it the return of reason.

She’s either in the house somewhere
, my eyes flick outside,
or out in this deluge
.

I examine the door. No signs of forced entry. But Stygian could have a key. Which would mean Mr. Abner is party to the game.

I bolt downstairs to the fireplace, and shuffle through the ashes. A small corner of the envelope was not destroyed, fallen off to the side of the grate.

I extract it between my fingers, shaking off the ash. My eyes scan the fireplace. I see another bit of brown on the other side and pluck it up.

My head swirls.

Abner Farm

c/o Henry

It is writ in Arabella’s hand. It was sent to me. He has intercepted something important. Since she struck her head after falling in the hole, Bella has been off. She failed to mention this letter
. I have forgotten something important.
Her words whisper in my ear.

I open the corner envelope and see it and my heart skips.

I tip the tiny bone from the envelope into the palm of my hand and try, try, try to focus.

I close my fist around it and stalk toward the sleeping rooms. I head to father’s room and knock lightly.

He’s behind it in two seconds, his voice rough with sleep. “Who’s there?”

“Father. It’s Bella again.”

In two minutes, he’s up to speed and we’re skulking together through the night like a pair of common criminals.

I halt him as he’s about to alight down the stairs. I drop the tiny bone into his hand.

“Bella sent me this, in the mail while we were at odds. She must’ve thought them very important—too important to keep on her person at the time. Stygian intercepted it. He was obviously flustered—it is so unlike him to leave loose ends.”

Father’s eyes narrow as he considers. “A Sesamoid Bone. They act as a ball-bearing, to help the foot to bend. I don’t understand.”