Aza turned away from his meal to see her holding up a stuffed cat about a foot or so long. It was missing one of its button eyes and looked about as rough as the lighthouse monster. Yet it brought a smile to his face. “You found Sammy the kitten. Oh, so many memories with that old guy.”
Gretel flipped around the burnt out, ratty looking toy. “I eh...I would assume it looked a lot less nightmarish back in the day.”
“Mostly, yes. I had a lot more of them too, but he was always my favorite.”
“You did?”She puzzled his reply as she set the thing aside and began scooping everything back into the box.
Aza gagged a bit on his octopus as he realised the mistake he had made. “Not from mom or dad. Gregory gave me some of his grandson’s old toys since he wasn’t around anymore. I was a little old for em, but they were comforting considering all that happened.”
“Ah, ok.” She could tell something was off with him, but figured it might just be from discussing a very delicate topic. She just hoisted up the box again and staggered as the bottom dropped out.
This new clatter was finally enough to get Han to stirring in his blankets. After some tossing and turning, he pulled himself from the floor and popped his sore back. Aza and Gretel bid him a good morning and he ascended the stairs with a change of clothes. Once decent, he strode back down to join Aza at the table. To the scholar's joy, more food had been brought out for him. The dish was not ideal, even a bit hard to stomach, but food was food and he was hungry. He loudly chomped down everything in front of him and then leaned back in his seat, satisfied.
Aza had sat quietly, but felt he needed to prod. “So how did that test go last night?”
Han was taken off guard, and coughed a bit as he leaned forwards again. “Oh not well. Like I had stated, it was not meant for what I was trying to do. The whole mess just fizzled out, unfortunately. It was not anything too important in the grand scheme of things, a mere curiosity.”
Aza nodded, figuring that asking more about the test would result in a non answer. “Are you ready to head out?”
“Of course! Even more so then last night.” He grabbed his satchel and hopped up. “Are we going to find Luke first?”
Aza looked down. “No...no we’ll get him after. Besides, Desmond knows me, it won’t be a big deal.”
Dullahan didn’t say anything, just followed along as Aza bid Gretel goodbye and walked out the door. The sky was overcast, like usual, but far more so for this time of day. If Gretel hadn’t said it was around noon, Aza would have thought it evening. Was it just an odd day...or were forces stirring, the group’s prodding and investigating having caught too many unseen eyes? He shuddered at the thought as he started up the road. While normally he was hurt by people avoiding getting close to him, it really payed off when he was in a hurry. They were headed to the Shade District, dwelling of the Undertaker and other grim professions. As the two traversed the narrowing streets, Aza noticed a grey skinned boy dart behind a house less than a block back. He knew it was one of Tom’s cronies, but didn’t care. He just continued on his way until hearing the ding of the bell as he crossed the grim threshold and into the shop.
Han gagged when they walked in, and was forced to pull his undershirt over his nose. It was not as stale and rancid as the creature at the tower, but still an unpleasant stench nonetheless. The two were standing in a small greeting room with a long, black desk and a half open door at its side. Coffins of various sizes lined the walls, with dim orbs of light in between them. The tendrils of the fungal network were clearly visible, snaking around the open caskets and onto the ceiling. Aza, followed by Han, took a seat on the bench, next to the wall of the entrance and waited. They heard shouting in the back, both energetic and exhausted. The two were most likely very busy and Aza was prepared to wait, but to his surprise, Desmond burst through the door. His eyes were manic and, based on his body language, he was clearly exhausted. While Jack and Luke were very clearly related to one another, Desmond was not. He was tall, but years of apprenticing and working at this grim abode had left him thin and pale. A thickly gloved hand ran through his matted black hair as he pulled up a set of papers.
“I’m sorry but if you don’t have an appointment you will need to leave. Can I have your name? He looked down to Aza, who was still sitting.
He waited for a few seconds while Desmond stood there with a skeletal quill. “Um...are you ok?”
A few more seconds ticked by before the weary apprentice rubbed his eyes and laughed. “Oh by the loa, I’m sorry Aza. This whole month and the last two days… I feel like I’m losin my mind.”
“It’s fine. I was just wondering something.” He hopped up and walked over to the desk, followed by Han.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more ledgers until...well...things quiet down!” His neck twitched from a nervous tick he had developed through the combination of a stressful work environment and addiction to Bell Sugar.
“No, not those. Have you ever heard of the Paladins?” Aza decided to take a different approach than just relying on wearing him down.
“Who?” His upper body went low, getting uncomfortably close to his guest. “Aggie told you about them didn’t she? Bah, if you wanna go learn about them then ask one of the bankers or the landlords.”
Han crept up from beside Aza and held out his own gloved hand. “The name is Dullahan McGavin. I am here on behalf of the Paladins for an investigative assignment.”
Desmond slowly shook his hand, looking over his strange, silver attire. A bouncing, scattered mind trying to place the stranger somewhere in the town, yet came up short. “How exactly do I know you’re with the Paladins?”
Han shrugged. “I’m in the current uniform.”
His violet eyes trained in on the stranger’s vest and coat. “Well...well I don’t know that!”
“What proof would you like?”
Desmond thought about it for a bit, wondering himself. “I...maybe a badge or…”
“Who’s here?” An old, raspy voice echoed in from the back.
He whipped around, jumping at the familiar sound of the undertaker’s voice. “It’s Aza Tessior and a guy claiming to be from the Paladins!” He shouted back, still eyeing Han in suspicion.
“The Paladins? Well, why didn’t ya say nuthin? Bring em down!” His voice was followed by the sound of something loud dropping and clattering.
“But they’re...he…oh bah.” Desmond just waved his hand, content to lay the matter to rest and let the crazy old man deal with whatever came of it.
He gestured for the two to follow as he slipped through the small door and down a flight of steps. Aza seemed oblivious, but, once again, Han was hit by a thick wall of stale air. He buried his face further into his coat as the two stepped onto the wet stone below. Before them was a long, narrow hallway with many doors on either side. Most were locked but the three closest to them were visibly open. The whole place made the pair claustrophobic, not helped by knowing what lay just out of sight. Desmond on the other hand was as impatient as ever, tapping his foot and waiting for the old man to hobble out and show himself. Sounds bounced and echoed around them. Bone and flesh being molded, wires being stitched and tangled in a futile attempt to make the mutilated victim look presentable to their family. It went on for some time before they heard the sound of a cane scrape against the ground followed by one of the doors flying open, revealing the man of the hour.
The Undertaker was a pale specter with a bum leg and long white hair. He wore what was once a very nice overcoat and top hat, though now both were irreparably stained with blood and bile. It was clear that, despite wearing the same gloves and apron as Desmond, the old man was far less careful. He stopped only inches from the three, taking off his hat and doing a little bow. The ancient man almost fell as his cane came off the ground. Overall he was what Han was expecting, old and creepy, yet there was one thing that stuck out about him. He wore a vibrant purple scarf, clashing with every other part of his look and a
ttire. It was torn and worn to the point of almost looking feathered, yet was otherwise pristine.
“Aza my boy how you’ve grown!” He grinned and pulled up a blood stained glove, expecting his guest to shake it.
The uncomfortable boy merely smiled and nodded. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
He thought for a moment, scratching his scraggly hair. “Hmm, I suppose we haven’t! Still, I would assume you’ve grown?”
Aza nodded again, unsure how to talk with the man.
“So ya joined up with the Paladins! I always knew you were destined for big things.” He looked Aza up and down as if he were dressed as a king.
“What? Why and how would he have joined them?” Desmond was both annoyed and confused.
The jovial old man merely threw his arms up and laughed. “I don’t go gossipin. I don’t know what every woman and child is up to.
He pointed to Han, who was a little offended by the mistake. “He’s the Paladin or whatever.”
The old figure moved his eyes to the silver individual with the funny coat. “Huh, kinda reminds me of old Van Neilson..no, or was it Jeb... Oh, which reminds me!” He gestured to the open door he had come from and looked up to his apprentice. “Margaret is lookin like a closed casket; them pins ain’t holdin.”
Desmond clapped his gloved hands together and gave an exasperated laugh. “Yes, I told you that four hours ago.”
The old man looked up, thinking back. “Nah, I’m sure ya didn’t”
“Yes I did! We could have moved on but now we’re going to be late again!” He looked down at his boss in frustration.
“Pfft, let em wait. We ain't paid by the hour, they be payin for quality.” He turned back to the two guests and waved off his apprentice. “You take her to the dismemberin table an I’ll take these two gentlemen to the office.
Han’s already tumultuous stomach turned at hearing “dismembering table”. “Excuse me, but what was that?”
Desmond looked at Han like he was dumb and pointed to the open door behind them. Inside, dimly illuminated under the yellow light of a fungal orb, was a metal table ratcheted to an angle. It was covered in straps and surrounded by many small tables covered with various instruments such as saws and pliers. On the far wall behind it was a segmented shelf holding short, steel rods and various urns of salt. Upon seeing the horrifying chamber, the smell and a growing sense of unease finally got to him. Han pulled his face from his jacket and retched. The other three having to jump back as he gagged and sputtered.
“Ah great!” Desmond glared down at the floor and caught Han as he fell back. “Another mess to clean up.”
The Undertaker just laughed at their misfortune and shrugged. “Not my problem, my loyal apprentice.” He laughed again as he hobbled off to his office, Desmond and Aza helping Han along behind.
Once again, the room was small. There were two bookshelves on the far wall, two chairs by the door, and one desk set in between them. All were very ornate in design, with carvings of sea beasts and the roaring ocean. Each one had been hand crafted from an almost black wood, and dotted with purple dye for the creature’s eyes. The Undertaker leaned his cane on the desk and flopped down in a large, padded seat that somewhat mimicked a throne. Han was lowered into his own chair, followed by Aza. The sick guest was given some smelling salts that the two morticians kept around for the more squeamish of the village. Said concoction did the trick, and he was right as rain again in no time.
“So what brings you to my little shop of horrors?” The old man gave a toothy grin.
Han was in a far less jovial mood. “What...what was that for?”
Two of them seemed confused, not sure what there was to not understand, while the Undertaker remained unphased.
“That...that room. I understand you’re morticians but...dismembering ...” Han was now very on edge.
Once more, Desmond looked down at the supposed Paladin like he was a dope. “The folks that go through there ain't exactly the kind who care anymore.” He thumbed to the corpse lying on a metal table just a few doors away. “Sides, if you have a better way to keep the departed out I’d like to hear it.”
Now Han’s fear began fading to being just as confused as the two next to him. “I think this would be an example of something...something unique to this little town.”
Aza and Desmond looked to one another, with Aza being the one to explain. “I don’t think it would be different out there...um...well as I guess you would know, when someone dies they don’t always stay dead.”
Han raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“Well...how do you deal with them?”
Han straightened his vest. “We lay our fallen to rest in the sea...but they don’t come back...ever.”
Desmond rolled his eyes. “Ok I don’t know how things work in Paldin Land, but here the dead are restless. If it looks and moves like a human, somethin will jump in at night. It’s why we gotta cut em up and put rods in, it stops the joints and neck from workin. It’s why we don’t have puppets or use scarecrows...well except dad in his eh...infinite wisdom…”
Han was very surprised by this news, more certain than ever he needed to get out of town...yet if he could have some idea who was behind it all… “No, in “Paladin Land”, as well as the rest of the world, the dead stay dead unless acted upon by an outside source. How long has this been going on?”
Desmond shrugged. “Long as most anyone remembers.”
“I see.” Han was deep in thought.
Aza turned to their grinning host, who was still waiting for an answer. “Anyways, we were wondering if we could examine a body.”
“Ha, that all? An here I was expectin something exciting!” He leaned back, watching the duo for how they replied.
“Well not just any body.” Han smirked a bit as the Undertaker sat back up with interest. “I require a body belonging to one of the creatures that roams the night.”
He rocked forwards. “Oh, really now?”
Desmond tensed up. “What makes you think we would have any? Some...some even say they can’t die!”
Aza turned around. “I know they can. A man in a grey coat cut one down right in front of me!” While he hadn’t actually seen the thing die, it seemed like a safe bluff.
“Ahhhhh, that damn Grey Ghost again???” He rubbed the side of his head and spun on his heel. “Don’t bring him up!”
“Who?” Han turned to face the frustrated apprentice.
“The Terror of City Hall!” The Undertaker laughed, waving his hands around as if telling a ghost’s tale.
“He’s a troublemaker that keeps whackin the hornets nest, an puttin us all in danger!” Desmond glared back at his boss who seemed oblivious.
“Go on.” Dullahan waved his hand.
Desmond stepped back as all eyes fell on him. “He...he is uh…” He cleared his throat. “About a year ago the higher ups from the town council began having bodies sent to us. They were...unnatural. The rich folk mutter and then the clean up crew mutters...eventually we get a picture of things. It seems that someone is runnin round at night huntin down those things, just like the Nightwatch did. An just like the Nighwatch he’s only makin them, and the higher ups, angry. I’d bet ten silver that he’s the reason for those things rampaging through town the night before last.”
Han tensed a bit at the mention of that night, but composed himself and began formulating a rapid barrage of questions. “First, it sounds like the bodies are covertly brought to you. How exactly can that be if no one can come out til morning, or are these crews exempt somehow?”
Desmond thought about it. “Well...I’m not too sure really.”
“What about the bodies, what are you told to do with them?”
“Chop em up, and shove em in a grave or dump em into the sea.”
“Do the ‘higher ups’ want people seeing the bodies?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Han leaned forwards, and tipped down his small glasses.
; Desmond was getting more and more nervous as he had once asked these questions himself, but had long since stopped out of fear. All of them being pressed at the same time by this supposed paladin was overwhelming. “I...I don’t know…”
Han sighed and nodded before looking up at Desmond, making eye contact. “I see. Do you have one of the bodies here now?”
“No! Well…” His eyes darted down the hall.
“Aw come on Dessie, show em the thing. Though grab a blood bucket incase he gets sick again.” The old coot chuckled and pointed to the hallway.
His apprentice opened his mouth, but then closed it. Whatever fallout came of this meeting would fall squarely on his boss's shoulders. He didn’t like that, but he couldn’t keep trying to save the old bastard from himself. Desmond simply stepped back, and gestured for Han to follow. He obliged, though doubted a bucket saturated with blood would help his stomach. While they departed to the back of the hallway, the Undertaker and Aza were left alone in the dim office.
“So, what brings you here?” The eerie man leaned back and arched his fingers.
Aza was confused. “To see the body and maybe identify it.”
“Then why didn’t you go with him?”
“I don’t need to look, just him…” Aza was feeling a bit uneasy.
“Then you’re not here to browse the departed.” His smile widened.
“Well...well, I guess not. I’m here to investigate...but he already asked all the questions.”
“Did he now?” The old man cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think me blind do ya? I see ya lookin my way like you’re wonderin somethin. What is it lad? You want to apologise for havin Dessie sneak you all those ledgers? Maybe ask about your parents?”
Aza went rigid. “You know about my parents?” The question was prodding, yet vague. He didn’t know how much the old man knew, or whose side he stood upon.
The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow Page 12
