Boneseeker

by Brynn Chapman

  No blood.

  “Henry?”

  My name on the wind congeals with a shriek.

  A high pitched keen, like a woman in pain, sounds to my right. From the tree line.

  I spin, my eyes squinting, trying to see into the woods. My legs tense to sprint as the otherworldly cry sounds again.

  I cock my head and I see it.

  It’s a fox; my head whips back toward the trail. It sniffs the air and our eyes meet for a brief second before it disappears in a red-brown streak.

  But a fox cannot speak my name. Was it my desperate imagination?

  My lungs fill as I hold my breath, listening.

  Foxes sound like women.

  Like a woman being murdered when they’re in distress.

  The hair rises on my arms, lifting each hair like a wildfire, spreading to the back of my neck.

  “Help.”

  It’s muffled. The fox cries again from the woods and hair prickles up my neck.

  I bolt back to the trail, turning in useless circles.

  “Arabella?” I speak in a normal tone, not wanting to bring the giant or Stygian.

  “Henry.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Henry, look down.”

  The sound issues below me, seemingly under my feet?

  I drop to my knees, placing my ear against the wet earth.

  “Henry.” It’s louder now, directly under me.

  My hands trace the grass, feeling and probing.

  My fingertips feel the end of a large board, covered completely with grass and dirt. If not for the rain, I might’ve noticed it, but the mud slick hides it most effectively.

  Tunnels. I think of the mine-shaft. Many tunnels and rooms like catacombs, all leading to the underground river.

  My fingers slide beneath the edges and I heave back the board as my breath shudders out.

  Bella’s face stares up, meeting mine. The underground room is large, an old mine. Similar to the one which housed the hand.

  My eyes trip over every inch of her, searching for injury. I exhale.

  She’s fine, just filthy. Her chest rapidly rising and falling.

  “Are you alright?”

  She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths, staring pointedly into the column of light illuminating her face. “Better. I can see the sky now.”

  She’s surrounded by skeletons. Giant. Skeletons.

  And mounds of ash?

  Her voice shakes, “It is a burial ground. But these skeletons have been moved Henry. Someone is hiding them here. This mine was not their original resting place.”

  I smile. Her pick and brush and tape measure and her sifter are lit by her lantern. She has actually been examining the skeletons, while trapped. I shake my head.

  “How did you get down here?”

  “I fell in, actually. The board was not in place, and I was running.”

  “From the giant?”

  “Yes. Actually in pursuit of the giant. He did the most curious thing. His huge head appeared in the hole, and he put his fingers to his lips to quiet me. And then replaced the board—effectively incapacitating me.”

  I catalogue the info, but shove it aside. “We have to get you out of there.”

  Arabella’s tiny hand points toward the dark. “They’re more tunnels, connected. There’s a huge rock, half-blocking the exit. I’ll bet one leads to the cavern where we found the hand.”

  “Then there might be gases. You need to get out.” I whip open my pack and scrabble around inside, searching for a rope.

  “Listen to me, Henry.” The urgency of her voice makes me drop the rope and I meet her gaze.

  “What do you remember about Dr. Klink?”

  My mind searches for details about the first set of antiquarians…the ones who disappeared. The lost four.

  “He was a smallish sort of man.”

  Arabella stamps impatiently. “His defining characteristic.”

  “A gold tooth.”

  Arabella opens her hand. In the center of her soot-stained palm, a golden incisor shines.

  “What?”

  My eyes dart around the mine in horror.

  Two smaller skeletons lie alongside the giants. I assumed they were children.

  I see now it’s a trick of perspective. They are normal sized men, but appear childlike next to the giant skeletons. They are also in an earlier state of decay than their larger counterparts.

  Arabella’s open palm is shaking, the gold tooth reflecting little sparks of light into the dark.

  “T-they burned his body. This ash pit broke my fall.” She drops her eyes and shudders. “The dead broke my fall. I’ve been sifting through their remains for a quarter hour. They must’ve been interrupted, and just stashed it all here, till they could finish the job properly.”

  She paces, counting, “Marston and Sully in the river, Klink, burned and buried…and perhaps Archival left to dissolve in the vat.”

  A new fear dawns in my chest. We are in grave danger here. Completely exposed.

  My head jerks up towards the tree line.

  Dog barks ring through the wood. The search party is drawing near.

  “I know Stygian is in on it.” She swallows reflexively. Like she does when she’s hiding something.

  How?”

  “His ring, Henry. I got a good look when he took it off at the phrenology lecture. It had an R- on it. I couldn’t remember why it looked familiar. And then I dreamt about it. Last night.”

  “What? I don’t understand?”

  “The scar on the giant’s face. It was half of Stygian’s ring. Like he heated it and branded the poor fellow. But he must’ve fought back, resulting in only a half of the crest on his cheek.

  My mind flashes to the giant’s cheek. “Yes. You’re bloody brilliant, Arabella.”

  “And what Jimmy told me.”

  “What? When did you see Jimmy?”

  “Never mind. Listen. He said Stygian was an assumed name, and he was trying to get his father to join this ‘Brotherhood of the Revolution’. I think Stygian’s just moved L’uomo Deliquente here, and is recruiting under another name. He has been at the sausage factory. I think we have him. I would’ve told you yesterday, but since the river my mind isn’t functioning properly. And it’s even worse now.”

  “Arabella, you need to get out of that ruddy hole. And what do you mean it’s worse now?”

  “I believe all the first team had the ring Henry; they were part of the society. But they must’ve changed their minds. Perhaps they found something that would alter their belief.”

  A trickle of red snakes down her shoulder. “Bella, you’re bleeding.”

  “I.” She hesitates, swallowing, then pulls her hand from behind her back like a guilty child. “I am injured, Henry.”

  So much blood. Her hand is covered in crimson. My eyes race over every inch of her. “Where is that coming from?”

  She reluctantly turns and the fear explodes, pounding my heart like a war-drum.

  The back of her head. Her hair is matted in blood.

  “I struck my head. My pictures,” she points to her temple, “inside my head. They’ve slowed and are blurry. I am not reasoning as I normally do. It’s as if someone sawed open my cranium and poured in molasses.”

  “Arabella. Now, the rope.”

  She waves the comment away. “Listen! There’s more.”

  I feel the cold sweat erupt. “Grab that rope!”

  Her voice cracks. “Oh, Henry, too much more.” She pockets the tooth and snatches up a long bone in her hand.

  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.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  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 f
ingers 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.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  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?