The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow

by Patrick Walsh

  He stopped when the hallway door opened. A young man from under the bridge walked through and lit the lanterns hung about. Aza watched as he snuck quick peeks at the dreaded Nightman himself inbetween lighting. He was gone in due time and two new, but very familiar faces emerged from the light. One walked up to the cell slowly, having been burdened with… troubling information. The other strode without a care in the world, prouder and more pleased with himself than he had been in a very long time. Tom stood in front of the cell, his eyes wandering to the pace of his thoughts. He wore a frilled blue overcoat with a white cravat and other formal attire. They had clearly been pieced together from other things but done so with enough care as to almost fool the eye. Beside him was Tobias himself. He was dressed in a similar manner, only it was clear his overcoat was store bought as opposed to patchwork. What he wore now was how he had commonly dressed long ago and what his son’s attire was loosely based on. Along with that, he wore white gloves and carried a walking stick that he had ceased needing but kept anyways. His face was covered in razor scrapes, yet also stubble that would not stay gone for more than a few hours. He had a full head of hair, too full in fact. It had been freshly cut to near baldness the last morning yet was already back in his eyes. Said eyes were yellow and bestial, claws hidden under his gloves and hinged feet hid within his special boots.

  “Well, well, well and well.” His hands were behind his back as he swayed forward and back. “Azriel it's been too long.”

  “Azriel?” Tom looked back and forth between the two, only to be ignored.

  Aza looked over to the two, only shifting his neck. Part of him just wanted nothing more than to strike through the bars with a few threads and end the man whose lies had followed him all these years. Yet he was tired. There was no point. He didn’t care anymore. “Why?”

  “Hmm, what was that?” Tobias leaned in, his eyes alight with interest.

  “What did I ever do to you?” He turned more of his body, meeting eyes with the gleeful devil.

  “You? Nothing.” He reared back and looked to the ceiling; preparations being made above. “Tell him, son!”

  Tom cleared his throat, speaking as if he were not fully convinced of his own words. “This town needs a leader, someone who can unite the people and start a new era of hope and progress…” His troubled mind wandered back to the long conversation he and his father had had the evening before. “Even if you and the other unnatural people don’t mean any harm, you’re dangerous. Even if you’re not really the Nightman, you need to be dealt with. You’re something the town can unite against before moving on to bigger threats. We chose you as the Nightman because...because…” He tried to think of the reason, only to realize he was never given one.

  “Because your dad was a fool who left the rest of us behind!” Tobias laughed the words, bitterness woven through them. He leaned over and hugged his son with one arm. “I’ll get things goin, but right here is the future of this backwoods pile of dung. The boy who will lead us into a new eara, one where the Verenhaus name is looked on with pride again!”

  “You’re the one who dragged it through the mud.” Aza sighed.

  On a dime, his face changed. The cheery demeanor was gone and the arm once around his son slammed into the cell. “Because Thomas left us behind to run off with some lower class scum!” He reared back. “The only good thing that fool did was get himself killed so you wouldn’t carry on our noble name!”

  “Wait what?” Tom looked to his dad, unsure of what he meant.

  “Heh? Oh, a little detail I left out. You know that good for nothing brother of mine?” He pointed to the cell. “That would be his son and would have been your cousin had he still been considered part of this family.”

  His son blinked a few times and looked to Aza, unsure how to react or even if he should.

  “Anyhow, what brought you to my little farm? Did I finally get to ya?” His words were laced with overconfidence and self satisfaction.

  “Aggie died. Gregory died. Luke...Luke died.” He sank further into his seat as he remembered his best friend being cut down in front of his very eyes. His heart dropping at the thought of not being able to see Gregory off, or that Aggie had lost her fight against this evil place.

  “Kehahaha!” He began laughing so hard that the scar on his stomach, inflicted by a werewolf long ago, began to ache. “Oh, so you and Aggie finally managed to get em all killed? Ah, was only a matter of time really.”

  “Did you two just come here to gloat?”

  “Oh, that would be the long and short of it, yes.” He swung around and began walking towards the door. “Come on Tom.”

  “One moment, I just want to prod a bit more if you wouldn’t mind.” He turned to face his father, who was annoyed, but it quickly faded.

  “Sure, sure. Just don’t take too long, I need ya out on the town to get those urchins exited.” Like that, he pried the old door open and vanished from sight.

  Tom turned to Aza and looked him up and down. Someone he had hated for so long, but it was a lie...or was it? Maybe he had always known or… he didn’t even know. “So, is this some kind of plan you and Aggie threw together?” He spoke the words spitefully but wanted them to be proven true.

  Aza just looked to him. “They’re dead. You and your dad win. Just take the victory and leave me alone; sounds like you have quite the future planned out for you.”

  Tom stood in the dim light trying to think of a reply, but nothing came to mind. This should be one of the greatest days of his life, but knowing Aza wasn’t really the Nightman...that it was all just a lie...pulled all the joy right out of it. He felt sick. “Yeah… I’ll see you in the evening then.”

  Aza was left alone, the only sound being that of the marble tumbling down to the wall and the strings pulling it back. Simple and monotonous. While he sat alone, Dullahan stood with Hansel and Gretel. The latter of which filled him in on all the death and destruction that had happened in the time he had gone. When her story had finished, he just slumped against the wall.

  “So, if ya can’t tell, we lost. Now I gotta tell all of Aggie’s old contacts, and then figure out what the Undertaker was rambling on about.”

  He blinked a few times. “The Undertaker? What did he have to say?”

  “Something bad is gonna happen tonight. I’m not sure what, but maybe once I get done with this me and Hansel will deal with it...I don’t know. “She rubbed her hands through her frizzy hair.

  “The purge?” Han slowly leaned back up. “He has to be talking about the purge.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hansel had largely been ignoring the unwanted guest, but this got his attention.

  “Out at sea, I met two of the governor's commanders. They had intercepted a communication between the witch and a contact from the nation over. She is going to wipe this town off the map and flee with the gauntlet.”

  “What!?” Both siblings exclaimed in unison.

  “That is the reason I came back. I think I have a way to stop her.”

  The brother and sister looked to one another and then back to him. Gretel slammed a pile of papers off the desk. “Damn you, ya old hag!”

  “Gretel…”

  “No, she always does this! She always makes some mess and we’re left to pick up the pieces.” She stood up and looked to Dullahan. “Look lad, I don’t know why you would come back here if what ya just said has any truth to it.”

  He straightened his collar. “Because I told Aza and Luke, I was here to help this town...and...and I intend to follow through with it.”

  Gretel just stared at him; her thoughts tore from one thing to the next before settling on the moment at hand. “How? How do we have any hope of standing against her?”

  Some of his confidence returning, he walked past her and over to the back wall. He pointed to a large map of the area pinned against it. “A lot of this is based on inferences and inferences of inferences...but souls are my specialty back at the academy. Now is she is a witch,
then she has to be using old magic. She could be using current magic, but that is unlikely given how different they operate.”

  “Ok, well what’s the difference?” Gretel watched him, a small part of her beaming with the hope he might have something.

  “Old magic is the original way people practiced. It is very...abstract and high cost to perform. It also means you need some external power source for most of your spells to even work. Think of the old stories of the sorcerer who loses his power once his staff is broken.” He looked back to the map and made a circle around it. “Most people don’t use it, since it tends to not be worth all the effort for most day to day utility. That is unless you want something that will last for a long time. If she has as many wights as she does, then I would bet you anything she has a soul net over this region that stops the dead from being able to pass on. Instead, they remain trapped here until she needs them.”

  “So, if we break this net will it kill the wights?” Hansel raised his eyebrow, the wheels in his mind turning.

  “Well no, but you are on the right train of thought. Old magic means she won’t have a Graveheart. People cannot control that many souls on their own without an intermediary. A necromancer makes the Graveheart, he gives it an order, and it makes the dead carry out that order. That thing the Nightman has must be a soul lantern, which would serve the same function, but you need an enchanter to make one. That is unless you have a tomb of old artifacts you can pillage.”

  Gretel walked over to the map. “So, break the lantern and then she loses control of the army?”

  “Yes. Though, if what I said is true then one of your deities should have noticed this many souls just not passing on. Though I suppose I am not familiar with what customs and contracts they abide by.”

  “So that army will attack us up here with that lantern while she stays below trying to get that stupid glove?” She rubbed her chin. “Take out both and she loses both her army and her magic…”

  Han nodded.

  Gretel sighed. “If this would have any hope of working, we’d need to call in everyone. Every contact, every favor, every...everything. We would need some way to hold them back until we could break those things. Wait, but if this gauntlet is so damn strong then why wouldn’t she just do it herself? Why bother with the wights?”

  “Because a lock like that, even with the code, will take time to break. Which brings me to my next point.” His finger flew to the East Leviathan. “That lighthouse is an old Vorustrow tower. We lack the time to go into all the details of it, but that is what she is using to tap into the gauntlet. From what I can tell, it will be underneath the tower. One team will need to go there and take it out, while another gets rid of the lantern back in town. Once the wights are broken from her control they won’t just lack cohesion, but will likely start attacking each other.”

  She rubbed her chin. “But how….how do we even begin?”

  “Well...well I do not really have an answer. I had not realized things had gone so bad so fast.”

  “Did you just think you would come back; all would be forgiven? We would just all figure something out from there?”

  Dullahan thought about it for a moment. “Well...well yes!” His words began uncertain but ended strong. “Enough impossible things have happened already so why not one more?”

  Hansel laughed. “I like you.” He then turned to his sister. “You know all of mom’s old contacts.”

  Gretel looked to both of them. “What, do you want me to assemble an army?”

  They looked to one another, Han adjusting his glasses. “Well, could you?”

  “I don’t know what other option we have. Over these years, I’ve seen all the monsters and demons she has under her power. The three of us can’t stop them so the way I see it we can either fight or run.” He tipped his hat. “An we both know we ain't willin to do the latter.”

  Gretel sighed and fell back into her chair. “I miss her.” She ran her hands through her long hair. “I can’t do this… not alone.”

  “You aren't though.” Hansel crossed his arms. “Ya got us, and ya got all her old allies ready to cash in favors from. Besides, we both know she’d want you to bring that sea hag down for havin the gall to kill her.”

  She gave a faint laugh. “I suppose so.” She looked up to Hansel, and Han in turn. Her mind swam, with loss, with confusion, but now with purpose. He was right. There was no running away, and even if there was, she wouldn’t do it. With renewed confidence building, she stood up and dipped her hand into the large tank of water. The large creature within slung its many arms around her own, her hand disappearing into one of its larger orifices.

  “What would that be…” Dullahan looked the creature over, it appearing like a deformed squid with fungal growths.

  The creature finished settling and Gretel moved her arm a few times, only having used it once before. “Master transponder, one of only a few in town. If it eats a transponder from a certain pod, then it can use that network. Aggie has it hooked up to all her allies. One for Zachary, one for Arthur, and so on.”

  “Splendid!” Dullahan looked from one sibling to the next, then to the doorway. “If you two want to start gathering people, I can try to pull someone in myself.

  They nodded and set to work as he hurried out and onto the dreary streets. The wind had picked up as the storm began to build out at sea. Not like the one from the night before, but a proper disaster. Dullahan was very aware of this as he peered down the streets, getting the occasional odd look or two for his attire. It didn’t take long for him to get his bearings and find himself back in the parlor of the undertaker’s shop. The sound of arguing echoed out from the rooms below, getting louder as he descended down the stairs and to the familiar hallway. Desmond and De Vone were there arguing about what would be done with Luke’s remains when they found them. The former didn’t want to handle them while the latter seemed to ramble. Dullahan was taken aback when he saw the two. Desmond was shaking, a cup in his hand, and a night of no sleep at his back. De Vone, on the other hand looked better than ever, as if he had shaved the last thirty years off his life. It was him that turned to Dullahan first.

  “Ah, the Palididan returns!”

  Desmond turned to him, anger spreading over his face. “Where were you last night!?”

  “I made a mistake, and I am here to fix it. I need to speak with Mr. De Vone.”

  The apprentice wanted to say more but didn’t have the patience. He instead stormed out and to one of the other rooms. “I’ll be looking over what we have in the back if you need me!”

  With him gone, Dullahan looked the undertaker right in his violet eyes. “What are you? A necromancer, a wizard...some fae or demon?”

  He smiled and tipped up his top hat. “Nah, just an old fool here to lend a helping hand.”

  “Then can you help us? I think you already know what the witch has planned, and you might be the only one strong enough to take her on.” He wasn’t satisfied with the vague reply, but it didn’t matter as long as he would stand by them.

  He laughed, loud and long. “Oh no, no no no. I can help, but this is your battle. Besides, I’m not the only one who would be able to take her out.”

  “Aza.”

  He shrugged. “He’s gotten pretty good with those threads of his. Besides, you have quite the little scheme goin. I assume part of that would involve crashing the execution.”

  It was Dullahan’s turn to smile. “Of course.”

  He took a bow. “Then hopefully I shall see you in the evening.”

  Dullahan nodded in return and dashed back up the stairs. The undertaker strode to the storeroom where Desmond was rifling around with some pins, nearly dropping them from his jittering hands. He turned to his boss, then slipped them onto the shelf.

  “I can’t put him back together...I can’t see him like that…” He closed his eyes. “Why can’t you just do it?”

  De Vone put his hand on the young man’s shoulder and met his frustrated gaze. “E
veryone has a time to go. The living become the dead, the new becomes the forgotten, the apprentice becomes the master.” He handed Desmond his cane.

  He looked over it, puzzled. “What...what do you mean?”

  “My time here is at its end. Tonight I will either leave this town having seen it face its demons, or be consumed by them.” He began walking out. “Go find Aggie’s kids, I’m closin down early.”

  As Desmond rushed to follow his boss, Dullahan sped back down the roads. A large crowd pushed past him, some from under the bridge and others from the nearby homes.

  “You finally got the bastard!” One of them called out in joy.

  Dullahan looked to where he was speaking to see Tom smiling and waving them on, two of his cronies at his side. The scholar quickly turned on his heels and followed the three down another of the roads. One of the boys tugged on Tom’s sleeve as he looked over a list of homes he was to stop by. Upon seeing the outsider rushing over to them, he stopped and turned to face him.

  “You need somethin?” Suspicion and anger were woven between his words.

  “Yes actually.” He looked to the two boys. “I am inquiring about the events of the day before.”