Dark Thread

by Crymsyn Hart

  “Come on.”

  Rory frowned, and his shoulders drooped. His lower lip quivered. “We have to go back in there?”

  “’Fraid so. Come on. Consider this a test to see how much you take your new job seriously.”

  “Have you faced anything like this before?”

  Ha! If you only knew. Darria forced a smile. “This is nothing. Wait until you get entangled with Medusa and her two sisters or have the banshee queen try to turn you into one of them or meet the head Angel of Death. This will be nothing compared to that.”

  “You faced all of them, and you weren’t scared?” Rory sank down on a rock protruding out of the ground. He looked completely green at the idea of having to confront the bull or whatever else they might come across deep within the woodland.

  If she had to babysit her new assistant, their working relationship wasn’t going to work. It was obvious that he was petrified, but hell, so was she.

  “Maybe Rory needs to see that you have the courage to get the big, bad guy. This is all still new for him,” Omar said to her.

  Darria agreed with her familiar. Rory might have been peering out his window at the house for the past two years, but it was another thing to get involved with it. “I was petrified when I dealt with all of them. This whole lifestyle choice scares the shit out of me. The undertaking and the necromancy were never something I asked for. Each thing I take in stride, and it’s made me stronger, just like after you realized you had your abilities.”

  Rory shrugged. She understood how the teenager felt. If she had to suck it up and deal with the necromancer side of herself, then he had to man up and deal with being an undertaker’s assistant. He couldn’t sit on a rock for the rest of his existence and hope that nothing scary would come his way.

  “I know. I’ll figure it out. It’s all happening so fast.”

  She burst out laughing. “You’re preaching to the choir. I’ll tell you how I got thrown into this gig when we get through all of this. Come on. This pin doesn’t want to be inside of my arm much longer. I think it’s humoring me for now. Let’s go face that beast. If I’m correct, it’s not really a bull at all.” Darria took a minute to comb the collective memory of the undertakers she had access to and saw that one of them, four back in her line, had encountered the bull before because he had ventured into another undertaker’s territory. It had gotten pretty ugly because they couldn’t work together. Rory got up and straightened his shirt.

  “Let’s go.” The determination in his eyes had hardened and made him appear a little bit older.

  Darria forged ahead of him. They got to the same spot in the forest where Rory had seen the bull. Energy gathered in a large circle in the center of a clearing. It fanned out and formed into the shape of the creature. Its red eyes glared at her, and it pawed the ground, challenging her. Intelligence lived behind that gaze. The monster was at least eight feet across, and those horns were three feet of deadly spears pointed directly at them. Rory whimpered, but she clutched his arm and held on to it, so he wouldn’t run. They couldn’t show fear. Not now. The bull huffed, a stream of steam pouring from its nostrils. The edges of its horns had ignited with a greenish fire.

  “What are we doing?” Rory breathed.

  “Hush,” Darria shushed him. She ran her fingers over her left arm, and the safety pin came out into her hand. She stepped closer to the bull. What Oliver had told her popped into her mind: she walked a line between the living and the dead. The bull wasn’t dead. It pawed the ground. Rory squeaked behind her. She glanced at him quickly.

  “Sorry,” he mouthed.

  Darria tried to sense more of the energy emanating from the animal and found that it originated from somewhere. She needed to find that somewhere. The pin grew heavier and warmer the longer she held it. “We’re not here to harm you or the one you protect. I have this to give to the one you serve.” She held up the pin, so the bull could see it.

  The bull walked closer. Something sharp touched her mind. “How have you come about this?” The bull spoke to her.

  “The undertaker and his assistant are dead. I’ve been tasked to return the objects to those to whom they are slotted to go. I take it you’re also connected to this line with the pin?”

  A hot gush of air blasted against her arm and turned its head toward Rory. “I am. I was doing a task for the undertaker, and I returned to find him murdered.”

  “I discovered their bodies. If you’re connected to them, I don’t understand why I’m encountering you now. You should have been there with Gabbie.”

  The bull pawed the ground. “The gargoyle and I do not get along. I went to find the next in line. I’ve been protecting her because I sensed she was in danger. I have some capacity to do that.”

  “I’m not a threat to her,” Darria responded. The creature must have been able to sense who he was going to work for next.

  “What of the boy? You’re a necromancer. How is that not a threat to my undertaker? How are you an undertaker?” the bull asked.

  “Hey, I don’t even know who this other undertaker is, so how can I be a threat to her?” Rory asked. He had gotten the courage to come closer to the bull.

  “You are a male and therefore are a danger to her.” The bull jabbed the air with his horns in Rory’s direction.

  Rory crossed his hands over his chest and gritted his teeth. “Look, you—”

  Darria felt a surge of pride, seeing how her assistant stood up to the phantom bull. Maybe he could live up to one of the numerous superhero T-shirts she assumed he had in dresser drawer. “Rory. Enough. We don’t want to make him angry. To answer your question, I doubt you have anything to worry about from him. I might be a necromancer, but the gods themselves have tested me and found me fit to be an undertaker. We both know I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t chosen to do this.”

  “Not necessarily.” The bull turned around and strolled deeper into the woods. “Come with me.”

  Darria didn’t like the bull’s statement. If he trusted her, even for a moment, she was going to follow him and make sure that the pin was in the hands of the woman it was supposed to be in. They walked through the trees, and a foreboding feeling came over her. It only grew stronger the longer they went into the forest. The bull was more physical than a simple ghost. With its tremendous size, it did not trample anything under its hooves. It moved soundlessly through the brush. They came to a glade, where she found a dilapidated cabin. Moss grew on the roof. Portions of it had collapsed under the weight of the trees that lay across it. The front part of it appeared to be intact, and the chimney had a few bricks missing off the top, but it seemed usable. A porch swing swung on its rusty chain, thudding against the wooden exterior. Square windows with half-broken shutters were twisted eyes that watched them approach.

  Once Darria stepped into the vale, dark energy descended over her. She clutched her chest. Something stabbed at her spirit. Laughter filled her head; devious chortling made her dizzy. It tugged on her soul. Several spirits hovered by the cabin. Something else animated them. Those things didn’t mean anyone any good.

  “You’ve noticed them,” the bull stated.

  “I did.”

  “What are they?” Rory asked.

  “You can see them?” Darria looked at them more.

  “I see black blobs, but whatever they are, they aren’t nice.”

  “They’ve been trying to break into the protective circle I erected. It’s a good thing you have come, then. My powers are strongest when the undertaker and their relic are together. These entities creep closer each night. You are a necromancer. You can take control of them and send them away.”

  Darria glanced at the darkened forms. The grittiness of evil clung to the shapes animating them. “I can try, but not right now. First, we have to get this to the undertaker you’re protecting. Will you take me to her?”

  “She’s in the cabin. You have to convince her. The boy stays here.” The bull blocked Rory from entering.

  Omar jum
ped from her shoulder to his. “I’ll stay with him to make sure he stays put.”

  “Thanks. Rory, Omar will keep you company. Maybe you can play a hand of cards or something,” Darria joked.

  “Funny.”

  The bull snorted. Darria slipped inside, holding on to the safety pin, which grew hotter the closer she got to the woman it was supposed to go to.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” a soft voice peeped from the shadows.

  She peered further into the darkness and saw a slight form hiding behind a raggedy couch. The whole place reeked of stale beer, vomit, and urine. The cabin had become a crash pad over the years for those who needed to party or escape. The fireplace remained usable. The pile of ashes told her that this woman had been here longer than a few days. Torn-off candy wrappers, beer bottles, and water bottles were strewn around the floor along with a couple of dead rats and leaves, which all formed a ring of debris.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Darria. I’m an undertaker.”

  “All the undertakers are dead.” The girl’s head bobbed above the sagging sofa. Her dark bangs were uneven across her forehead. Big, blue eyes stared out from behind large, yellow, round frames.

  Darria held up the pin, so the girl could see the artifact. “There are a few of us left, so I’m told. I’m the only one who didn’t get squashed, although a few have tried. This is for you. I’m supposed to collect all the rest of the objects, deliver them to the other potential undertakers, and put the departed ones to rest.”

  “Unless it doesn’t let you.” The other girl found a little more courage and lifted her head above the couch. Her hair touched the bottom of a pointed chin. With the shape of her face and big eyes, Darria thought she was some kind of a cross between a fairy and a librarian, or hell, maybe she was a fairy librarian now turned undertaker.

  “Who or what doesn’t let me?” Darria asked. She stepped closer to the girl, hoping to get close enough to hand her the pin because it was burning her hand. It didn’t want to be with her anymore.

  The other girl bit her lip and threaded her fingers through a hole in the sofa. “I don’t know its name, but it’s scary.”

  “What does it look like?” The mystery deepened.

  “I-I’m not sure. It’s cold and dark. It controls the things outside. It-it killed my parents.” Her bottom lip quivered.

  “How old are you, sweetie?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Shit.” This girl wasn’t going to be able to function on her own by being an undertaker without knowing what she was doing. Even Rory was barely legal. Are you sure this is the one? She directed the question to the pin. It scorched her palm, so she figured that it was telling her yes. Darria thought about sitting down on the couch, but after seeing the holes in the cushions and what was on the springs, she decided against it. “Your friend out there wouldn’t let me anywhere near you if he believed I meant you harm. This big, old pin wants to go to you. Why don’t you take it?”

  The girl stood no more than five-foot-two. She wore a plaid skirt, knee socks, and a white shirt that was smeared with dirt. Her backpack matched her loafers. “How long have you been here?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know—two, three weeks, maybe. I kinda lost count. Merc’s been keeping me company and getting me food since he doesn’t want me to go outside of the circle. It’s getting smaller. I can’t keep it out, and soon, they’re going to come in.”

  “If you take the pin, you can come with me, and I can bring you back to my house, where you can be safe. Merc is the bull?”

  The other girl nodded. “Merc. Mercury. He sensed I was in danger when I ran out of the house and found that my parents were slaughtered. I ran from him at first, but I couldn’t get away from him. He’d find me wherever I went. He explained who he was and who I was supposed to be. It was kinda hard to swallow, ya know? He gave me a ride here, so he could protect me.”

  “Did he explain what it means to be an undertaker?” Darria inquired. How is this young girl going to handle the demands of being an undertaker?

  “Not really, just that I’d be working with dead bodies and other supernatural creatures.”

  “And you believed him?”

  The other girl laughed. “Well, duh! Everyone knows that fairies and pixies exist. I’ve been seeing them since I was a kid. My mother always blamed me for the things that would get moved around in the house. She didn’t see the gnomes or the brownies. It wasn’t a big stretch to think that other things were out there. Mom used to say she never should’ve put me in that fairy ring when I was a baby. I went in normal and came out touched, as she called it. Are you sure you’re an undertaker? You don’t look like it.”

  “I’m sure. I’ve been an undertaker now for a year and a half. Before that, I was the previous undertaker’s assistant for three years. My predecessor was killed at about the same time all the other undertakers were. My harvester saved my life. What’s your name?” Darria spun the pin around in her hand and tried not to focus on its warmth.

  “Evangeline. Most everyone calls me Lina or Eva. How do we do this whole undertaker thing? You give me that pin, and it does ... what?”

  “I don’t know what it’s going to do for you. My key can open any door. Your pin can pierce a hole into reality and pin it back together. It’s what brought me to you. It’s yours if you want it. I’m not going to give it to you until you’re sure that you want it. It comes with a whole bunch of responsibilities. You’ll work with grim reapers and process dead bodies with the souls still inside of them. You’ll have to collect items you need to keep away from the outside world, sometimes travel to where the objects are, and people might try to kill you.” Darria held out the safety pin to Lina. The girl reached for it and then pulled her hand back. It seemed that the teenager was taking this great turn of events in stride, but underneath it, Darria had to figure she was freaking out.

  Lina took the pin.

  Green energy jumped out from the pin and crawled all over her body. The six-inch pin Darria had been holding morphed into a small safety pin with a green star on the end of it. The energy enveloping Lina even turned her glasses emerald. Her eyes fluttered closed. When her eyes snapped open, they had a hint of the same green energy. Lina stuck the pin on her shirt.

  “Whoa! That was crazy.” Lina threw her arms around Darria.

  Darria hugged her lightly. “What did you see?”

  “I had all these flashes of stuff downloading into my head. I know things that I shouldn’t know. I can see ancient places like I was there yesterday. Wow. They are so vivid.” Lina held out her hands as though she could touch them right there.

  “It sounds like you got all the memories from the other undertakers downloaded into your head all at once. And—”

  “What the heck are these?” Lina pulled up the left sleeve of her shirt. Three small, red poppies had appeared around her wrist, trailing up her arm.

  “They’re all part of the package for those of us with a little more oomph.” Darria showed her the ten poppies on her arm. Lina touched them, and Darria’s power crackled purple around the blossoms. There was also something within the girl Darria had not sensed before. Whatever it meant to be an undertaker, it also meant to have innate gifts. Lina said she could see fairies. Darria sensed a trend when it came to the undertakers. They were people chosen who had no one left or wouldn’t be noticed if they were plucked from the human world.

  “You have ten of them. How come two poppies aren’t open?”

  “Each time I’ve fulfilled something or survived some cosmic, supernatural event, one of the blossoms opened. The last one to open was a couple of weeks ago when I had my own encounter with my dark side.”

  “What kind of dark side?” Lina pulled her hand away from the poppies and shivered. “I’m not sure I want to know. Never mind.”

  Darria nodded and seemed to understand because maybe she had sensed something within her. When Darria switched her other senses, the aura surrounding Li
na nearly blinded her. She was full of life, and the darkness within Darria shied away from that. They were at two opposite ends of the spectrum, and she could understand why this girl was drawn to the fairies. Within the light of her energy field, Darria thought she could actually see wings.

  “It’s okay. I’m a necromancer.” Darria glanced back at her left arm. “What the hell?” It appeared that even though she had given the pin to Lina, a tattoo of it remained in her arm. She touched it, and it zapped her, but it didn’t come out of her arm.

  Lina’s mouth formed into an “O,” and her eyes lit up. “That’s so fucking cool. I really wish I could do that. Isn’t that kinda gross with body parts falling off or something? You don’t ... you know ... have sex with the corpses that you work on?”

  “Ew. No.” Darria chuckled. “Don’t lose the pin. If you do, you have a connection to it, so you can call it to you. You can now lift hundreds of pounds more than what you weigh. I don’t know who your harvester will be. What do you think about getting out of here and going to someplace warm?”

  Lina glanced around the cabin and settled her gaze on Darria. “Can Merc come with us?”

  “Of course. If he’s your familiar, then he’ll come with you anyway. Just to warn you, I have a gargoyle living with me. She was chosen to watch over my house, and apparently, she and your bull don’t get along. I have an extra room you can have for as long as you want to stay.”

  “I really want to take a shower.”

  “I have all the hot water you want. Come on. When you’re ready, I can bring you to where you are supposed to set up shop.”

  Lina stepped out of the cabin, and Darria followed.

  “Phew ... is she a bright one,” Omar whistled.

  “Don’t even go there. She’s fifteen and jailbait. You go near her, I’ll chop your fingers off,” Darria warned her familiar.