by Crymsyn Hart
“Missed? Well, gee, that’s an understatement. What else have you missed?”
He ran his hand down Darria’s cheek, and she shivered from the light touch. “It’s not our fault, Darria. We have to consolidate our power right now. We only know so much about who is behind this coup. How Ankou got this power, I don’t know. We are guardians of the dead in our own way, more than harvesters, but not all-powerful gods. People have to believe in us to give us that power. It’s one reason we anchored ourselves to a specific line of undertakers. Each time a soul is processed, it imparts us a little bit of energy. Our icons are charged and funnel our power, so we can tap into it. When the undertakers were all killed, it affected us all in different ways. Ankou ... he warned us that this might happen because it had happened before. I guess he’s being used by some greater force.”
“Happened before? When? Who would be using him?” Darria glanced at Hekate.
“We don’t know. You were the only undertaker left standing who had any notion of undertaking and was still tied to the council. All of our bets were hedged on you. Then you went and forced your will on your harvester,” Legba told her.
“We had to do something. You were going down the wrong path. The decision was made...” Hekate chimed in.
It dawned her now. “You sent Stockton to watch me. You were going to have me assassinated.” Darria stepped toward the goddess, and her anger stirred. It was easy to bring her other half to the surface. Coolness washed through her veins. It gathered inside of her, and she curled her fists to keep from unleashing it.
A black dog appeared before Hekate. It barred its teeth and jumped at her. With a wave of Darria’s hand and a quiver of power behind the gesture, the beast scattered into ashes. “Obviously, you feel threatened. I’m not going to lash out against you. I’m not stupid. I’m just frustrated. Answer my questions.”
“Yes, we were going to have you eliminated. It’s our prerogative to step in when an undertaker is no longer doing his or her duty. The last time we did that was with Sophia. We had the harvester strip her of her position, and she ended up working for the gorgons. We went to the Fates regarding your destiny. They prophesized that you were supposed to die. Stockton begged for us to give you another chance to prove yourself.” Another dog appeared. Hekate patted its head.
“I was the one who reminded Stockton that the banshee queen had been searching for a way to free her daughter. If you learned to temper your powers, then you wouldn’t want to take over the banshee realm because it’d be like candy for a necromancer. Stockton was told not to interfere, so we could see how all of it would play out. He didn’t want to kill you, but he knew better than to go against us,” the goddess told her.
“You tortured him because he brought me back to life.” A lump of emotion formed in Darria’s throat over the hunter. They could have a relationship if the circumstances were different. Many things were falling into place about how her life had been since she had taken the mantle of being an undertaker.
“We do things as we see fit. It’s not your place to interfere with how we run the council,” Hekate scolded her.
“Ha! What council? They’re all dead, aren’t they?”
Legba flashed her a fixed stare, and she saw his answer in his eyes before he answered. “Yes. They’ve been obliterated. Ankou is the only other who remains. Whoever he’s working with, or working for, wishes to eradicate the undertakers. This is the highest number dead. The last time three undertakers died.”
“When was this?” Darria asked.
“It was a long time ago in another land. You don’t have to worry about it. A powerful necromancer was able to resurrect bodies from scattered spirits and tried to take over the undertaker lines. The undertakers and hunters were called in to help. Many valuable undertakers were lost when the necromancer declared war. He was less powerful than you, but he knew how to use his power. You can understand why we were a little skeptical when you came into your power within Hekate’s line.” Legba trailed his fingers over her arm.
“I get all that, but a little faith in me would’ve been welcomed. You had to remember that I was, and still am, a newbie. Maybe a handbook would’ve been nice. This whole ‘the other undertakers’ memories will download when you’re ready’ thing is crap. Changes have to be made. I can’t be the teacher to all the potential undertakers when I don’t even know half of what I’m doing.” Darria stared at both of them to make the point that she was sick of everything falling on her shoulders.
“You get the body from the hunter. You process the body. The harvester takes the soul. You dispose of the body. You keep a record of the death and all of your dealings in a diary. From time to time, you fetch an object that doesn’t need to be out in public or maybe even a body if need be. You work things out with your harvester regarding what you need to do. It’s very simple,” Hekate told her. “You do all that, and you are rewarded with magic, near-immortality, and still have the ability to have a family. It goes with you when you step down unless you completely renounce it.”
“No. It’s not simple. If you throw a person into this lifestyle without any direction, then it could do more harm than good. Lina seems to be a good kid, but that’s it. She’s a kid. She can’t stop aging at fifteen and assume she can pass in the world. You shoveled a whole bunch of responsibility onto her plate. You have to have an age limit and make sure they can handle the risk.”
“We don’t make that choice; the Fates do.” Legba touched her hand, and she calmed down a little bit.
“Then tell them that things have to change. If you want me to be your white knight, then this is one stipulation I’m going to demand. If you don’t want to talk to them, then I will. I’ll find a way to call them down here.”
“We can do that, but not until after you’ve delivered all of the objects to those undertakers and then discover who is trying to destroy them,” Hekate said.
Darria nodded. “Agreed. You also need to put the other undertakers to rest that Legba pulled away from the spirit world. Make sure they’re given proper burials. I can’t do it all. If you want me to save the world again, then something has to give.”
“I’ll see to it personally,” Legba told her.
“Thank you. How do I get the other objects?” Darria asked.
“Ahh ... this is another reason I called you to this realm. Hekate, I think we’re done here. Goodbye.” Legba flicked his fingers. The goddess disappeared, and a small, wooden box appeared in his hands large enough to set a deck of cards in. He handed it to her. “Hekate and I collected the other items to make life a little easier for you. Each relic will direct you to the person you’re supposed to give it to. When you’re done and Ankou is defeated, we will honor your requests.”
Darria opened the box. Inside was a small finger bone; a green button; a gray arrowhead; a dried, brown leaf; and a black, plastic comb. The comb reminded her of the ones she had gotten on picture day in the fifth grade. She touched the leaf and smelled her fingertips, only to cringe at the scent of tobacco. “This is the most random stuff I’ve ever seen. How can these be sacred to you?”
“You had a key, and look where it got you.” Legba pulled the small bone from the box and took her left hand. “The bone is mine. I don’t mean I picked one up from a grave. It’s actually the bone to my left pinky finger. It changes shape with the owner. The key used to dangle from Hekate’s ring of keys. The arrowhead was from one of Ankou’s arrows. The button was from Meng Po’s shirt. The dried tobacco leaf was in Mictlantecuhtli’s pouch. The pin was on Hades’s cloak, and the comb was what Hel used to brush her blonde locks. They were what we had at the time when we formed the council and created the undertaker lines. Hekate took the objects to the Fates to have them woven into the fabric of the universal tapestry. Once the undertaker lines are restored, the gods will return, and then, you’ll be rewarded.”
“I don’t need a reward.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think it works that way.
If you help a god, even a demigod, then you’ll be repaid. It’s the way it goes.”
“Wonderful,” she muttered. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Her limbs were heavy.
“You need to return to your body, but questions still burn in your mind. Ask me quickly before this all dissolves and I kiss you back to sleep.”
“Why did Hekate pull the necromancer side out of me?”
Legba set the bone on the inside of her left wrist. It sunk in horizontally and turned into the image of a small femur bone. Underneath that, he placed the arrowhead with the point touching the middle of the bone. “You should know the answer to that one. It would’ve taken you months to learn your powers. I asked Marie to teach you, but Hekate thought it’d be quicker this way. She wanted to be sure that she could control you. We both know that isn’t going to happen.” He placed the button at the bottom of the arrowhead, and next to that, he put the comb. Next was the tobacco leaf. All in her arm, they looked like some ancient Egyptian inscription.
“Makes sense. And no, you can’t control me.” She ran her fingers over the objects and figured they would alert her to where she had to go.
“I didn’t think so. What is your last question before I touch your lips?” Legba slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Darria looked into his eyes and saw his desire. For a second, she wondered how his lips would taste. She shook her head and thought about Oliver. Her heart skipped a beat, knowing that he was out there, and one day, she hoped the rift between them would be mended.
“Stockton. He did what he did to help me. You tortured him, and he’s an angel. He said he had one more chance with you, and then, he would fall maybe ... I don’t know what it was, but I know it’s bad. Can you wipe his slate clean?”
“What does he mean to you?” Legba pushed a strand of hair off her face.
“He healed me. We ... shared a night. I care about him.”
“More than you care for your harvester?”
She shook her head. “No. Stockton might’ve tricked me, but I know he did it to save me. I want him to know I’m grateful.”
Legba touched the feather. “A token of his affection. Do you know how to use it?”
“No idea. It’s a reminder of him and the night we spent together.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but you’d have to come through for us. Cleaning the slate of an angel, even if he is a hunter, is a mighty thing.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s time for you to pay my price and kiss me. I want to sample your soul and discover what intrigues all those who meet you. First your undertaker, then your harvester, an angel, and now me.”
“You’re not going to steal my soul, are you?”
Legba chuckled. “You haven’t incurred my wrath, and I swore to you that I just wanted to taste it. You won’t regret it.”
“So, basically, you’re going to lick it,” Darria teased.
He laughed. “Yes. Something to that effect.” Legba slipped his fingers through her hair and brought her closer.
Darria’s heart thumped as he held her in a light embrace, so she could feel all of him pressed against her. He slid his lips along the curve of her neck and inhaled her scent. He trailed his mouth along her flesh. Darria’s eyes fluttered shut because the longing overtook her. Part of her wished this was Oliver. Legba kissed her lightly at first and then became more demanding. Darria returned the kiss with the same fervor until she felt his tongue slide down her throat. As he locked himself to her, the gesture tingled her insides. Her power stirred. Legba withdrew his tongue and swiped it across her lips. Something crawled up her throat. It was semisolid, and yet, she couldn’t taste it. He pushed into her and drew in whatever squirmed up her throat. She nearly fainted from the pleasure of it. Legba withdrew his power and brushed his mouth across hers one last time before pulling away.
“I see why everyone is enchanted with you.”
“Why is that?” she whispered, trying to regain her balance.
“Ahh ... our bargain is played out, and it is time for you to wake.”
Darria shook her head. “What about the rose?”
“A parting gift. A mark of favor.”
Chapter 13
Darria opened her eyes and sat straight up in bed. She inhaled a breath and could still taste the licorice on her lips from where Papa Legba had kissed her. She touched her mouth and then glanced at her tattoo sleeve. The rose was embedded into her flesh near the crook of her elbow. It shimmered with silver energy that wasn’t her own. The tattoos of the other objects went down her inner left arm from her wrist to her elbow. Each of them glared at her. Darria thought back to her dream and remembered it clearly. It was a freaky thing, but all the questions and the information she had learned replayed over again in her thoughts.
After a shower, she felt rested and got dressed. Darria went into her office. She glanced around the room and saw the cobwebs up in the corners. Sometimes, when Omar was bored, Darria would catch him with a canary-yellow feather duster cleaning the shelves of all the books. Darria didn’t mind the dust or the cobwebs. Her eyes teared up. A large, brown spider sat in the middle of one of the large webs wrapping its silk around its latest meal. It made her miss Omar more. Trying to resurrect him now would be a waste of her energy. The thought came to her because there were other things on her plate. At least Papa Legba is going to gather the undertakers’ corpses, and I have their totems.
She finished writing down what had happened to her in her journal and realized she had also listed her priorities:
1. Find the new undertakers
2. Confront Ankou and see who is behind him with all the power
3. Defeat Ankou and his cohort
4. Resolve things with Oliver
5. Bring back Omar
6. Deal with teaching all the new undertakers
“Really, you want me to teach all the new undertakers, too? Thanks a lot.” She peered around the room and waited for some kind of sign. Nothing. Now I’m running a finishing school for undertakers. “I’m not calling the school Hogwarts. Don’t think we won’t talk about this after I talk to the Fates. I haven’t forgotten about that,” she said to the room.
A breeze stirred the pages of the diary. The energy passed, and Darria’s stomach growled. She glanced at the drawer holding Omar and headed down into the kitchen. She found three pizza boxes stacked in the fridge and fished out a couple of different slices. She wandered outside and saw Mercury. Rory and Lina were sitting on the bench under the trellises that Abner installed. Mercury grazed on sprouts of grass. Gabbie laid in the sun, warming herself.
“We didn’t want to wake you,” Marie said from behind her.
Darria jumped. “Thanks. I didn’t realize I’d been asleep for so long. I guess I crashed after what happened.”
“Makes sense considering all the spirits you had to free and then seeing what you were up against. Being a necromancer isn’t the easiest thing in the world. The power can drain you the way it does any witch. They have to find a way to store the magic.”
“How can we do that?” Darria asked, intrigued.
Marie took her arm and pointed at the poppies. “These store magic for us. And ... when did you get a black rose?”
“Last night. Legba answered some questions for me. That’s one of the things I was coming out here to tell everyone.”
“Be careful with him.”
“I don’t intend on getting into a relationship if that’s what you mean.”
Marie shook her head and lifted her skirt, revealing her leg. On the side of her left thigh was a black rosebud with a stem. The thorns were painted with blood. “He gave this to me because he favored me. He would come around when he wanted and expected that I’d pay attention to him whenever he wished. He’s used to being worshipped.”
“That’s not me. I don’t expect to fuck him if that’s what he thinks.”
The other woman raised her eyebrow. “You never know with him. Be on
guard.”
“I’ll keep that in the back of my mind. How are they doing?” She gestured with her chin toward Rory and Lina as she ate another piece of pizza.
“Happy as two clams getting ready to go into chowder.” Marie smiled.
“Does that make them happy?” Darria asked.
“I guess not,” Marie chuckled. “I never thought about it. It’s something I picked up over the years, moving around to different parts of the country. What happened?”
Darria finished the last bite of her second slice of pizza and covered her mouth. She burped. “’Scuse me. Hey, guys, can you all come over here so I can tell you what’s going on?” Darria called to them. Everyone crowded around her. She told them all what had happened to her the night before.
“Do you trust that these demigods are telling you the truth?” Rory asked.
“Because they’re right,” Lina agreed with her. Something lingered in Lina’s eyes that made Darria think she knew something.
“How do you know that? You’ve been an undertaker for all of five minutes,” Rory huffed.
Lina glanced at him. “You’re just an assistant. You don’t know things the way that I do.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think that made a difference. Women.” Rory crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.
“Rory,” Darria snapped at him. “She said something that stomped on your manhood. That doesn’t mean she’s commenting about whatever tween relationship you think you have with her. Lina has the memories of her undertaker line. She carries the relic of one of the gods on her arm. You haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“The gods are dead, according to you!” Rory said.
“Not as dead as you think,” a thin voice whispered behind Lina.
Darria glanced over and saw a tall man standing behind the other undertaker. He had a dark cloak. The idea of who this was popped into her mind. “Hades.”
“Hello, Darria. I wanted to thank you for saving Evangeline. The other objects must get to the people they are going to. Without them, we are no more. It’ll take a while for us to rebuild what we had.”