Girl on a Tombstone

by Mia Strange

  Traveler escorted me over to the body in a formal arm in arm ritual. He raised my wrist and his black eyes met mine, and the night? Closed in.

  The stars blinked out.

  The moon passed behind black clouds, and hid there.

  The air filled with the scent of Dog Rose, the national flower of what was once Romania, the same flower Traveler grew in his railcar. The smell of rich, dark earth assaulted my nostrils. My eyelids grew heavy, and although I fought it, my eyes drifted closed.

  “Enough, Hale.”

  I jolted from the trance. What had just happened? Did I fall asleep? Impossible.

  I turned, searching for Eli. But not before I saw Traveler wiping his knife on a black piece of cloth that hung from his belt. And not before I saw the blood that was splashed onto the torso of the corpse.

  And ya know what?

  The pool of crimson looked like a lot more than three drops. I jerked out of Traveler’s grasp. My wrist stung, and I held it as I walked over to where Eli stood. He met me halfway.

  I stumbled into him. He caught me easily, and once more I found myself in his arms. I felt lightheaded. Dizzy. I saw stars. And they weren’t the ones up in the sky. A wave of nausea hit me. My belly wound roared to a new level of pain.

  “Are we done here?” Eli spit the words at Traveler. The blanket was pulled snug around me.

  “Of course.”

  “Contained?”

  “But of course.”

  Eli whistled loudly and I heard iron hoofs slamming against the station pavement. I turned my head toward the sound and watched as sparks flew in the darkness where the iron clipped the cement. Within moments, a large shadow loomed over us, and I recognized the shape of Onyx, Eli’s mechanical, clockwork horse. The one who had helped rescue me so many years ago.

  The giant piece of machinery was beautifully crafted, perfect in every detail. Smooth, metal plates flanked over the horse’s frame, creating a cascade of armor. His black mane and tail made from real horse hair, fluttered in the wind. The warm steam from his nostrils surrounded me, and I was cocooned in soft, damp warmth. The iron horse blinked his giant oval eyes, and I saw a flash of the pilot light that was always lit.

  Ready to fuel the fire that could be called forth to use as a weapon, Onyx was as lethal as he was beautiful. This automaton, one that encased both beauty and death, was truly one of Dr. Dark’s finest.

  “When you’re done, take the body out of here, as far away from the train as you can.” Eli glanced at the fading night sky. “If you have time, burn it.”

  Traveler nodded toward Onyx. “Thanks. I appreciate the horse. He’ll ease my load.”

  “And add to your speed.” Eli said. And I thought the statement odd. Onyx would add to anyone’s speed.

  A slight smile passed over Traveler’s face. He shrugged. “Sure.”

  Eli shook his head. “Just trying to help.”

  “Appreciated.” Traveler gave a nod, turned, and walked toward the body.

  I fought to stay conscious, as Eli carried me away from what I knew would be a gruesome scene. I knew in a few moments the scene would get far worse. Why? Because the conversation was about to begin.

  Traveler would hold his little chat, sometimes short, sometimes long, but they would all end the same way. End with his Athame plunged into the heart of the newly raised corpse.

  What secrets they revealed would never be spoken of again. Traveler Hale made sure of it. Always. No exceptions.

  In a morbid sort of way, it was humane. Being Raised was a torture all its own. Corpses were prone to madness when the realization set in that they were dead, and they would stay that way. Being Raised was not a free pass to go on living. Quite the contrary.

  You see, their death clock was ticking, for a second time.

  With Hale’s necro—magic, they would relive the agony that surrounded their death. All the violence would return. All the pain. All the memories. Even those lucky, rare few that saw their passing in a peaceful light, cried when they realized a second chance was not possible. A second chance was never possible. A corpse was a corpse. And unless it was a zombie, it would soon wither and die. Even Traveler’s skills couldn’t bind the truly dead to the earth for long.

  Traveler was able to interject a certain amount of calm and mercy, but even with his magic, he could only do so much.

  And being raised twice? Well, if the screams the first time around were any indication. . .

  Traveler made sure it could never happen. Talk about your proverbial last nail in the coffin. And Hale? Well, he was the guy with the big—ass hammer.

  What did that plaque say that we found in the charred ruins of Disneyland in what was once California? Oh yeah. Dead men tell no tales.

  Well, the reality was that tales could be told. But with Traveler Hale on the scene, they would only be told once. They would then be sealed into eternity with the help of a wicked knife as black as Traveler’s magic.

  I watched the sky as Eli carried me away from the death scene. With each long, sure step, he carried me away from Traveler Hale and his creepy spider. Away from his black handled Athame. Away from the soon to be raised corpse.

  I was sick. I was tired. I was grateful.

  The stars were back in the sky, the blood was behind me, and I was in Elijah Dark’s arms. Ya know? For a night as messed up as this, things might be looking up.

  20

  That glass—half—full moment lasted all of two seconds. That’s when the horrific screams started. Racing through the night, the sound caught up with us, encasing us in echoes of human pain. The wails put a pit in my stomach and pulled at my heart.

  I felt Eli’s fingers dig into my side as he quickened his step. “Block it out,” he said.

  “I wish,” I whispered. I tried to cover my ears. I opted for pulling the blanket over my head.

  I tried to count the shadows of the railcars as we ran along the train. Soon we would be at Eli’s cars at the front. By then the screams would stop, right? Or at the very least, once inside I wouldn’t hear them anymore.

  Suddenly, I saw shoes running beside us. High top red Converse, with dried zombie—goo on the toes. Jin.

  “Geesh, Skye. Don’t you walk anywhere anymore?”

  I pulled the blanket off my head. “And you’re not in bed why?”

  “Jin. Not now.” Eli shifted my weight and slowed his walk. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “Hard to sleep with all the screaming. Tell me,” she lowered her voice. “Is ‘The Creature of the Night’ involved?”

  “Air quotes, Jin? Really?” I pulled the blanket back over my head.

  “Traveler,” said Eli. “He has a name. I would take it as a personal favor if you would use it.”

  “Come on Eli, we already have you. You’re the reigning ‘Dark One.’ Not a lot of room for two.” She laughed. “Get it? Dark One?”

  “Air quotes again?” I asked from under the blanket. Eli didn’t answer, but I felt his sigh. I’d take that as a yes.

  “Really, Eli, I’m just saying that it is beyond strange that after two years—”

  “Xeroderma pigmentosum. There’s a name for it, Jin. A disease. And a bad one at that. You know this. Sunlight is intolerable for him.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Jin. Not tonight. I’m with Skye on this. Go to bed.”

  “Fine.” She stopped, stomped her foot and clapped her hands. I pulled the blanket back just in time to see Kong leap onto her shoulder. He had part of an orange rind in his fingers. “But tonight? The monkey stays with me. I’m so not sleeping alone with The Night—”

  “Jin.” Eli cut her off as he glared at the monkey who held what was left of his last prized orange. I caught a whiff of the citrus scent and my mouth watered.

  “Okay, okay.” Jin backed down. “With Traveler Hale running around making things scream and go all, “Bump in the night.”

  “Don’t your fingers ever cramp doing that?” I said. “Or is that j
ust too much to wish for.” Jin stuck her tongue out at me. Kong mimicked her. Nice.

  “Fine,” said Eli. “Just go.” He nodded his head toward her graffiti tagged railcar that was behind us. “Now. Please. And lock your door.”

  A shadow passed over Jin’s delicate features as she lowered her head. And then? It was gone. Eli saw it, too. What was that look? Disappointment? Hurt feelings?

  She brushed her dark hair out of her face. The black ant encased in her bracelet stretched and moved. The red berry spun in circles. Her emotions had animated the insect and its lucky berry. I had seen this before. We both had. She turned and walked away without another word.

  Eli stopped and watched her go. “Jin,” he called out. She stopped and turned back around. Her eyes glistened with tears. “Make sure your wards are in place.”

  “Duh.” Blinking hard, she lifted her chin a notch.

  “You took your drink, right?” All three of us glanced at the clocks above us at the same time.

  “Double duh.” She put her hands on her hips and tried for that urban girl attitude of hers. It wasn’t working.

  “Okay,” Eli nodded. “Good.”

  She turned to go once more. “And Jinghua?” Eli used her full name. It stopped her short. She turned to face us once more. I could see she fought back tears.

  “You did great tonight. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

  “Really?” she whispered.

  “You were brave and strong and you? You saved Skye tonight.”

  Eli did not have to coach me. Because you know what? She sure as hell did. I nodded. “You did, Jin. You so did.”

  “Well. Pilot helped.” She looked down and kicked at an invisible rock. “In his own annoying way.”

  “True,” Eli agreed. “But you were first on scene. You did a kickass job.”

  A smile stole across her face, and Kong, as if on cue, clapped his hands and squealed.

  “Well,” Jin swiped at a tear she didn’t want us to see, “thanks. And, um, night, guys. Feel better, Skye.”

  “Night, Jin,” I said softly. “Sleep tight. And—”

  “I know, I know,” she said. “Don’t let the zombies bite.”

  I smiled at her. “Thank you, for, well, for everything.”

  “And Jin?” Eli said. “When the time is right, and it won’t be until we leave this place if you get my meaning—”

  “Okay,” she said warily.

  “When the time is right, and again, that time is not now, but when it is, I think slime—lime—green would look really good on Pilot.”

  Jin squealed, raced over to Eli, flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him in a massive hug. I was mashed in the middle. My ribs screamed in protest.

  “Payback is wicked fun,” Jin giggled.

  “It is.” Eli winked.

  “Well,” I gasped clutching my side. “I’m having no fun.”

  Kong lost his footing and ended up anchored on my head. I couldn’t catch a breath. Thankfully Jin let go, planted a kiss on my cheek, and grabbed Kong who took not only a few strands of my hair with him, but one of my copper tube beads, too. And all before I could yell, “you little klepto.”

  They scampered away into the night with Jin leaving a trail of laughter behind her.

  “You saw that, right?” I struggled to sit up and picked a piece of orange rind out of my hair.

  “The copper bead? Yeah,” Eli smiled and his dimple flashed. “I saw that.”

  I sank back into his arms. “Well you can just replace it then.” I shook my head. I wanted to laugh. But it just hurt too much.

  Together we passed under the massive shadow of Pilot’s Ship. The Dark Destiny was latched with great claw—like clamps that gripped the top of the railcars it spanned. Thick braided lines tethered the craft to the train by wrapping around a series of massive iron cleats that had been welded onto the side of the cars.

  The beautiful airship stretched the length of four railcars. Its gold and black canvas striped balloon was fully inflated with helium from our last show.

  Helium, almost as rare and as valuable as gold, was another secret of the Academy. Only Dark knew how to mix the volatile gas with aether to make it stable. Only Dark knew where the last reserves in the US lay hidden. And he wasn’t telling.

  The glow of soft lantern light from inside the ship’s cabin streamed out into what was left of the night. I could just make out Pilot’s silhouette through one of the mahogany framed portholes. His feet were propped up on a table, and his head was bowed low on his chest. He didn’t move. Not one muscle.

  “Pilot sleeps with his airship tonight,” Eli said. “A good thing I think.”

  “I think so, too. He always sleeps best when he’s bobbing in the air.” A smile tugged at my lips as I remembered our golden boy who brought down an army of the dead on my behalf. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Was it possible that it was just tonight?

  Exhaustion hit me, and as we approached Eli’s cars which were located just behind our great engine, my knife wound suddenly flared to life. I doubled over and gasped.

  “We’re here, Skye. Eli said. “We’re here. Hang in. I’m gonna sit you down and get the doors.”

  I nodded, too tired to speak. Eli knelt, and as I slid from his arms, he gently leaned me against one of the locomotive’s giant wheels. He tucked a strand of my sticky hair behind my ear. “You’re going to be fine,” he said.

  This time he met my eyes.

  This time I almost believed it.

  I looked up from the shadows at the looming hulk of The Dark Horse. If it wasn’t for the moon, the massive locomotive would have melted into the darkness. Every piece of metal and iron and steel was jet black, and polished until the engine gleamed. The bell on the very top swung in the wind, but not enough for it to ring.

  What have you brought me tonight, Elijah Dark? A little playmate, I think.

  The sinister voice of Darius floated on a slipstream of evening air and blew all around us. And damn if the bell on top of The Dark Horse, didn’t start to chime.

  Darius invaded our minds, a smooth demon trick that we were all used to by now. He couldn’t touch us. Not physically anyway. Still. It was freaky.

  “Ignore him,” Eli said. “Just tune him out.”

  “Ignore who?” I smiled up at him. After my night? Even Darius couldn’t scare me. I mentally pushed the mute button on the demon.

  Or so I thought.

  Oh, little playmate. Come in and play with me. And bring your daggers three, come in and bleed with me. Darius twisted and distorted the children’s song my grandmother used to sing to me. As he softly sang the verse, my flesh, even under the blanket, rose with goose bumps.

  Okay. I lied. Damn right, I was scared of Darius.

  “Enough.” Eli said the words quietly, but there could be no mistaking the threat in his voice.

  Darius sighed and the engine’s bell swung hard, this time looping all the way around the curved iron rail that held it in its place. The massive iron ball slammed hard against the bell casing, stinging my eardrums. Then? In a blink, in a single beat of the heart, all was quiet.

  I heard the double doors sliding open. I looked up and watched Eli trace the iron horseshoe with his fingers to test the wards. Dru had attached the protective talisman to each of our railcars before she left. She had filled the iron shoes with her Hoodoo magic, letting it spill out, surrounding our doorways and railcars with protection.

  Just watching the ritual made me feel better. I wouldn’t let myself think about when the iron shoes ran dry. Dru would be back before that happened . . . wouldn’t she?

  Maybe not, whispered Darius.

  “Eli?” I said.

  “Mm?”

  “About Darius.”

  “What about, Darius?”

  What about, Darius? The demon chimed in, if only in my head. Or did I imagine it? That was the trouble with Darius. He was a trickster. A deadly one.

  “Well,” I continued shaking Darius
from my mind like cobwebs on a broom. “With him living right next door. I’m just saying. There goes your neighborhood.”

  Eli once again collected me in his arms and climbed up the steps onto the running board. “You got that right,” he said without a smile as he stepped through the doors. With his foot, he kicked at a thick line of woven hemp that was hooked up to a pulley system made of hammered brass. Without further assistance, the doors slid shut. And with a harsh, echoing clank, the outside world, along with Darius, was sealed away. At least for the remainder of the night.

  Gone was the low, seductive voice of a demon. Gone were the fading screams of a corpse. Gone was everything but Eli and the soft hum of magic that flowed between us. I might have relaxed, and enjoyed the mingling of our magic. I might have, if I hadn’t made the mistake of looking around.

  Soft amber light from a series of lanterns flooded the railcar. I was surrounded by glass test tubes that twisted and snaked in all different directions. Lidded jars of all shapes and sizes held strange and odd things, floating and bobbing in clear liquids.

  “Tell me those are not chicken feet,” I whispered. Come on. Didn’t I get enough of that from Phil? “And that?” I pointed. That is not a pig’s nose.”

  Eli didn’t say a word. We passed the jar in question. It was a pig’s nose.

  Pestles and mortars were everywhere. Powder, as thick as flour, coated the tabletops, spilling onto the floor. Volumes and volumes of books were left open, their spines splintered and cracked. A two—foot model of a Tesla coil sat on a bench. Heavy scales forged of brass, sat in the corner on a scarred, distressed table. The curved trays sat at different angles, suspended in air, weighing a flaky substance that could be anything.

  Arsenic? Wolfsbane? Sulfur? Pancake mix?

  Think I’m kidding? Pancakes were Eli’s favorite food. He was always tweaking the recipe.

  Dog—eared pages of massive books were smudged and creased, and in some cases, torn completely out. They littered the floor and flew around Eli’s ankles as he passed through the room.