The Ballad of Aramei (The Darkwoods Trilogy 3)

I feel like I’m about to descend the steps right into Hell.

Chapter 11

WE MAKE OUR WAY down twelve concrete steps and stand inside a vast basement, which is almost as cluttered as the upstairs floor. Strangely enough, there are no elephants down here, but what I do see before me is equally disturbing.

Like something right out of movie, every wall of this enormous space is chock full from floor to ceiling with shelves of old books and dusty jars and bottles and shiny miniature trinket chests which I’m afraid to know what’s inside. Hanging from the ceiling are dozens of weird-looking necklaces that look to be made of bird skulls and animal vertebra and even a thin ropy twine with canine teeth dangling from it. Perched high on the wall over an old furnace is some kind of enormous headpiece made of bones and feathers and deer antlers. But what disturbs me more than anything is what’s inside some of those jars. I peer farther across the room with my new keener sight to see some kind of pinkish liquid in each jar, containing various animal and human body parts: a baby bird with bulging eyes, a pig’s foot, a human ear, a finger with a heavy gold ring still wrapped around its lower half—My skin is crawling all over and I just want to leave this place. Minna was bad enough by herself, but seeing all of this crazy, voodoo, serial killer stuff is over my tolerance threshold.

Minna catches her breath first and then motions for us to follow again where she leads us to the far corner of the room where there’s a giant free-standing wall safe big enough for two people to stand in, sitting against the wall. Her house shoes shuffle across the concrete floor eerily, like a zombie wandering aimlessly across a desolate room. She stops in front of the safe, shielding from us the secret numbered keypad set in the reinforced steel door. We watch her from behind, keeping a five-foot distance. Then a loud click resounds as the safe is opened.

We inch our way closer now, curious but leery about what’s inside.

“She probably keeps her family members in there,” I say to Isaac telepathically.

He squeezes my hand, agreeing.

When the door opens with absolutely no sound, the glint of glass reflecting off the overhead light above us flits across my vision. More jars. Dozens of them. But there’s something very different about what’s inside than those scattered about the shelves of the basement walls.

“What is that?” I say, pushing myself forward to peer more closely.

The jars are regular Mason jars with golden and silver lids twisted tightly at the top to keep the strange bluish-gray smoke floating around inside from escaping. A few contain reddish smoke.

Minna stops me in my tracks, putting up her hand.

“Stay on the other side of the line,” she demands in a distrusting, raspy voice.

I look down and the only ‘line’ I see is where there is a perfectly straight break running through the concrete floor. I step back once to put that line in front of my shoes.

“Don’t even think about it,” Minna says, snarling her already wrinkled nose at me. “The ones I reap will always belong to me.”

“The ones you reap?” Isaac says, pushing his way closer now, too. “Are those…Praverian souls?”

“You keep them in jars?” Nathan says with an air of disbelief.

“Well, if I could drink them, I would,” Minna says bending over and reaching down for something on the floor of the safe. “But all I can do is keep them.”

I think of Harry and of Genna right about now and I imagine them being like that…in there…and I just grow even more intolerant of this crazed, disgusting woman.

Minna raises herself and turns to face us holding another jar. This one is huge, a giant pickle jar full of what looks like nothing but dirt.

“This safe is protected,” Minna says, “so if you get any trite ideas, like breaking them all to set them free or something stupid like that, you’ll get one nasty surprise.” She lowers her eyes forebodingly and purses her lips.

Me, Isaac and Nathan glance briefly at one another.

Minna holds out the pickle jar and I, being closest, reach for it and take it into my hands. Her own hands are shaking, unable to hold the heavy weight of it any longer. I stand here holding the jar of dirt and just look at her like the lunatic she is, waiting for her to tell us what we’re supposed to do with it.

She points to a small silver table near me against the wall that looks like an examination table from a veterinarian clinic. I think that’s exactly what it is.

“Set it down over there,” she says and shuffles toward it.

I walk over and place the jar there while Minna flips another light switch and a beam shines down on the table from above.

Nathan and Isaac step up next to me and Isaac starts doing all the talking.

“Just so you know, if you tell us there’s a heart inside that jar and that it belongs to Davy Jones or something like that, I’ll just go ahead and put you out of your misery now.”

He’s not joking. Not in the slightest bit. I think he’s looking for any reason to ‘put her out of her misery’ after what she’s done to his brother.

Minna doesn’t answer. She just rolls her eyes, coughs a few times and goes to twist off the lid. “This is earth from Sorrento, Italy, my dear boy,” she says, laying the lid on the table. She reaches over to a small shelf beside her and takes an old, faded purple Crown Royal bag into her hand and loosens the drawstring. “One of few sites in this world where the earth can be collected—not just any dirt will work.”

“Want to elaborate?” Isaac says.

“Not really,” she says, reaching her hand into the jar. “Information wasn’t part of the deal and since you three are fraternizing with my enemy, I’ll die without the blood upstairs before I tell you anything.”

“Whatever,” Nathan says, slashing his hand in the space in front of him, “just get on with it already.”

Minna takes out several handfuls of the dirt and carefully places it inside the Crown Royal bag until it’s nearly full. Then she twists the lid back on the pickle jar and pulls the string on the bag to close it tight.

She hands it out to Isaac, letting it drop in the palm of his hand.

“The earth has already been prepared,” Minna says. “The trap needs to be placed outside in the air. Place a bit of it on the ground at four points: north, east, south and west in a space smaller than this basement room and keep all manmade objects out of the trap.”

“Just put the dirt on the ground?” I say, thoroughly confused about how that makes any sense.

“Four points. North. East. South. West. Outside only. About this big.” She walks around the basement, stopping at each point to show us that the ‘trap’ should be no bigger than about thirty feet equally across from each point. She stops to cough, this time spitting up a great deal of blood into her hand where she wipes it away on her robe.

I visibly shudder.

“All you have to do is get the Praverian to walk inside the trap,” she says holding out her hands, palms up. “Oh, and you might want to time this whole thing with your weather because if it happens to rain, the earth will be washed away and then you’re shit out of luck—worse if it happens to rain after you’ve already trapped it inside.”

“What happens then?” Isaac says.

“The line will be broken and you’ll set it free. Since its one gone Dark, it will probably kill you then because you’ve exposed it.”

“Okay, wait,” I say, pushing my way past Isaac and towards Minna in the center of the room. “Once we get it inside the trap, then what?”

A devilish smile breaks in Minna’s leathery brown face, her eyes twinkling with the same malicious tenor. “That wasn’t part of the deal, either.”

Isaac moves past me like wind and grabs the front of Minna’s robe, viciously pulling her body toward his. He leans down into her shrinking face, “Make it part of the deal, or the deal’s off!”

One side of Minna’s nose curls into a deep-set series of wrinkles, but the grin never fades from her mouth. When Isaac feels he has made his point clearly, he slowly releases her. Minna brings her hands up and pulls her robe closed again. Her hand is shaking more now, because regardless of her attitude, she is afraid of what Isaac will do to her.

“It’s not part of the deal…,” she says and Isaac starts to go for her again until he hears her next words, “…because I know you won’t take me with you.” Her eyes slant at Isaac as she sizes him up. “So back away from me.”

Isaac doesn’t move.

“My house is protected by a trap, as I’ve told you,” she goes on, “but it’s held together by me, not some spell or some special earth like you have there. By me. Because of what I am. That isn’t something that can be taught and it can’t be given away like dirt in a pickle jar. What you’re stuck doing is a temporary fix and has nothing to do with my willingness to screw you over and send you packing. No, I would love to join you and help you trap it, but since we all know you’re not going to tell me where you really live because you’re protecting this ‘Genna’, then you’re going to have to settle for the temporary fix.”

I let out a miserable, defeated breath. “You’re right,” I say, “you’re not coming with us, but it’s not because we’re protecting a Praverian. We told you that Genna disappeared. We don’t know where she is and we don’t care. All we care about is trapping the Dark one living among us.” I glance briefly at Nathan and add, looking right at Minna again, “The reason you can’t go is because of Nathan. It’s bad enough he’s bonding you’re wretched old ass to him; there’s no way in this life or the next we’ll let you know where he lives, too.”

“Good save, baby,” Isaac says to me in my mind.

I know Nathan appreciates it just by looking at the faint smile on his face.

Nathan jumps in now, “So, what do we do with it if you’re not there to reap it?”

Minna shakes her head gravely. “You’ll have to figure that out on your own, I’m afraid.”

Isaac’s hands ball into fists at his sides, but he doesn’t reach out for her this time because we all believe that she’s actually telling the truth.

“Isaac,” I say telepathically, careful not to look away from Minna, “Harry will know something. Let’s just leave it at this, go back and tell him what she told us and hopefully he’ll know what to do from there. If anything, he can reap it himself—that’s what they do anyway, they hunt each other.”

He nods subtly and turns to face Nathan at his right, apparently letting him in on our conversation. I notice Nathan nod his head, too, and then all three of us turn to face Minna again.

“Do you have a phone?” Isaac says to Minna, catching me off-guard.

She raises one brow and answers, “Not one of them fancy cellular phones you probably have, but yes, I have a phone.”

“Write down your number,” Isaac says, “and when we trap it, we’ll call you to come reap it.”