Tom Piccirilli - Emerald Hell

The music from the other end of the village drifted in and brought with it a sense of solace. Now Hellboy knew what Lament had meant when he said the music had charms. The songs were spells of protection. Just because Ma'am McCulver was easy on the eyes didn't mean she didn't know a little something about spell casting.

They moved into the house and he was a bit surprised to see it was sparsely decorated, without all the batwings, frogs' tongues, bubbling cauldrons, and magical potions of Granny Lewt's home.

More thunder groaned. He thought that whatever was going to happen would have to happen soon. That was just the way of these things. Ma'am McCulver gave him the look again and this time he stared back. There was a humanity and sadness in her eyes that worked its way into his chest.

Suddenly Sarah's face twisted as if in pain, and her back straightened. She hissed through her teeth and reached out to grip Lament's arm. He held onto her tightly.

"It's startin'," she said.

"Now?" Lament asked, then frowned that he'd say such an asinine thing. But it was a father's prerogative to be a little dopey when his kid was being born.

"Contractions. Damn, that felt odd. Not sure what I was ex-pectin' but I wasn't expectin' that."

Sometimes you were glad when you were proven right and sometimes you weren't. Hellboy thought, Yeah, the kid's got to come along just before the big beat down.

He said, "Take her to the bedroom. Stay with her." He told the pumpkin-headed kid, "You, think you could go get Doc Way-burn?"

The boy nodded eagerly and took off through the village.

Hellboy asked,"Which way do you think Jester will be coming from?"

"Most probably the creek," Ma'am McCulver said,pointing."Tt connects to the river. It isn't an easy pass, but if he remembers his way, that's how he'll come."

"It's getting dark and the storm's about the break over us. It's been my experience that that's when the trouble usually hits, I'm going to go see what I can see."

Torn by responsibility, Lament's eyes filled with concern. "You're gonna need my help."

He was ready to leave his girl. For the good of the rest of them. Jesus, the guy had heart. Hellboy said, "You stay here. Don't do anything crazy."

"You ain't seen crazy yet, son."

"Let me handle it."

"You? That's my true foe. Why'm I gonna let you handle it?"

"I've been doing this a long time. I can handle my self. You just watch over your girlfriend and your baby. That's what this is about, remember?"

With a bleak expression, Lament narrowed his eyes. Hellboy laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "Trust me."

"I do."

"Well, all right then."

All the tension seemed to snap from Lament then. "Don't forget, he's got the Ferris boys with him. Don't be fooled by their graceful features, they're killers."

"If it's one thing I'm not fooled by, it's graceful features."

"So you say."

Sarah, struggling to mask her pain, said, "The Ferris boys comin' here too?"

"Yeah, he roped them in."

They exchanged a glance heavy with meaning.

Fishboy Lenny went, "Fweep mwash. Wooph."

Ma'am McCulver said, "I wish to help but I'll be unable to do so." She stared out the window at the brush, the land, the homes. "He performed miracles here. He saved lives. He healed the ill, the crippled, the blind. He brought God down to us when the Lord did not listen to us. And since then the divine has not left us. The very land itself owes him. Do you understand?"

Hellboy shook his head. "No."

"My sisters and I have always been a part of the swamp. We can effect little change on its nature, on the things that it wants."

"Things that the swamp wants?"

"Yes. We help where we can but we are, like all, merely slaves to the greater forces about us."

He didn't quite understand, but enchantresses and goblin kings and trolls often talked like this. Even Lament did it, saying how the magic knew him. Sometimes you just had to nod and go forward on your own. Most of the time, in fact.

Hellboy started for the door but the granny witch stepped in front of him, blocking his way. She leaned forward and he expected maybe a kiss for his troubles, which would've been just fine under the circumstances.

"Hold still," she said.

"What is it?"

When her hands touched him he watched as a black spark skittered across his stone fist. There was nothing to it, he felt no different at all, but in the light of the setting sun he could see a shadow slowly making its way over the ridge of his knuckles. He didn't know what that meant but it couldn't be good. He plucked at it and couldn't touch it. Ma'am McCulver, though, snatched at it and somehow got a grip. She tugged at the small piece of darkness and tore it from Hellboy. She held it in her pale hand where it coursed across her fingers, tame and almost loving.

"I dreamt of shadows," Hellboy said, remembering.

"And they dream of you," she told him. "The night's nearly upon us. Jester will arrive soon."

"He's already here," Fishboy Lenny said. Then,"Fwashh fweep!"

Deeter checked the load in Plume Wallace's shotgun and said, "I hear music. Goddamn, that boy sure can play a jug. You listenin' to that?"

"I am," Duffy said, dragging the skiff up onto the creek bank. "It's some fine banjo-playin' and squeezeboxin' too."

"As good as Pa used to play."

"Better'n him, I reckon. Better'n him before his third or fourth tap of moon anyways. Pa always improved as the night went on."

Brother Jester, pressing through the palmettos, allowed the magics of the music to rake against him like barbed wire. He grunted, enjoying the raw ache, and said, "It's a powerful charm, a circle of peace and protection. Harmonies of the heavens, it lures even the angels astray."

The Ferris boys stared at one another, then down into the mud and around at the wet brush, looking for circles and seeing none. Deeter placed a hand on the sheathed Bowie knife at his belt, and handed the shotgun to his brother. Protection to them meant bear traps or a twelve-gauge, and they didn't see those either.

"What is, Preacher?" Deeter asked.

"The songs. Woven into the notes are charms and spells of celestial love. A granny witch has composed this, and they play it well under her direction."

"Sure is a catchy tune, right 'nuff."

Duffy still had Mrs. Hoopkins's cutting knife in his belt and he slid the handle aside for an easy draw. He said, "Some nice ladies' voices carryin' it just fine too, reelin' right along with the washboard. About time we stopped off for some companionship with the feminine persuadin'. I'm'a feelin' a might lonely after all this travellin'."

"And I smell hog cracklins!"

"They got themselves a right proper hootenanny goin' on. I say we get out of this rain and have us a terrible ruckus of fun."

The archangels pressed their hands to Jester's face. Like over-eager children they flew and returned with more and more images and knowledge that he couldn't fully understand. He dropped his chin to his chest as the shadows roamed about him, within and without, fluttering their great wings and confiding their tender testimonies, urging him onward. His life and death had been a trial before the eyes of man and God, and it still wasn't over. Would never be over. He needed the daughter that should have been his. He needed the grandchild that would share his burden. He deserved the family that had been denied him before.

He said, "It grows dark. Wait until the moon rises and then we'll visit ourselves upon our swamp neighbors. Until then, leave me."

"Leave you?" Deeter asked. "Just where in the hell we gonna go, preacher?"