The Finding

Part 13 Jonathan

Eli was frantic.  This was the first time he was truly scared, the first time fear had consumed him to this extent. His body burned with rage.  His fists clenched. His nails dug into the skin of his palms.  His face was flushed and his heart was beating erratically.  This was the fastest it had ever been, the fastest his heart had ever raced.  Thump. Thump.  Thump.  This mundane sound repeated over and over again, seemingly so normal, constant began driving him crazy.  He took in deep, shallow breaths to try to slow down the beat.  It was impossible.

Darcy was dead.  He had never been very fond of her, as she typically creeped him out and almost never said a word to him, so it wasn't much of a loss.  However, she had been nothing but cordial. She stayed out of the way and didn't pry, plus she had served him for three years.  He felt some sort of guilt.  Eli felt responsible for whomever he held in his household.  

Darcy's death wasn't just any ordinary death.  It was a fairy death. When fairies died their souls were taken and for a brief moment in time they try to cling to what is left of their mortal lives and in doing so try to take the souls of those around them.  They consume others by staring into the windows of the soul; their eyes.  When Darcy tried to consume Katherine, Eli was petrified.  If she was gone it would all crumble, everything they had worked for, it would all be for nothing.  He couldn't let that happen.  She needed to be safe.

He had locked her up within reason.  It would be too traumatic to have her help in disposing of the body.  He had to do it himself.  The village cemetery wasn't far, only an hours ride from their manor. He had question looks form the owners but they usually didn't ask about any of the affairs, not that he had been there often, but there had recently been quite a few deaths in the family.  The moritian helped him conclude the death.  Though she suffered multiple stab wounds in the chest and removal of the limbs in other areas, that wasn't what killed her.  It had been a venomous dust-like powder that shut down her body.  Someone had brushed it upon her wounds to get it into her system.

Jonathan, the grave digger somehow looked different.  It was an aura he gave off.  Johnny was usually an outspoken, but somewhat cheerful man.  Sure, he still had his gruff, red beard and thick northern accent that was almost incomprehensible. Somehow though he was different.  He had this wild look in his eyes that made Eli suspicious. 

Eli realized that John was up to something the moment he saw his hands.  There was a thin coating of silver brushed across his fingertips.  It was streaky and barely holding on, as if it had desperately been wiped off. Usually those who had it flaunted hit.  He made a deal with a witch.  Witches typically cost very much to make bargains with and they seal their deals with a handshake of silver powder.  Those who make deals typically wear it around proud, often not washing their hands in order show off their wealth and Jonathan wasn't typically one to shy from a boasting. Whatever it was, John was guilty of something.  

He grasped Jonathan by the collar and help him up.  "What business have you with witches?"

"I-I havent done anything" he said desperately choking. Eli began digging the knife into Jonathan's arm.

"Yes you have, it all across your fingertips.  Now, you are lying to me, and I don't find I'm very fond of liars, so its better if you tell the truth."

"I well they made me!  They said they would kill me if I didn't curse her."

"Who? What?"

"The men.  They told me they would kill me if I didn't have Darcy killed!"

"Who made you?"

"Her soldiers."  Suddenly Jonathan's eyes dimmed to a black silk color and began pouring a dark liquid from his eyes and then dripping onto Eli's hand.  It burned his skin.  Gasping, he thrust him onto the floor and fled the scene.