Emerald Hell by Mike Mignola Read Free Book Online Page A

guy who took his troubles out on a bunch of girls . . . well, he could handle it.
    Granny Lewt said, “There’s someone else out there you gotta watch out for.”
    â€œThere always is,” Hellboy sighed. “Would that be this Lament character?”
    As she nodded, Granny’s blanket slid from around her shoulders and he saw the clean edge of scar tissue to her amputated arm. “He got power, that boy, but he been away in the world a long time. He used to preach the gospel in a golden voice dazzling as the rising sun. But I don’t know which side’a this thing he likely to come down upon. He got a history with the walking darkness, he does.”
    Hellboy wondered why anybody ever tried to give him advice when, in the end, nobody knew a goddamn thing anyway.
    â€œYou know where this village is supposed to be?”
    â€œNobody knows except them that’s got to know.”
    â€œWell, that’s helpful. So, any idea where I should start?”
    â€You walk southeast to the bottoms,” Granny said. “Follow the road, bear to the left. You’ll find a skiff and stobpole there.”
    â€œA what and a what?”
    â€œA boat and a pole to push it yonder into the sweet blackwater.” Granny Lewt appraised him and said, “For a worldly—for a beyond the worldly—big critter like you, you ain’t so well-versed in our ways.”
    â€œLady, this place isn’t all that special except it’s a lot greener and more humid than most.” He peered into her withered face, as deep as he figured he could go, and asked, “You think those girls and their babies will be all right?”
    â€œI pray so, but there ain’t no way to know until it’s their time for the chillun to come out in the world. I tell you this though, that Brother Jester get to whisperin’ at ’em, or he toss out a shadow upon ’em, he gonna cuss ’em fer sure. They be born in some bad way. There’s a thousand years’a half-gnawed bones hidden in them briar patches and under that morass. You go in alone with no guide, you ain’t gonna ever come home again.”
    â€œYou people are starting to freak me out a little,” Hellboy admitted. “How about if you save the creepy speeches for the next guy who comes down the road and just let me get on with it?”
    â€œI’d tell you to wait until mornin’—a lotta men been lost in that slough at high noon, much less at night—but we both know the minutes is melting away like a slivered candlestick. You gonna need somethin’ to help you on your way.”
    She rooted around in her blankets for a moment and he expected her to come up with a charm or amulet, the way the witches usually did. But instead she just got out a pouch of tobacco and started to clean and refill her pipe with her one hand. Her wrinkled, liver-
spotted fingers were still extremely nimble. She tamped the tobacco in, stuck the pipe between her teeth again, lit a match against the underside of her chair, and set to smoking once more. Hellboy waited.
    Granny Lewt wheeled herself to the fire and filled a wooden bowl of stew. It steamed and hissed and popped, and Hellboy wondered how anybody could eat such a meal. He was hungry and started to wonder if he was ever going to get any edible chow this side of the Mason–Dixon line.
    â€œHere,” she said, “have some supper.”
    â€œThanks anyway.”
    â€œYou gotta eat it.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYou gotta get some into you so’s you can git about in the bog with my eyes and ears.” She placed it on her lap and rutted about for a spoon. Stuck it in the bowl and proffered it to him.
    He blinked at her. “Your eyes and ears?”
    â€œIt’ll help you in your hour of need.”
    â€œLady, the only need I’ve got right now is to get the hell out of here.”
    â€œListen up now, boy, Granny Lewt