Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby #3)(35)

The chair slammed backward onto the floor as Jackaby stood up. He stepped forward until he was inches away, face-to-face with the pale man. “Time’s up.”

The sky was growing lighter by the second. Pavel was breathing heavily. An unhealthy slate gray was darkening his pallid complexion. “You want to know about Howard Carson? He’s dead!” Pavel grunted. “Carson is long dead.”

Jackaby looked at Jenny, and then back to Pavel. “Howard Carson is dead? You’re certain?”

“Yes, damn it! Howard Carson is dead!”

“You’re running out of shadows, Pavel, and I don’t think Miss Cavanaugh is satisfied with that answer, do you?”

“I did it myself!” he roared. “I ripped out his throat and I drained him. The bastard had it coming.” Sores were beginning to break his skin, and the room smelled of sulfur. “You should thank me!” His head lolled at a sickening angle toward Jenny. “He abandoned you to go trotting after that strumpet, and he never looked back. She cut you open the very next day while the disloyal rake stayed on with us.”

Jackaby closed the curtain, and in the sudden darkness Pavel sagged like a broken marionette. Jenny flickered. “No. Y-You’re lying. That’s not what happened.” Her voice shook. She was upright, chin held high, but then in the same moment she was on the ground. Her contours flickered. Her elegant pearlescent dress was now torn and darkness was spreading across her chest. The anger had left her. She looked sad. She looked confused. She looked like she was dying and she did not know why.

“The council doesn’t leave loose ends,” Pavel panted. “That’s all you ever were. A loose end.” Wheezing breaths became a ragged laugh.

I felt the blood rising to my head. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to wipe that wretched half grin off his face. Suddenly the room was spinning. I felt a hand on my shoulder, but whose I could not say. The edges of my vision darkened and I leaned against the shelf, my fingers stumbling over the broken half-brick. I blinked.

Wind whipped through the torn curtains in front of me and I found myself kneeling on the floor. There was glass everywhere. Where had it come from? I felt nauseous.

“Abigail?” Jenny’s voice sounded muffled and distant.

Hands shook my shoulders and I looked up into Jackaby’s cloud gray eyes. “Rook. Rook!”

I whipped around. Cordelia Hoole was still crouched behind the desk. Finstern lay on the bench, but Pavel was gone.

Panic shot through me. “What happened?” I managed to say.

Jackaby’s expression was furious. “Hold still,” he said, staring into my eyes intensely. At length he stood and helped me into the chair. “She is herself again,” he said. “What do you remember, Miss Rook?”

I tried to make sense of what was happening. “I don’t know! I just—he was talking about Jenny and I was furious, and then I felt dizzy and . . .” I took a deep breath. “Where is Pavel? What happened?”

Jackaby and Jenny looked at each other. Their expressions were not reassuring. Jackaby stepped over to the window. Glass crunched under his shoes as he looked through the broken frame into the garden. “He’s gone,” he said.

“What was that?” Jenny asked, looking at me nervously.

“She shows signs of a phrenic mutuality. The aftereffects of possession.”

I glanced at Jenny. “There are aftereffects?”

“Of course there are aftereffects!” Jackaby pulled the curtain shut again over the shattered hole and crunched back across the room. “Two spirits are not meant to occupy the same mind. If you and I were to wear the same pair of trousers at once, what do you think would happen?”

I swallowed. “They would stretch out all wrong?”

“That’s an optimistic outcome. How do you feel?”

“A little weak about the seams, now that you mention it.” I took a deep breath. “Jenny, we need to tell him.”

Jenny nodded. “Tell me what?” Jackaby looked back and forth between us. “You wouldn’t. You didn’t. Of course you did. What were you thinking?!”

“Oh, Abigail! I’m so sorry! I had no idea,” said Jenny.

“We only tried it once,” I said. “Well, a couple of times, but not for very long. She was making such marvelous progress, sir!”

“Have you felt any other dizzy spells? Blackouts?”

“No, I—” I caught myself. “Well, yes, actually. Right before Finstern turned on his machine, and maybe once earlier, in the office.”

“This is all my fault.” Jenny looked mortified.

“And how did you feel, right before it came over you?”

“I was angry,” I said. “He was laughing, and it just made me furious.”

Jackaby considered. “You may be experiencing Jenny’s emotions alongside your own. If she entered your mind, then she may have left a part of herself behind. Argh! How could you be so foolish? Both of you! Spiritual possession is inexpressibly risky and unpredictable. This is absolutely unacceptable!”

“It won’t happen again,” I said. “But I still don’t fully understand it. I had a dizzy spell—but that doesn’t explain how Pavel broke free.”

Jenny answered gently. “Pavel didn’t, sweetheart.”