Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby #3)(74)

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it?” said Jenny calmly. “Not being able to make contact.” She reached down and easily plucked the blade out of Morwen’s grasp. She shifted the weapon from one hand to the other, regarding the dark metal curiously. The solidity of the thing sat at odds with her translucent fingers.

Morwen pushed herself up with great difficulty, swaying to an unsteady slouch on one knee. The fight had left the nixie, but not her fury. Her dress was torn and she had plaster ground into her hair. Her voice was hollow. “Just get it over with.”

“It is over,” said Jenny. She dropped the blade onto the carpet behind her with a soft thump.

Morwen narrowed her eyes. “Don’t waste your pity on me, ghost,” she spat.

“I won’t,” said Jenny. “Nor any fear nor fury. I’m done with you, Morwen. My friends, however . . . are not. Mr. Jackaby?”

Jackaby stepped forward. He unwound the chain from his hand as he moved around toward Morwen.

“Done with me?” Morwen spat. “You only exist because of me, ghost! You’re nothing but a ripple in my wake, you worthless trash. I made you!”

“You didn’t make me,” Jenny said gently. “I made myself, and I will continue to make myself forever after. What you did to me? That made you. It made you a murderer and it made you a monster. They buried the girl you killed, Morwen. I’m the spirit you couldn’t kill. You have no power over me.”

Jackaby was approaching with the chain held taut. Morwen snarled and tried to swipe it out of his grasp. Jackaby managed to keep hold of one end as the other spun and coiled around Morwen’s wrist. “This binding is made of Tibetan sky-iron,” he said as she tried to pull away. “Very pure. Very sacred. This may sting a little.”

“What?” Morwen cried. “It burns! Get it off!”

The more she struggled and fought, the tighter the chain wound. The links slipped together with a series of quiet clicks, forming a seamless band.

Morwen gritted her teeth and snarled. Her gaze drilled into my employer, and her fingers were tensed like talons. She was shaking with anger. “Why won’t my hands work?” she demanded.

“Because of the work you would put them to,” Jackaby replied. “You’re bound by my will until I give you leave to go.”

He inspected the pouch at her side and found a single remaining hex-acorn within it. She growled as he relieved her of the trinket, but she could do nothing to stop him as he tucked it away into one of the myriad pockets of his coat. Behind him a piece of plaster the size of a dinner plate slipped from the demolished wall and landed atop the debris with a crash.

Mayor Spade stood watching from the ruined bathroom, looking rather like the bathtub had flattened him instead of his wife. He opened his mouth and closed it. He stared at Morwen. The damage done to his home was slight compared to the ruins that had just been made of the poor man’s life.

“Mr. Spade,” I said. “I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

The mayor only hung his head. “I have been a terrible fool.”

“Yes,” Jackaby said gently. “Yes, you have. Well then, I think we’re finished here. Sorry about the mess, Mayor. Let me know if you need a good contractor for that wall, I’m happy to call in a favor or two. Don’t trouble yourself, Bertram. We’ll see ourselves out.”





Chapter Thirty-Five


The mayor’s estate was not the only property to have suffered that day; Jackaby’s house at 926 Augur Lane looked as though it had barely survived a war. The damage around us felt raw and personal as we stepped back inside. I tried not to think about the fact that the worst of it was still nothing compared to the carnage that would ensue if the earth and Annwyn became one.

Toby skittered into the foyer and wound several circles around Charlie’s legs. Even Douglas flapped up onto the bookshelf and bobbed happily from one foot to the other. We had a lot of work ahead of us, but ransacked or not, it was a relief to be home.

“What are you going to do with her?” I asked. Jackaby still had Morwen bound with his chain of sky-iron. She had said nothing since we had left the mayor’s estate.

“We’re going to ask her a few questions,” said Jackaby. “We’ll start with finding out where she stowed her brother’s machine and then move on to the rest of her family. It may take time. This chain prevents her from actively fighting against me, but it can’t compel her to cooperate any more than that. For now, we will simply keep her out of trouble.” Morwen narrowed her eyes but said nothing. “The cellar is still the most secure chamber on the property. It was originally meant to keep undesirables out, of course, but it should serve just as well to keep this one in until we’re ready to deal with her.”

“It was originally meant to store jam,” said Jenny, “but in light of our current state of affairs, I suppose it’s a good thing you renovated.”

“Mr. Barker, would you be so kind as to see our guest secured soundly in the cellar?” Jackaby commended his prisoner into Charlie’s care, and Charlie led her off through the house and toward the back of the building. Before they turned the corner, Morwen shot one last acid glare at Jenny. Jenny did not return the woman’s venom, but simply watched them with a blank expression until they had stepped out of sight.