Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(45)

"Thank you, miss." He scooped up the food and his new possessions and dashed for the door as if he were afraid I'd change my mind.

I locked the door behind him and considered what to do. I didn't know where Seth, Gus and Lincoln were, precisely. They could be anywhere in the city. And Cook was in no state to head out. It was up to me.

Lincoln would be furious if I went alone. So I wouldn't go alone. I'd find myself a bodyguard. And I knew just the place where hundreds, if not thousands, could be found, if one were a necromancer.





CHAPTER 10


The glow of my lantern wasn't bright enough to penetrate the fog that blanketed the cemetery grounds. Its ghostly form swirled about my trouser legs as I padded over the dense layer of fallen leaves and picked my way between graves. It wasn't easy to avoid tree roots and headstones, which seemed to emerge from nowhere, but I managed not to fall over or get lost. I knew my way to my mother's grave, and Gordon Thackery's wasn't too far from there.

It wasn't so much the lack of visibility that stretched my nerves to breaking point but the silence. There was no wind, and the fog dampened all sounds. If anyone followed me, I wouldn't be able to hear them. Even my own footsteps were deadened by the fog and damp leaves.

Before I'd become fully aware of my powers as a necromancer, I would never have ventured into a cemetery at night for fear of ghouls and demons, but now that I knew I could control spirits, that fear had vanished. I was perhaps safer in a place where I could call up the dead than I was anywhere else. All I needed was a name and a body, and I was surrounded by names on headstones and bodies in graves.

But I only wanted one. Gordon had proved himself to be a good soul, and he'd offered to help again if we needed him. I hoped he hadn't changed his mind.

I recognized the large tree that the grounds keeper had sat under. Gordon's gravestone was nearby, the earth still bare from his reburial.

"Gordon Moreland Thackery's spirit, can you hear me?" My voice was swallowed by the fog. I cleared my throat and tried again, louder. "I summon Gordon Thackery here to speak to me."

A smoky wisp shot out of the fog, straight at me. I dropped the lantern and fell backward with a yelp.

"Are you all right?" the ghostly figure asked. "I am sorry, Miss Charlie, I have no control over my speed when I arrive."

"Gordon! It's so nice to see you again."

He smiled. "I would help you up…"

I stood and picked up my lantern. "Are you, er, well?"

He chuckled. "My afterlife goes well, yes. And you?" He looked me up and down. "How long has it been since I was last here?"

"A few days. I need your help again, but only if you're up to it. I don't like disturbing you like this."

"I would be glad to help if I can." The misty spirit spun round. "Where is your man?"

"Don't let Mr. Fitzroy hear you call him my man. He's my employer. He's not here tonight, which is why I need you. I want you to act as a sort of guard for me. I have to visit Mr. Lee's opium den. The captain is there, and this might be our only chance to find him. Unfortunately, Mr. Fitzroy and his men are out looking for him elsewhere, and I only got the message from Mr. Lee now. I'm afraid if I miss this opportunity, it could be some time before we find him again."

"It's rather brave of you to undertake the task alone."

"I won't be alone, I'll have you."

He frowned. "Lee's is not a place for ladies."

"Thank you, Gordon, but I'm not a lady and I've been in far more disreputable places, I'm sure. I lived on the streets for five years."

His lips formed an O. He nodded. "Very well. If you're up for an adventure then so am I."

"Excellent! Shall we get started?"

We both glanced at his grave. Last time, his body had already been above ground. This time it had to break free of a coffin and dig through several feet of earth. "I wish I'd thought it through a little more," I said. "Do you think you can manage?"

"Let's see." The mist swirled and dove down into the grave, disturbing nothing, not even the nearby leaves at my feet.

I waited. Nothing happened. I set the lantern down near the head of the grave and flipped the hood of my old cloak back. Still nothing happened. It must be too much of a task. He had to somehow push off the coffin lid with all that soil pressing down on it. He might have superior strength, but—

The earth pulsed. I rested a hand on the headstone and leaned closer to get a better look. The soil was definitely moving, as if something underneath pushed it up. Come on, Gordon, you can do it.

Dirt trickled down from the center of the grave as it rose upward to form a mound. Then a hand punched through. For the second time that night, I yelped and fell backward. I scrambled to my feet again and watched, fascinated, as Gordon pulled himself free of his grave. Any innocent bystanders would have run screaming from the cemetery, but I was transfixed.

When he finally stepped free, he smiled at me. "I'm a little filthier," he said, inspecting himself. "How do I look otherwise?"

Like he'd decayed more in the short space of time since I'd last seen him. His eyes and cheeks had sunken further and his skin now sported a tinge of green, although to be fair, it was difficult to see in the poor light. "Er…like a dead man."