The Empty Grave (Lockwood & Co. #5)(90)

‘Well, I’m not actually here, am I?’ the ghost said. ‘I’m still in my precious jar, sitting in a brightly lit laboratory storeroom below Fittes House, surrounded by cylinders of stolen essence, with one or two rather faint-hearted scientists pottering about. In fact … hold on … yes, I’ve just scared one of them half to death by showing him the Happy Farmhand. And all while talking to you. Is that clever?’ The youth grinned. ‘I rather think it is.’

‘But how did you—?’

‘Lucy.’ Lockwood shuffled alongside me, the others close behind. They were peering at the youth in bafflement. For a moment I couldn’t understand their confusion, then I realized what it was: they could hear him.

‘This is the skull,’ I said.

Lockwood’s mouth was open. ‘The skull’s … spirit? He … he looks different.’

The youth scowled. ‘Yeah? You look just the same. I was banking on frostbite taking a few of your fingers, or even your nose. Here’s hoping something else has dropped off that I don’t know about. If not, I’ll be sorely disappointed.’

Lockwood stared. ‘Does he always talk like this?’

‘No. Usually he’s worse. See what I have to put up with?’

‘Oh, she likes it,’ the youth said. ‘She can’t get enough of it. I cheer her up no end.’

‘Cheer me up now,’ I said, ‘and tell me briefly how you’re here – and what’s on the other side of the gate. We’re going to come across now … if we can.’

‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ the ghost said. ‘The lab technicians have just gone for a coffee break. I think they were getting tired of all my faces. And the last Other Side shift won’t be back for another hour. Well, I say it’s not a problem. That’s assuming you’ve got enough energy to survive the crossing.’ It cast its eyes over us. ‘Let’s see – hangdog, lacklustre, clearly dead on your feet. George in particular looks like he’d fall to pieces if you took off that cape.’

George drew himself up. ‘Hey, nothing’s falling off me. Just a bit stiff, that’s all.’

‘Yeah, sure. In ideal shape for a finale.’

‘Don’t lump me in with these lightweights,’ Kipps said.

‘And Kipps …’ The scrawny youth stared at him. ‘How are you feeling, then?’

Kipps blinked. ‘Me? Great. Why?’

‘No reason.’ The ghost’s image flickered out, then returned to cast contemplative eyes around the empty room. ‘I’ll keep it short: Sir Rupert Gale brought me to Fittes House to be “assessed” or “processed” or chucked in the furnaces, whatever they want to do. He brought me down here, and I’ve been sitting in this lab ever since, watching a steady stream of madmen put on silly suits and go back and forth to the Other Side. Marissa herself came past just now. She took off her cape and caught a lift up top. She was in a hurry. Didn’t stop to say hello.’

‘Marissa came by?’ Lockwood asked. ‘Was she alone?’

‘Hey, Lucy asks the questions around here,’ the youth said. ‘You can’t just barge in and take over like you’re the leader or something. Where’s your respect?’

I cleared my throat. ‘Please, Skull, was Marissa on her own?’

‘There – see? That’s how it’s done.’ The ghost smiled broadly at Lockwood. ‘Yes, Lucy, she was on her lonesome. Why?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘We’ve got to follow her.’ A thought occurred to me. ‘What time is it now, in the living world? Is it morning yet?’ I had a sudden desperate yearning to see the sun.

‘Nope. Clock on the wall says just past midnight. Hours yet till dawn.’

Lockwood spoke through cracked lips. ‘Wait! That can’t be true! Winkman and Gale raided Portland Row just after midnight. It’s got to be later than that.’

‘It is. Twenty-four hours later. I was brought here early morning, and a whole long day’s gone by.’ The youth grinned maliciously at us, and in that grin the face in the jar was clearly visible. ‘I said you’d been a while.’

Our faces had sagged. ‘Impossible,’ Holly whispered. ‘We’d have known …’

‘That’s the thing about being dead,’ the ghost said. ‘You lose all track of time.’

There was no further delay; no one wanted to stay a moment more. The others shuffled towards the arch. Only I hung back.

‘Thanks, Skull,’ I said. ‘I’m glad I found you.’ I hesitated. ‘Listen – seeing you with a face and body and everything, it seems a bit weird to still be calling you “Skull”. Can’t you tell me your name?’

‘Nah, forgotten it.’ The youth shrugged; the dark eyes glittered. ‘Besides, shared names come with trust.’

I looked at him. ‘Yeah. Well, whatever. I’ll pick you up when I get through.’

‘If you want. Oh, one other thing,’ the skull added as I turned away. ‘Kipps.’

‘What about him?’

‘Anything happen to him recently?’

‘No.’

‘Sure about that, are you?’