Page 29 of The Last Necromancer
"Why him?" I asked. "Why is he the leader?" He was, after all, young for such responsibility. I imagined someone of Gillingham's advanced years would be more suited to a leadership role.
"He was chosen at birth," Lady Harcourt said.
"Chosen at birth?"
"His entire life has been dedicated to becoming the ministry's leader. His education and training were specifically designed to make him the best. There is no one better suited to the position." She shrugged thin, bare shoulders. "No one more capable."
Clearly she hadn't ended the relationship then. I needed no further proof than her effusive admiration and the stony expression on his face.
Chosen. Best. Capable. It all sounded so cold and calculating, yet I supposed it was no different to many gentlemen born into the nobility, raised knowing he would take over from their fathers one day. Even so, it sounded like a dull life. The old me, the dutiful daughter, probably wouldn't have thought so, but the new me did. The thought of being destined to be someone since the day I was born, and never having the opportunity to deviate from that path, sounded like a prison sentence.
"Was your father the ministry's leader before you?" I asked him. Although Lady Harcourt had told me the story, it didn't seem right to ask her the question. "Is that why you were chosen?"
"No."
I waited for further explanation but none came. Yet the air in the room tightened. It took me a moment to realize that the other three people there had gone quite still. Had they also been waiting for an answer? Or did they already know it, and I'd stumbled onto a sensitive topic?
"You are investigating paranormal curiosities," I said to him. "And you want the necromancer girl to help you. Does that mean you are paranormal, sir?"
For a long moment I thought I'd overstepped the line; that I'd gone too far. He simply stared at me, unblinking. What was he waiting for? "No," he eventually said.
"But you got out of the bullet's way. How, if not with an unnatural speed?"
"I'm observant and quite quick."
Quite! He was also the master of understatement.
"No one in the ministry or on the committee has any true paranormal abilities," Lady Harcourt said. "You're our first such employee."
"I'm not working for you." I kept my tone light, but my tight jaw made it sound harsh.
"Why not?"
Because I can't trust you. I can't trust anyone. "I am not a necromancer."
Lady Harcourt opened her mouth to speak, but Fitzroy leaned forward and she closed it again. She seemed anxious to hear what he had to say. We all were. "We thought there was only one in the world," he said. "But it seems there are two. You and the girl."
"I am not a necromancer. How many times do I have to tell you?" I pushed my chair back and stood.
Seth and Gus crowded round me, waiting for an order from their master to grab me and remove me from the room.
"Sit down," Fitzroy snapped.
"You have not eaten your jelly." Lady Harcourt indicated the bowl that Seth had set before me. She smiled. "Stay with us. There's more you need to know."
I picked up my spoon, wishing it were a knife I could throw at Fitzroy. I sat again. "If I must."
She scooped out some jelly but didn't eat it. It wobbled in her spoon as she regarded me. "Someone wishes to use your—a necromancer's—power to harm the queen."
"Who?"
"We don't know. Mr. Fitzroy intercepted a letter from someone in Paris we had been watching. It only bore the man's—or woman's—initials and was addressed to an abandoned house, however we think the letter reached him."
"It did," Fitzroy intoned. "I made sure of it."
"The letter mentioned that a particular girl he'd been seeking—"
"The necromancer?" I asked.
