Page 71 of The Last Necromancer
I forced myself to walk up the stairs. I didn't like my growing feelings for someone who'd kidnapped me without qualms and held me prisoner until I'd made myself useful. I doubted he thought about me in the same way I thought about him. He'd certainly given no indication that he did. Such an imbalance of feelings between two people was never a good thing.
I read A Guide To The Spirit World in my small sitting room and learned more about my power in thirty minutes than I'd discovered in eighteen years. Most of it chilled me. A necromancer was different to a spirit medium, in that mediums could only speak to ghosts that had decided to remain and haunt their place of death. They could summon spirits into the living body of another through possession, but the spirit had a will of its own and a medium could not control it. A necromancer could raise a spirit that had already crossed over and control it—any spirit, no matter how long ago they'd died. The spirit could go anywhere in its ghostly form and not be confined to their place of death. That made necromancers much more powerful. Frighteningly so. The only limitation was that a spirit raised by necromancy couldn't be placed into a living body, only a dead one. The book didn't specify whether the body had to be its own or could be any cadaver.
I re-read the page three times then shut the book and folded it against my chest. It seemed I'd only scratched the surface of my capabilities so far. What unnerved me was that Fitzroy already knew this information, and so, perhaps, did the others. It was no wonder he wanted to keep me away from madmen and evil ones.
I set aside the book and read a novel to lighten my mood until Gus and Seth coaxed me outside for a walk. I'd been surprised to see them, having assumed Fitzroy took them with him in his search for Frankenstein.
"If Fitzroy finds him, do you think he'll confront him alone?" I asked as we ambled through the orchard.
Seth, who'd been striding ahead, slowed to walk alongside me again. "He might."
"That's rather foolish. He ought to have you two as support."
"He don't need us," Gus said, picking off an unripe apple and throwing it at a trunk. It missed.
"Fitzroy works better alone," Seth clarified. "Especially when he's following someone."
"We ain't that bad!"
"No, but he's better. If he's following you," he said to me, "you'll never know it. A hunting cat makes more noise than Death."
I could attest to that all too well. "What do you know about him? His background, his family, where is he from?"
"Wouldn't know." Gus snapped another apple from the tree and threw it as hard as possible. It split when it hit a nearby trunk and he gave a whoop of delight.
"We know very little about him," Seth said. "Neither of us has been employed by the ministry for long."
"How did you end up working for him?"
Seth picked an apple and threw it at the same tree, but missed. Gus snorted. We'd stopped altogether, both men distracted by their sport. I thought they wouldn't answer my question, but after three misses, Seth did.
"I found myself at a loose end one evening. Death was there and offered me a job."
"Bloody liar," Gus said with a shake of his head. "Seth were gambling and drinking like there ain't no tomorrow. He had nothing left to lose, except his own person, so he staked it."
"What do you mean, 'staked it'?"
"Himself. His body."
"That's enough," Seth growled. "She's a lady. She doesn't want to hear the particulars."
"I'm no lady, and I certainly do want to hear the particulars. They're the best part."
Seth's face turned a bright crimson as he glared at Gus. Gus ignored him. "Some old, fat lord took the wager. Said his wife would like to lie with a young, handsome fellow again." He leaned closer to me, his grin splitting his face. "Only I think the old lord wanted Seth for himself. The look on his wrinkly face when Seth removed his shirt to prove—"
"I did not remove my shirt!" Seth rolled his eyes. "It's not true, Charlie. That part isn't, at least. Anyway, how would you know, Gus? You weren't there."
"You told me, you blathering idiot. That first night you arrived at Lichfield, feeling all sorry for yourself. You got rollicking drunk and tossed up your guts and your story."
"That doesn't explain how you wound up here, working for Fitzroy," I said. "So you lost to the lord at cards."
"Got soundly beaten," Seth said. "Fitzroy was there and offered to pay my debt in exchange for coming to work for him."
"The gentleman accepted?"
"Not at first, but Death offered him a large sum." Seth puffed out his chest. "He realized my worth."
"Realized how desperate you were," Gus said, pulling off another apple. "You were available at just the right time too, and had some skills he could use." He slapped his colleague on his brawny shoulder. "He ain't just a pretty face, Charlie. He can shoot straight and bare-knuckle box with the best of 'em. I saw him defeat Toothless Tom in the ring."
