Page 25 of Her Majesty's Necromancer
"Are your eyes open?"
"Of course." I opened them and was glad that it was too dark to see much. The few working streetlights provided enough light for me to realize we were going exceedingly fast. I resisted the urge to close them again and instead began to count to pass the time and take my mind off the fact I was riding at an alarming speed.
It still seemed like an age before we slowed. We'd reached Whitechapel. I knew the area well, having spent more months in the miserable precinct than I would have liked. Where not a soul was out on the cool, damp night in Highgate, there were signs of life in Whitechapel, from the homeless, huddled on front porches, to the whores offering themselves to us as we passed. Their threadbare clothing looked too thin for the bitter autumn night. I wished I'd brought some coins with me to hand out.
Lincoln ignored them all. We rode through the shadows, down narrow lanes that stank of human wretchedness until we finally came to a stop behind a row of buildings. Lincoln dismounted and opened a gate then led the horse through to a small courtyard. It was empty except for a small cart, a pail and some empty crates. He closed the gate again and held the horse steady while I dismounted without assistance.
"Is this where Jimmy and Pete live?" I asked.
"They live around the corner. This is a butcher's shop. They stole another body earlier this evening, deposited it here and then left."
Bile rose to my throat. "They're selling human meat for people to eat?" Oh God, how horrid.
"I don't think so, but I don't know for certain."
"So you wish me to use my necromancy and find out from one of the body's spirits what it is they plan to do?"
"I doubt the spirits will know. They have probably crossed over and wouldn't have witnessed anything. It's unlikely they even know their bodies have been disturbed."
"Then how can a spirit help? What do you need me for?"
"To raise one so he can frighten them into telling us."
"Oh. That's a good idea. It might work. But you don't think your interrogation techniques are enough to scare them into giving you answers?"
"It wasn't when I questioned them at The Red Lion. They're being paid very well, or being offered another incentive to keep the secret. Either I kill one of them to frighten the other into loosening his tongue, or we frighten them in some other way."
"I think you've made the right choice."
"We shall see."
"Do you think I can manage it? Raising a dead man when his soul has already crossed over, I mean. I've never done it before." I knew from reading Lincoln's books that a necromancer must summon a soul that has crossed over to the afterlife by name then instruct him or her to re-enter a dead body, not necessarily their own. I knew from experience that a soul that has not yet crossed doesn't need to be summoned by name. Simple instructions suffice in that case.
"You can manage it," he assured me.
"But I don't know any names."
"Gordon Moreland Thackery was inscribed on the headstone of the latest victim."
"Oh. Well done." I pulled my cloak tighter around my neck to keep out the chill. "Take me to the body."
"I picked the lock earlier," Lincoln said as he pushed open the door to the butcher's shop. It was as dark as his eyes inside and he didn't light a candle.
"I can't see."
His hand slipped into mine and he led me down a short corridor. The door clicked closed behind me. Our footsteps echoed on the floorboards and my breath sounded loud in the dense silence. He stepped on a creaking board and stopped. He let go of my hand and a sudden surge of fear bubbled inside me. I huddled in closer to him and was relieved when he struck a match and lit a candle that had been placed on a small recessed ledge at the top of a flight of stairs.
He returned the box of matches to his inside coat pocket then, of all the odd things, he fussed with my hood, ensuring it was pulled low over my forehead and around my ears. He was clinical, his gaze not meeting mine.
"Keep warm," he said, lowering his hand.
"Is the body down there?" I whispered.
He nodded. "Charlie?"
"Yes?"
"Prepare yourself."
