The Last Necromancer

Chapter 3 (part 2)

I woke up to morning sunlight shooting through the crack between the closed curtains. A cold supper sat on the dressing table. I pulled the curtains aside and threw open the window. It was the sort of summer day I used to appreciate when I was a child. Father would drive us to the countryside for a picnic after church, or Mama and I would pick flowers from the garden and take them to poor parishioners along with loaves of bread. I'd forgotten how to enjoy summer since then. Probably because warm days meant the smell from the sewers became overpowering, and the rats and lice multiplied.

I ate the cold beef and carrots, but left the rest. I didn't want to throw up again and I already felt full. Someone had cleaned up the sick from the previous day and set out a clean shirt. I'd have to remember to take it with me when I left.

Seth and Gus came mid-morning. One carried books and the other paper and ink. I almost fell off my chair in my haste to touch them. I took the topmost book from the stack that Gus set down. It was a novel titled A Study In Scarlet by Conan Doyle.

It had been an age since I'd held a book. I used to love to read, although Father didn't allow novels at home. It seemed rather scandalous to simply hold one. I wondered what was so wicked about A Study In Scarlet. I couldn't wait to find out.

But...why were they delivering books to me?

I returned the book to the stack and backed away. "I don't know how to read," I told the men. "I don't know why you'd bring them in here."

Gus flipped through the pages of the novel then carelessly tossed it on the bed. "Death's orders. Don't know why he thinks you'd want 'em. Wasted on you, if you ask me."

"Wasted on you, too," Seth said.

"I can read."

"Barely." Seth turned to me. "Death says you're to have whatever you want."

"I want my freedom."

"Except that."

Gus picked up a cold green bean from my plate, tilted his head back and deposited it like a worm being fed to a bird. "He thinks boys want books and writing paper," he said as he chewed. "I reckon he's forgotten what it were like, being a lad."

"Just because you have no use for these things doesn't mean Charlie doesn't want them." Seth winked at me.

I worried he'd seen my reaction to the book and knew I could read. "I don't want them," I said. "Take them away."

"Can't," Gus said. "Death said to bring 'em to you, so we did." He picked up the plate and headed for the door.

"Wait!"

Both men stopped and blinked at me.

Now that I had their attention, I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to say to them. No, that wasn't quite right. There was a great deal I wanted to say to them. I just wasn't sure where to start. "Where's Mr. Fitzroy?"

"Out."

Good. That was one less person I had to worry about, and going on previous experience, I could outrun Gus and Seth. "Who else is in the house?"

"Never you mind," Seth said before Gus could answer. "You'll only see us while you're in here."

"Who is Lady Harcourt?"

"Death's mistress," Gus said.

Seth slapped Gus's shoulder. "He won't like you telling the lad that."

"The boy's thirteen and been living on the street! He's probably had more girls than you. Unlike you toffs, lads like Charlie and me dipped our wicks soon as we could. Eh, Half Pint? Talk about lovers ain't going to shock you, is it?"

"I wasn't referring to educating the boy in the ways of romantic relationships. I meant Death won't like you calling Lady Harcourt his mistress."

Gus sniffed. "Because she's a toff?"

"Yes, but also because she may or may not be his lover anymore. He seems a little cooler toward her lately."

"Don't know how you know the difference. He's always showed as much warmth as an icicle to anyone, including her, far as I can tell."

"That's because you're an unobservant nitwit."

I only half listened to their bantering. I couldn't stop thinking about Fitzroy having a lover. Like Gus, I couldn't imagine their leader capable of a romantic relationship, as Seth had called it. He seemed as passionate as a stone.

"What is the ministry?" I said, cutting through their bickering.

"Save your questions for Death," Seth said.

"When will he be back?"

"Later."

"And what am I to do until then?"

He nodded at the books. "Teach yourself to read."

The men left. They continued to bicker outside, until one set of footsteps receded. The other must have remained to guard me. I didn't think it necessary, since I was locked in.

I sighed. Escaping would have to wait. Perhaps the next time they delivered provisions, I could slip past them and out through the unlocked door. Until then, I had a book to read.

I pulled the chair over to the door and set it against the wall. I stuffed the spare shirt down the front of the one I wore then sat on the chair to read. I was ready to spring up the moment the door opened.

After the first ten pages, I'd decided to take the book with me when I escaped. My reading was a little rusty, but I managed to follow the story, despite not understanding some of the more complicated words. I read several more pages before the door opened.

"Luncheon is—"

I sprang up, ducked under the tray Seth carried, and darted through the door and past Gus.

"Get him!" Seth shouted.

Gus let out a string of curses that would have made a lady blush, then lumbered down the stairs after me. My bruised left side throbbed in protest, but I outpaced the bigger, slower guard easily enough. I took the stairs two at a time, and leaped over bannister handrails to avoid the landings altogether. On the final flight, I slid down the bannister to the floor.

Momentum propelled me forward toward the front door. I hoped it was unlocked, and that I was fast enough to outrun Gus and Seth and got to the trees before them. Once there, I could hide or climb the fence. I knew how to disappear in Highgate, as long as I wasn't captured before I reached the street.

"Get back here!" Gus shouted. Two sets of footsteps pounded behind me now, but I'd outstripped them by a considerable margin.

I was almost free.

"Halt or I'll shoot."

I glanced toward the voice to see a beautiful woman aiming a small pistol at me. My heart and feet stopped dead.

I was not free.