The Last Necromancer

by C. J. Archer

  "I do. I—" His face turned stony. "Goodnight, Charlie."

  He walked off and I closed the door, still none the wiser as to where he was headed. My jangling nerves didn't allow me to fall asleep until it was almost dawn.

  ***

  When I awoke late morning, I quickly dressed and hurried down the stairs. I found Seth and Gus in the scullery, helping Cook with chores.

  "You missed breakfast," Cook said without glancing up from the pot he scrubbed.

  "Can't you fry a little bacon for her?" Seth asked.

  "I'll do it," I said. "Is Mr. Fitzroy here?"

  "He came back two hours ago," Gus said. He sat on his haunches on the floor, scrubbing brush in hand, and rubbed his back. "He's probably sleeping."

  "If he sleeps." Seth grinned and winked at me. "I'm not sure he requires any."

  "You mean he's been out all night?" I looked from one to the other and received only shrugs. "Does he do that often?"

  "On occasion." Seth indicated I should walk ahead of him out of the scullery. "When the need arises."

  I was about to ask what he meant, but decided it was best not to ask. He might mean the sort of needs only a woman could satisfy.

  He followed me into the kitchen and showed me where Cook kept the pan and bacon. I wasn't overly familiar with cooking, but Seth taught me how to add more coal to the range, although it was still hot enough for my needs. The actual cooking part was easy. He made some tea while I worked and we chatted as I ate.

  By the time I finished, I'd learned about his love of all things equestrian and the details of every horse he'd ever owned. I learned nothing about himself or his family, except that they must have been wealthy to afford all those horses. My father had not owned one.

  "Good morning." Fitzroy's sudden appearance caught me by surprise. As usual, I'd not heard him approach. "Did you sleep well?"

  "Abominably," I said. "I hear you didn't sleep at all."

  He unwrapped the bacon I'd carefully rewrapped and placed two rashers in the pan I'd used. "I managed a little."

  I was diverted from my own food by the sight of a gentleman cooking his own breakfast. I supposed in a household without servants he occasionally had to do things for himself. When he finished, he tipped the bacon onto a plate and accepted a cup of tea from Seth. He sat opposite me and ate.

  "Did you find him, sir?" Seth asked.

  "Yes, but I lost him again."

  "Again!"

  Fitzroy's sharp glare pinned Seth for a brief moment before releasing him. He continued to eat but the air in the kitchen had become chilly, despite the heat thrown out from the range.

  "You were looking for Frankenstein last night." My words came out in a rush, followed by a bubble of laughter.

  Fitzroy watched me from beneath lowered lashes while continuing to eat. Seth shrugged. "Where did you think he was?" he asked.

  "That…never mind. So you found him again?"

  "And lost him in the same spot," Fitzroy said. He sounded more bemused than angry. It was as if he couldn't fathom how he'd lost Frankenstein. Perhaps it had never happened before.

  "The man must be a magician to get away from you twice," Seth said.

  "The thought had crossed my mind."

  I blinked at him. "Magic? Surely that's a joke?"

  "I don't joke."

  "Amen," Seth muttered as he picked up the empty pan.

  "But…magic…" I shook my head. "That's something only children and fools believe in."

  "As are necromancers," Fitzroy said.

  "Point taken." I finished my bacon and pushed my plate aside. "You said you lost him in the same place. Where precisely was that?"

  "You think you can help?" Seth asked, taking my plate. "Best leave this to us, Charlie."

  I flattened my palms on the table. "Don't treat me like a child. My knowledge of London's streets likely exceeds yours. I doubt you found yourself in too many dark, crowded lanes during your pampered life."

  "You'd be surprised," he said with a harsh laugh. "My life hasn't been all that pampered of late."

  I rubbed my temple and winced. "I'm sorry, Seth, I didn't mean to let my temper get the better of me."

  He chucked me under the chin and smiled. "Don't fret. I deserved it."

  Fitzroy shoved his plate at Seth. Seth's face fell. He took the plate and wandered out of the kitchen toward the scullery.

  "Totten Lane," Fitzroy said to me. "Do you know it?"

  "In Clerkenwell? Yes, I do." I frowned and chewed on my lower lip. The lane bled into a small, miserable courtyard, where several families occupied the tenements. There were buildings on all sides, and there was no other exit except through a manhole that led to the underground sewers. It was located behind a brick wall that seemed to belong to one of the buildings from a distance, but up close, it became obvious that the wall was once part of an old well that had once stood there. "I know how he disappeared."

  One of his brows lifted. "Go on."

  "It's easier if I show you. Shall we go now?"

  I stood and he stood too. "I don't think that's wise."

  "Why not? You need to find Frankenstein, and I can help you." I crossed my arms in what I hoped was a show of defiance but felt more like pettiness.

  "You were afraid before, and with good reason."

  "I was. I still am. But I know that helping you will mean he's caught sooner. When he's caught, I can stop being afraid."

  He blinked slowly and nodded. He walked off and I had to race to catch up to him.

  "Wait, sir."

  He stopped in the narrow, dark service corridor and waited until I was alongside him.

  "I want to help. I owe you for taking me in."

  "You don't. The circumstances under which you came here…were not ideal. It should negate any gratitude you feel. It's I who should be thanking you."

  "True," I said lightly.

  He huffed out a breath that might or might not have been a laugh. "Thank you, Charlie, for not shooting me in the head."

  I shivered at the memory of having nearly killed him. A few inches to the left and the bullet would have pierced his heart. I folded my arms against the chill.

  "Charlie," he said softly. "It was a joke."

  "Not a very funny one."

  He sighed. "I'm unused to making jokes. I apologize. I'll hold my tongue next time."

  "No! Don't do that. I prefer your unfunny jokes to none at all." I liked that he was telling jokes when he ordinarily didn't. It felt like he was trying just for me.

  "You'll change your mind soon enough."

  I wasn't sure if that was meant as a joke too, so I laughed anyway, just in case. "Sir," I said, peering up at him, "what will happen to me after Frankenstein is caught and this is over? I don't wish to live with Lady Harcourt, and I can't go back to the streets."

  "No, you can't."

  "I'd like to stay here."

  "That has yet to be decided."

  "Who decides? You?"

  "I make all the decisions regarding the ministry and Lichfield Towers."

  "Don't tell Lord Gillingham that. He seems to think you're an underling."

  "Don't be afraid of Gillingham. He's an old goat in an expensive suit, nothing more."

  "I don't want you to incur his wrath if I stay here."

  "I can cope with Gillingham's wrath, and anyone else's censure. If I decide that you are to stay, that is."

  "Don't send me away," I whispered. It was suddenly so hard to hold myself together. Mere days ago, all I'd wanted was to get away from Lichfield. But now, the thought of leaving was unbearable.

  We stood so close that I could feel the heat of him. I was aware of his every breath, every shift of muscle, and my aching response to him.

  "Charlie," he said on a sigh, "staying here may not be in your best interests."

  "How can it not be?"

  His gaze wandered over the top of my head, toward the scullery where three deep, quiet voices hummed in conversation.

>   "You are entirely wrong, Lincoln."

  His gaze flew to mine.

  "I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong." I thrust my hand on my hip, angrier now. Good. I preferred anger to the pathetic whine I heard in my voice moments ago. "I am capable of taking care of myself, and I am also not going to succumb to teasing flattery from the men. I'd hoped you thought me better than that."

  His lips parted and I was gratified to see that my words had slapped him into giving a facial expression. If I wasn't mistaken, my outburst had shocked him. Perhaps he hadn't expected me to be aware of his thoughts on the matter.

  "Now, have someone prepare the horses and carriage. We're going to Clerkenwell." I picked up my skirts and sailed off down the passageway, out of the service area. I didn't turn to see if he watched or not, but if the heat in the back of my head was an indication, he couldn't take his gaze off me. I only wished I knew if I'd shocked him in a good way or bad.

  ***

  We walked down Totten Lane rather than take the coach. The road was narrow, being only a little wider than the width of the brougham, and turning would have been impossible. Besides, it made us too conspicuous. Although Fitzroy didn't say it, I suspected he wanted to arrive undetected. Unfortunately, the sight of four well-dressed strangers drew stares anyway.

  "Should've worn disguises," Gus muttered. He and Seth seemed tense, their arms and fingers rigid as if they were ready to draw weapons at the slightest sign of trouble. Where they'd hidden their weapons, I couldn't say, but I strongly suspected they possessed a knife or two and perhaps a pistol on their person.

  "Where precisely did you last see him?" I asked Fitzroy.

  He walked beside me. Outwardly, he seemed calm, his body less stiff than the others, his movements as fluid as always. But when he came so close to me that our arms brushed, I sensed him clench. "In Black Water Yard." He nodded ahead where the lane ended at an archway that led through to a small courtyard.

  "Our exit will be easily blocked once we enter," I said.

  He looked at me and arched a brow.

  I shrugged. "I remember Black Water Yard well. I was almost caught after stealing a shirt from a washing line."

  He nodded gravely.

  Up ahead, Seth peered back at me over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips. "It's easy to forget that you were a thief, looking as you do now."

  Gus and Seth went through the arch first, then me, and finally Lincoln. Gus and Fitzroy had to duck beneath the ancient bricks of the arch, and Seth's head skimmed it. He was hatless, as were the other men, whereas I wore the small bonnet set back on my head, my hair pinned off my face. I felt much too exposed as people stared at us, and me in particular. Did they recognize me as that boy thief of mere weeks ago?

  A group of children stopped their game of tag and watched us through wary eyes. Washing strung from lines between buildings flapped overhead. It would take an age for it to dry; the sun struggled to pierce the dense air and the courtyard was filled with shadows layered upon shadows.

  "That wall there is false," I said, nodding at the bricks on the far side of the courtyard. "From here it blends in with the wall of the building behind it, but if you get closer, you see that it's separate. Between the two walls is a manhole that leads down into the sewers."

  "Bloody dangerous, having a manhole near where children play," Seth said.

  "I don't think the authorities cared much about the slum children when they put it there. They think there are too many mouths to feed in these parts anyway. Losing a child to the sewers from time to time won't keep them awake at night."

  Fitzroy eyed his surroundings before striding to the wall and disappearing behind it. He reappeared moments later. "Take her back to Lichfield."

  Gus nodded. "Yes, sir. Both of us?"

  Fitzroy nodded.

  "Shouldn't one of them stay with you to help?" I asked him.

  He shook his head. "Go."

  Seth placed his hand at my lower back and both men flanked me as we walked out of the courtyard. I glanced over my shoulder, but Fitzroy had already disappeared behind the wall again. Whether he was lying in wait or going down into the sewers, I didn't know.

  "We'll be out of here in a moment," Seth said, splaying his fingers wide on my back. "Miserable place."

  "It's home to some," I told him, hotly. "Not everyone can live in a mansion."

  His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "I'm sorry if I offended. It wasn't my intention."

  I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry too."

  "Blimey." Gus stopped a few paces ahead of us. "Don't look now but there's a toff coming our way. You don't think it's—"

  "It is," I muttered. "Frankenstein."

  I recognized the slim man with the short whiskers in the gray suit. His gaze settled on us and he slowed, just as we did. He'd never laid eyes on me before, and he couldn't know what Charlotte Holloway looked like, yet my instincts screamed at me to run.

  Seth and Gus fell into step alongside me. Did they sense my anxiety? Seth took my hand and placed it on his arm, then folded his own hand over the top, trapping me. If we were in Hyde Park, we would have looked like any other couple taking a stroll on a warm summer's day. But no well-dressed couple strolled through the filthy lanes of Clerkenwell for entertainment.

  I tried not to look directly at Frankenstein as he passed, but I couldn't help myself peering through my lowered lashes. He touched the brim of his hat, but neither Seth nor Gus offered a greeting in return.

  Later, I wondered if that had tipped him off.

  I breathed out a long breath as he passed us by, but another caught in my throat when he called out. "Miss Holloway?"

  My heart stopped dead. How did he know?

  Seth shoved me behind him and I stumbled into the wall. I whipped around, gathering my skirts at the same time. But I lowered them again when I spotted Frankenstein backing up, hands above his head. My two protectors aimed pistols at him.

  "Miss Holloway," he said, eyeing the pistols. "Charlotte. I know it's you."

  "You don't know me," I said.

  "I saw a photograph of you at the Holloway residence. You were younger, but you haven't changed so much that you're unrecognizable."

  "I'm not going with you."

  "Please, listen to me before you make that decision."

  Seth straightened his arm and aimed the pistol at Frankenstein's temple. "Don't speak."

  "I must. Charlotte, these people have lied to you about me. They've made you afraid of me, when it is them you should fear."

  "Shut your mouth!" Gus shouted.

  Frankenstein swallowed heavily and directed his gaze at me. He had bright blue eyes, and where his jaw had been hard that day I'd seen him storming away from my father's house, it was now slack. He didn't appear in the least harmful, particularly as Seth and Gus were so much bigger.

  "Listen to me, Charlotte. Whatever these people have told you is false. Lies. They've been seeking out my secrets for some time now, and wish to use my knowledge for their own gain."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, chin up.

  "Good girl," Seth said. "Don't believe him. He's a liar and a murderer."

  "I've not murdered anyone!" Frankenstein took a step toward me, but Seth and Gus blocked his path. The doctor's lips curled in frustration. "It's not murder to put suffering, dying men out of their misery. Those poor souls were terminally ill. They were in pain. They begged me to end their suffering."

  "You used their body parts!" I covered my mouth and swallowed bile. It was one thing to hear of his deeds second hand, it was quite another to come face to face with such a monster. Yet he looked nothing like a monster. He looked like a normal gentleman. He was in earnest, yes, but I wasn't afraid of him.

  "Calthorn wasn't dying," Seth said.

  "Calthorn was a wicked man." Frankenstein spoke to me. His entire focus was directed at me. "He hurt his wife. He beat her daily. Not on her face, where the bruises would be seen, but in the sto
mach and chest. She couldn't have children because of the beatings. He used the secrets he gained through his position as head of the nation's spy ring to bully and harm those weaker than himself. He was a cruel man, yet no court would have convicted him. He was above the law and he knew it. You tell me, Charlotte, if you think a man like that ought to get away with his crimes. Perhaps I acted rashly, and should not have killed him for his wife's sake, but I am not always a rational man when I'm riled. And that man did rile me."

  "You took his brain!"

  "I found another use for it. But that's not why I killed him." He slowly pressed his hands together above his head then lowered them. "I have begged God's forgiveness every day, and I know I will be punished for my sins in the afterlife. But while I live, I can do good here. My experiments are not to be feared. I have done England a service by creating new life. Superior life. Once the bodies have spirits, you'll see them for what they are, Charlotte. Wonderful, amazing humans who deserve to live."

  I screwed up my face, unable to hide my disgust. Did he think I would believe he was doing something good for the country? For human-kind? He was mad. "They are abominations. They're not humans, they're monsters."

  "They are no more an abomination than me. Or you. We are all made, one way or another. Have you yourself not been called an abomination by the very man you thought was your father?"

  "He is not my father."

  "I know." He smiled gently. His eyes shone—familiar, blue eyes.

  My stomach plunged. My throat tightened and it suddenly felt too hot in the lane, the air too close. I backed away and hit the wall. I pressed myself into the cool bricks, but couldn't take my eyes off Frankenstein.

  "I'm your father, Charlotte."

  "Bloody hell," Gus muttered, lowering his weapon.

  Seth cocked his gun.

  "Don't!" I cried. I raced up to them, but stopped short. I wasn't sure what to do or say. All I did know was that I didn't want Frankenstein to be shot.

  If he was my father, I had a million questions I needed answered. But I could ask none of them. I could only stare. I took in his appearance, his slender frame and oval face, so like mine. His eyes were the same shade of blue too, although not as wide. The more I looked, the more certain I became that he spoke the truth. This man had fathered me.