G is for Ghosts

by Rhonda Parrish

  There had to be more to it than that. No one gave anything for free. Toffs especially.

  My face must have betrayed my doubt, because she nodded slowly. “Good lad. You’re clever, as I suspected. We want your help in tracking down the one responsible for these murders, so we can stop this soul eater. As a spirit, you can go places none of us can.”

  “I can?” Stupid. Obviously I could, since almost no one could see me.

  Liza returned, shrugging into a long motoring coat as she walked. “Right, let’s get on with this.” The lady in the evening dress was gone, replaced by a rather more dangerous creature in trousers, sturdy boots, and a leather waistcoat over a dark shirt. She had a pistol slung at one hip, and some sort of pouch rested on the other.

  Clara beckoned her in and poured the tea. She added several carefully measured drops from a tiny blue glass bottle to the cup. “Sugar?”

  “Will it help the taste?”

  “Not particularly.” Clara pushed the cup away and began to pour a second.

  Liza pursed her lips but took the proffered cup. She made a horrible face at the first sip, then she slung back the remainder like a shot of whiskey. “That’s awful.”

  “Effective, though.” Clara hesitated with the blue bottle raised. “Mr. Drake, I’m honestly not certain how this preparation will interact with your unique heritage. It may not work properly.”

  Drake raised a hand to stop her. “Don’t bother, Ms. Sorlie. I can’t hear our young friend, but I can sense his location well enough for this. And I can always locate Liza, which is the important thing.”

  He shot the young lady an ardent look which she utterly ignored, as she was staring at me in bemusement. “I can see you now, Wils. Say something?”

  I straightened up automatically. “Hello?”

  Liza pulled a flat cap from her coat pocket and tugged it over her hair. “Right. You lead me into the Warren, and we’ll get Lodie out. If I can’t sneak her out, or negotiate with this Bidderk fellow, Vash will provide a diversion.”

  “A rescue, if necessary.” Drake stood, and suddenly the room felt entirely too small. He was a big man, but somehow he filled up more space than his body accounted for. It hit me then, the wrongness: the women were magickers, but he was magic. He offered an arm and a sharp-edged smile to Liza. “Shall we go hunting?”

  Her return smile was equally predatory. “We shall.”

  Familiar as I was with the Sprawl, I was uncomfortable leading Liza and Drake—I didn’t dare call him by his given name, even in my own head—into the district. It was one of the oldest in the city, as anyone could see from the narrow winding roads and the weathered, crooked buildings. Most had been built onto wherever there was space, until there wasn’t any space anywhere.

  People here were poor. There were few lights, and fewer people out at this late hour. Made me twitchy. These two didn’t fit in, and there was no crowd to hide them in. I kept to the shadows as much as possible. We finally wound our way to entrance I’d chosen, an abandoned shop with boarded-over windows. I waved Liza to a stop. “This is where we go in. The Warren is…tricky. Bidderk’s crew changes things to keep the lockies and other crews out.”

  “I expected as much. I plan to mark our path.” She kept her voice low, and her eyes kept moving, watching the shadows around us.

  I never would have betrayed the crew that way in life, but what more could they do to me now? As long as these two got Lodie out, I might as well be all in. “Right. Ready?”

  “I assume this is where we part ways?” Drake eyed the shop dubiously and turned to Liza. “It will take at least half an hour to roust out the local patrol, so do be cautious.”

  She stopped scanning the street for a moment to grin at him. “That long? I imagine they’ll fall all over themselves to do the bidding of Vashon Drake, son of the head of the privy council.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “No doubt, but it does take a bit of time to travel to and from the precinct house in this maze.”

  I stuck my head through the door to the shop. It felt strange, the solid wood forming a cold line through my chest. Not pleasant, but bearable. No one was waiting inside, so I pulled myself back out. “Best to go quick. Seems clear for the moment.”

  Liza patted Drake’s arm in reassuring fashion. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t waste any time fetching the lawkeepers.”

  He nodded and turned on his heel, striding off up the street at a good clip. For a wonder, he was even going in the right direction. That was a mite confusing, but this was no time to stand about wondering why a toff knew his way around the Sprawl.

  “Come this way.” I moved around the corner of the shop, to the tiny crevice that remained of the gap between this building and the next. Liza had to turn sideways to slide through the first few feet. The space opened up again as we approached what had been a side door to the shop. I stuck my head through this one, too, and determined no one was around. “Okay, open it.”

  She pulled the door open gingerly, but I knew it would open without a sound. What good was a hidden door if it announced itself with squealing hinges when you opened it?

  Once inside, I lead her into the back of the shop and through a gap behind a cupboard that gave access to the next shop over. From there we descended into the basement, moving in silence by unspoken accord. We crept from one basement to the next through holes knocked in the walls. Some were abandoned, empty or full of broken furniture and other trash. One held barrels and echoed with footsteps overhead as we crossed under The Broken Lamp, the only tavern in this part of the Sprawl. Every so often, Liza pulled a piece of chalk from her pocket and marked the wall or floor. We passed through an earthen tunnel with broken planks providing a very basic floor, where she had to bend so low she was nearly crawling.

  On the other side, everything was touched with rot and damp. These buildings had flooded in a storm years ago, and rather than clean and or rebuild them, the people of the Sprawl built stairs to the untouched upper floors and abandoned everything at ground level and below. This was the Warren in truth, where Bidderk and his gang knocked out or built walls to suit them, and left traps for the unwary. We climbed back up to the ground floor. We went slower now, as I searched for the signs that marked the safe path and pointed out the dangers so Liza could mark them for Drake and the lockies. I tried to keep my mind on Lodie. She was going to be free. That was worth giving up the crew.

  “We’re close now.” It was stupid, but I kept my voice to a whisper. “Close to the bunks. We might be able to get to Lodie unseen.”

  Liza nodded and bent down to mark the door frame we were about to pass through. “We can hope.”

  We were in the heart of the Warren. The passages were close, with makeshift walls breaking up the space into small cubbies where the crew bedded down. At this hour, most of the men would be out and about, this being prime bug-hunting time as the drunks emptied out of the taverns. That didn’t mean it was empty, though. I could only hope that with her hair covered and clothes smudged and rumpled from clambering through the Warren, Liza might pass at a glance for one of the young toughs who made up the majority of the crew.

  She picked her way carefully behind me, slow and almost silent in the dark. Nobody wasted lamps on this area. If you needed a light, you brought it to the bunks with you. I found myself moving faster as we neared the nook Lodie and I had called home these past few years. It was hardly larger than a cupboard, stuffed with a couple of ragged blankets and what little spare clothing the two of us had.

  I crouched down and ran my hand through the blankets. It was like plunging them into cold water until suddenly I felt warmth. “Lodie!”

  Even startled awake, Lodie was canny enough to stay still. I could just see one of her eyes peeking out from the nest. It widened and she sat up, shedding the blankets. “Wils!” Her face fell as she looked me over. “What happened?”

  For a moment I just stared. She could see me! Clara must be right
about Lodie being a medium. I held my finger to my lips before she could speak again. “Shh. Later. We need to get out of here. This lady’s gonna help, and she has a friend who can teach you. But the lockies are coming.”

  Liza stepped closer and raised a hand in greeting. “Your brother wants you to be safe, Lodie. Will you come with me?”

  Lodie, still wide-eyed, nodded and pushed the blankets out of her way. “Let’s go.”

  We took a different path out, which proved smart when we heard the crash of breaking planks and boots pounding on the other side of one of the barriers. The lockies were making their move on the crew. I moved faster, urging Liza and Lodie to squeeze through the narrow passages and out into an alleyway. From there I kept moving through the twisting lanes and alleys of the Sprawl. I didn’t stop until we were well beyond the northern edge of Bidderk’s territory.

  Liza moved to the mouth of the current alley to get her bearings. “Looks like…Vine Street? We’re nearly in Eastgate. Well done, Wils.”

  I joined her and looked around. Funny thing, I had run north on instinct. “Used to live in Eastgate, before Ma died. Three streets up.”

  Her sympathetic look pierced me to the heart. “I lost my mother as a child, too. I promise you we’ll make sure Lodie is safe.”

  “Lodie is safe,” said a hollow, masculine voice that sounded so terribly wrong coming from my sweet sister. I turned, and saw her face twisted into a vicious snarl. “And she’s not going anywhere with you.” There was a bit of chalk in her hand, and she was drawing rapidly on the rough cobbles. By the way Liza patted her pocket and grimaced, Lodie must have nicked it from her on the run.

  “Let’s calm down, shall we?” Liza’s tone was conciliatory, and she moved very slowly toward Lodie with her hands out and open. “I’m not sure who you are, but we all want what’s best for Lodie.”

  A harsh laugh answered her. “I want what’s best for me. This girl makes an excellent vessel for exacting my revenge, and you will not have her.” Lodie’s chalk never stopped moving. She had nearly encircled herself with markings.

  I drifted closer. I hadn’t seen another spirit nearby, but this had to be one. Could I do something to it? Make it leave?

  “What revenge?” Liza stopped short of the chalk circle. Not because she wanted to, either. I could see the strain as she tried to move forward.

  Lodie pointed with the chalk, the man’s voice booming unnaturally from her. “Revenge on those dastards who brought me low and arranged my execution. Not enough to have me removed as alderman, no, Gambrill insisted on the maximum penalty!”

  Liza stood very still. “Lord Gambrill of the privy council?”

  I moved closer yet, testing the edge of the chalk circle without meeting any resistance.

  “Yes! At first I only planned to humiliate Gambrill and the others by enabling this Bidderk idiot to run rampant in the city. But then I realized this girl was capable of so much more.” The grin that followed was positively obscene. My hands balled into fists at my sides. I didn’t know who this was, but I wanted him away from Lodie.

  “You’re that Lewkun fellow, aren’t you? The one convicted of necromancy.” Liza unfastened the pouch that rested at her hip. I was both surprised and relieved that she didn’t reach for her pistol.

  Lodie—or the thing in Lodie’s body—drew herself up proudly. “Erastus Lewkun. Alderman for Beacon Hill for twenty-five years, brought low simply for seeking knowledge.” She scowled and pointed at Liza. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Not clever enough to stop me.” Lewkun chanted some foreign gibberish. The chalk lines started to glow.

  Liza wasted no breath on argument. She pulled a black knife from her pouch and stabbed at the barrier between her and Lodie. The blade stuck in the air as if she’d jabbed it into a solid wall.

  Behind her, a jagged line tore open in the air between the buildings. A narrow, claw-tipped hand emerged. I had to do something. If she died, no one would take care of Lodie. “Liza, behind you!”

  Lewkun turned Lodie’s body toward me, surprised. Maybe he’d forgotten I was there. Maybe he hadn’t noticed me at all. I didn’t give him a chance to react. I launched myself at Lodie, shoving hard to crowd out Lewkun’s spirit.

  It was like getting into a fist fight inside a full cupboard. I lost track of the alley, disoriented by the struggle to push the other spirit away and get control of Lodie’s body. Every time I pushed, there was resistance, and then it just moved around me like water. There was no way out and I couldn’t get ahold of my enemy. He’d been doing this a lot longer and I could feel his gloating. I was drowning.

  Another presence wrapped around me, a familiar warmth that loaned me strength. Lodie! Together, we gathered up Lewkun’s spirit and held him tight.

  For a moment I gained control of Lodie’s senses, enough to see Liza dancing back from the soul eater as it emerged fully into the alley. The monster reached for her. She raised her hand and blew a handful of powder straight into its gaping maw. It reared away with a horrible shriek as it began to bubble and blister wherever the powder touched.

  My control slipped and I lost vision. Holding on to Lewkun’s spirit was like wrestling a bag of eels. He was strong and slippery, and even with Lodie’s help I wasn’t sure how long I could keep him from taking over again.

  I could still hear as we struggled for control. A grunt of pain from Liza, harsh breathing, boots on cobbles and the scrabbling of hard claws. The crack of the pistol, deafening in such close quarters. Another shriek. The thud of someone, or something, falling.

  I felt Lodie getting weaker. This fight was hurting her. With all the strength I could muster, I imagined wrapping my arms tight around this Lewkun and dragging him back out into the alley.

  The world came back to me in bits and pieces: The dark alley getting lighter as dawn came on. Liza reaching for something in her bag of tricks as the soul eater scrambled to its feet, wounds oozing. Lodie beside me, holding her head and gasping for air. Me, with my arms wrapped tight around the ghostly body of a disagreeable old man I’d never seen before. “I got him! Can’t hold him long.”

  “Hang on, Wils. Let me get rid of his pet first.” Liza darted to the left and blew more powder at the soul eater. It screamed like a steam whistle and stumbled away, toward the rip in the world. She was driving it back. Herding it back to wherever it came from.

  My grip on Lewkun slipped as he struggled and cursed. “Can’t hang on!”

  “I have him, Wils.” Lodie was calm as she turned toward me. She made a gathering motion with her hands, like a woman winding up yarn. Lewkun slipped from my grasp with a wail that grew gradually thinner as Lodie pulled him away, twisting up his spirit into a tight ball. With the angry ghost contained, she ran forward and hurled the ball of spirit-stuff at the soul eater. “Devils take you both!”

  The soul eater flinched away as Lewkun’s ghost slammed into its oversized maw. Liza kicked it, hard, sending the monster toppling backward to fall through the tear. That black knife was back in her hand, and quick as a wink she nicked her wrist and began stitching up the rip with a white needle and thread made of her own blood. That still gave me the shakes, so I turned away.

  Lodie crossed her arms and watched, looking fiercer than I’d ever seen her. “That’ll keep ‘em out, will it?”

  “Should,” Liza replied, still stitching. “Unless someone opens the door again.”

  Lodie thought that over. “Can I do anything to make sure they don’t?”

  Liza cut her ‘thread’ and stowed the knife and needle. “Yes, you probably can. I know someone who can teach you, if you’d like.”

  Lodie let her arms fall to her sides as some of the anger went out of her. She looked back at me. “Can Wils come, too?”

  Liza laughed, a surprisingly bright sound from someone who’d looked so grim a moment before. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving Wils out.” She held out her hand.

  Lodie took it with a small smile. W
e were gonna be all right.

  W is for Wronged

  M.L.D. Curelas

  Wasting disease is what they call it. The nurses cluck as they arrange blankets around the pale husk of my body, composing a peaceful scene for Wilhelm.

  Am I dead? I don’t feel so, and I can see my body breathing, shallowly and slowly. But death seems not far off, from the downcast expressions of the nurses. I try to explain that I’m fine, but they don’t see my waves or hear my cries for attention. Frustrated, I pull my mouth into a frightful grimace and shout at them. They don’t react.

  When they turn for the door, I leap after them, and that is when I discover that my self, my spark, has separated from my physical form. Confused, I stare down at my ghostly body, as wispy as a cloud, and then at the bed, where my solid body breathes. The experience is so unnerving that I stay in place, uncertain what I should do. The nurses leave without looking back.

  Eventually, Wilhelm arrives and carefully sits at my bedside, clasping one of my husk’s hands. He looks tired, eyes rimmed red and bloodshot. I wish to console him, to explain that I’m simply unrooted from my earthly body, but like the nurses, Wilhelm doesn’t hear me. My hands pass through his shoulders. He shivers a little and glances toward the window.

  My hands. They are transparent, as is, I discover, my entire body. It is horrifying, yet I am relieved that while I can see through myself, I cannot see beneath the skin like Wilhelm’s dread machine. Fear fills me at the memory of the invention.

  “I am ready, Bertha. Please keep still.”

  Buzzing. A green glow.

  I moan and the walls of my bedroom dissolve into white mist.

  When I return to myself, I am not in my bedroom, but Wilhelm’s laboratory.