“The usual. They listened with much more attention to Mr. Peger, and so they do not believe we need more reinforcements. They also insist no men can be spared.”
“They’re gonna regret that,” Daniel muttered. “When they see what’s in the cemetery, they’re gonna wish they’d listened to you.”
“Yes, but I think that is enough talk about that.” Joseph glanced at me slantwise, and I got the impression that whatever topic they were discussing it was not for my ears. He turned toward me. “Tell me, Miss Fitt, what brings you here?”
“Oh.” I swallowed and sat up straight. “It’s two things, actually. One... well, one has to do with the walking Dead, and the other is about a spirit.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow and gestured for me to continue, so I described everything that had happened. I rambled, backtracked, and fought off tears, but soon information about the corpse, the letter, the séance, and the spirit had all rushed from me. Throughout the speech, Daniel and Joseph shot concerned glances back and forth.
When I had finished, Daniel’s lips compressed with distaste. “You held a séance?”
I nodded hesitantly. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
Daniel ignored me and turned to Joseph. “I thought you told the reporters to print warnings against séances.”
“I did, but it would seem they chose not to listen.” Joseph rubbed his hand over his head and leaned against the worktable. “Miss Fitt, if what you say is true, then I understand your worry.”
My mouth fell open. “If what I say is true? What do you mean?”
“People take advantage of us,” Daniel said. “More than a few have come here with false or overblown tales. But we’re not here to take on their family’s two hundred-year-old haunting—we’re here to stop a necromancer.”
“But I don’t have a haunting! I have a missing brother and—”
“And we don’t have time.” Daniel’s lips curled up, challenging me to argue.
Joseph intervened. “Miss Fitt, what Daniel says is true. We are extremely busy. This necromancer first raised the Dead in New York, and the police called us in several weeks ago. Several opium addicts were found, well... let us just say they were in a rather gruesome state.”
“There’s no need to censor yourself.” I sat up straighter. “I can handle the details. I grew up with stories of the Dead like everyone else.”
Daniel choked out a laugh. “Go on then, Joseph. You heard the lady. Might as well tell her the men were decapitated sacrifices.”
Joseph sighed. “Daniel, you have the manners and tact of a gorilla.”
“Ha.” Daniel shot me a wide grin. I spun my gaze to my shoes. The ruffian.
“Continue, please,” I mumbled.
“Well, the manner of their deaths”—Joseph flourished a gloved hand toward his head—“suggested the men were killed as a sacrifice for power. The fact that the corpses were also found as reanimated corpses proved it was the work of a necromancer. But then as suddenly as the bodies had begun appearing, they stopped.
“Or so we thought. We soon heard about a Philadelphia man found dead but walking, and judging by the similarity in... well, the similarity in sacrificial methods, we knew our necromancer had moved. Here.”
Daniel picked up the story, “People can handle one or two walking Dead—just burn ’em or blast ’em to smithereens—but a whole cemetery’s worth? And a necromancer decapitating the living? Not too many chaps are comfortable dealing with that.
“So we offered our services to the Exhibition board. Most folks with Joseph’s skills”—he cocked his head toward the Creole—“don’t leave New Orleans.”
“No,” Joseph said, “they do not.” For a moment his face sagged, but in an instant the expression passed and he gave me a curt nod. “Thus far the Dead have only harassed the Exhibition, and fortunately, these corpses have only been moderately dangerous. The rest of Philadelphia is untouched.”
“But it won’t stay that way.” Daniel slumped against the table, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“No.” Joseph’s lips thinned. “And though the board has hired us, it is a constant battle to prove the investment is worthwhile. The members cannot see the danger of the situation, and there are politics involved. We have only been hired for show—to soothe visitors’ nerves.
“Nonetheless, we have a job to do. We must first protect the Exhibition, and in our available time, we must train the Exhibition patrolmen to fight the Dead. Fire will not do in a place that ignites easily.” He waved his hands toward the Main Building, which could be seen through the window. “But most important of all, we must stop this necromancer.
“And so, Miss Fitt, if the corpses and the spirit are not directly threatening you, then I see no reason we should strain ourselves further.”
“No threat!” I jumped to my feet. “What of my brother? They have him!”
Daniel scoffed. “There’s no proof of that.”