“I-I saw them.” I shuffled closer and pointed to the iron bars. “Through the fence.”
He sighed. “Can’t say I’m surprised you were here. You have the curiosity of a cat and the common sense of a goldfish.” He stared at me for a moment, the muscles in his jaw pulsing. Then he turned and strode toward the cemetery gate. I followed.
When he was several paces from the iron bars, he set down the bag and knelt beside it. With concentration, he removed the bag’s contents and laid them out in an orderly manner on the ground. An enormous spool of copper wire, a wrench, some wooden stakes, glass jars, and a series of black stones—perhaps magnets. As he continued to remove various mechanical apparatuses, I sidled closer and closer.
“What’s it all for?”
“Dead alarm.” He didn’t pause his careful unpacking. “A telegraph cable to connect to our lab.”
“Why?”
“One of the Hungry got out last night. They’re just so damn fast—too fast. It killed a man and two horses before we got to it.” He gestured to his tools. “If what I’m trying actually works, then when something Dead—a spirit or a corpse—passes through the gate, its spiritual energy will complete a circuit. That’ll set off our telegraph, and we’ll know somethin’ bad is on the loose.”
“Oh.” It was all very logical—clever, even.
Daniel twisted his cap to the side and then turned his attention to his sleeves. With meticulous care, he rolled them to his elbows. I turned away and scanned the iron bars of the fence. They were too close together to allow a person in or, rather, to allow a corpse out.
I looked back to Daniel and found him eying me, his expression dark. “You were following me, weren’t you?” He yanked the final fold of his sleeve into place.
Embarrassment flamed through me. “Yes.” I stared at the dusty path. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Sheridan.”
He grunted.
“I thought...” I paused and peeked up at him. “Well, I thought perhaps—”
“I know damn well what you thought.” He dropped to the earth and yanked at the spool of copper wire. “You’re all the same in this blasted city—you want our help but don’t trust us. You think we ought to save you just because. Well, as far as I’m concerned, the Dead can have the whole lot of you.”
“So why help us then?” I frowned. “Why don’t you just let the Dead kill us all?”
“Because...” He shut his mouth, and for several moments, he twisted the wire off the spool with more force than needed. At last he spat on the dirt and tried again. “Because Joseph won’t let the Dead kill you. He does the right thing, so I do the right thing with him.”
“But why? Why do you work for Mr. Boyer?”
“What’s with all the pestering, huh?” He shoved out his lower jaw. “Listen, I got... Well, I got a lot of making up to do, and there ain’t a nobler man than Joseph Boyer.”
My mouth fell open at his gruff confession.
He wagged a warning finger. “Don’t think I’ll look after you, though—the world would be better off with one less princess.”
“I’m not a princess,” I huffed, beating my brain for some worthy retort.
“A queen then?”
“No! That’s not what I meant—”
“Oh, an empress. I see. Pardon me, Your Majesty.” He swooped into a crouched bow, and when his torso sprang back up, a smile floated at the edge of his lips.
“N-no, not an empress either. I-I’m just...” The more I stuttered, the more pompous his smile became. “You’re exasperating,” I finally groaned.
“Look, you don’t have to like me, and I don’t have to like you. But Joseph? Well, he’s the only man around who can help you, so you’d best start trustin’ him.”
“I never said I didn’t,” I muttered. I was grateful when Daniel didn’t contradict me. “So will Joseph—er, will the Spirit-Hunters help me?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Daniel waved at me as if brushing away a fly. “Your letter was covered in spiritual energy. Joseph was gonna offer to help, but you... well, you got there at a bad time.” He dragged a thumb slowly across his neck. “Another one was found.”
“A headless man?” I squeaked.
“Yeah.”
My chest constricted, squeezing all the air from my lungs. A headless man? Elijah—what if it was Elijah?
I stepped dizzily to Daniel and grasped at his shoulder. He flinched.
“Land sakes, Empress.” In a single, fluid movement, he sprang up and slipped a sturdy hand beneath my elbow.
“D-do you think,” I tried to say. “Is it my—is it m-my...”
“It’s not your brother.” He lowered his face toward mine, and although his grass-green eyes were hard, his words were soft. “This boy’s family found him.”
“But...” My fingers dug into his bare forearm. “It could still... it’s possible that h-he could, Elijah could show up like that...” I knew the answer, but I searched Daniel’s face for some other reply.