“What did you do?”
“I did what they had brought me to do. I worked on my part of the machine. Pavel was my watchdog, but it was a wonder that simpleton could even work the buttons on his coat—he had no idea what I was creating. He watched me build it. He even helped. He had the chemicals I asked for delivered by the barrelful. By the time I had finished, it was too late to undo what I had done.”
“The explosion! You’re the one who sabotaged Poplin’s project! That was you!”
We were hovering outside the building again now. The neighborhood was coated in velvet darkness until the bomb went off with the light of a miniature sun right in the heart of the city. Cogs and pipes and bricks rocketed past, and when the light died down enough to see anything, the building had been reduced to rubble and fused scraps of metal. A broad sheet of steel halfway down the hillside shifted, and out from underneath it crawled Howard Carson.
“You survived!” I said.
“Nearly—but we wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had, now would we?” said Carson’s ghost. Below us, a second figure whipped in front of Howard Carson with inhuman speed. Pavel’s hair looked even thinner from above. He was short, and his clothes were old and frayed, but that made him no less intimidating as he rounded on the battered scientist.
Pavel was enraged. He gripped Carson’s shirtfront and held the man’s feet off the ground as he roared a stream of curses at him. Carson attempted to land a punch across the pale man’s face, but Pavel batted his fist away like it was a pesky fly. Carson groaned. His hand hung at an unnatural angle from the wrist. Pavel snarled. Two sharp fangs glistened in the moonlight, and in another second they were buried in Carson’s throat.
Beside me, Carson’s ghost chuckled.
“You just died!” I said. “What about that is funny?”
“My last invention,” the spirit replied. “It was crude, but effective.” He nodded down at the scene and I saw Pavel reel backward. The vampire howled in pain and surprise, clutching at his mouth. When his hand dropped I saw that he was missing a tooth.
The Carson standing beneath us grinned at the small victory. It was a tired, defiant smile, as though he knew it would be his last. Just beneath his collar glinted a glimmer of bronze. In another instant the pale man was upon him again. He ripped a concealed metal guard off of Carson’s neck and hurled it down the hill with a clatter. His fingers buried themselves in the man’s jugular and the scene went suddenly black.
Howard Carson’s ghost hung in the empty void beside me. “And here we are,” he said.
“That was very noble of you.”
Carson shrugged. “I was a dead man anyway. I couldn’t leave my Jenny with that awful machine hanging over her. The Dire Council had made me their puppet, but I would be damned if they were going to use my life’s work to make puppets out of everyone I ever loved. It’s best he finished me off, really. If I had managed to escape they would have come for me. They would have come through Jenny to get me. This is better. I hope she’s living a happy life without me.”
I cringed. “She hasn’t been entirely unhappy,” I hedged.
“What is it?”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Carson,” I said. “You did the right thing, but Jenny was already—” I swallowed. “They had already come for Jenny, long before you demolished the building.”
Carson’s expression hardened. “No. She isn’t dead. I would have felt her cross over. I’ve searched!”
“She didn’t cross over,” I said. “She waited for you. She’s up above. She’s outside the gate right now.”
Carson’s eyed scrutinized my face as though searching for a lie.
“It’s true,” I said. “Come with me! Come and see for yourself. And I have more than enough obols left to pay the boatman to ferry us both.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You could, Mr. Carson, and you should. You did the right thing all those years ago—but it isn’t over yet. Help us stop the Dire Council from using your research. Help us lay your past mistakes to rest once and for all. Besides,” I added, “you’ve left Jenny waiting long enough, don’t you think?”
Hope crept into Howard Carson’s eyes tentatively, feeling out the unfamiliar territory like a flame exploring the contours of a still-green branch. When it took hold at last it burned hot. “Take me with you.”
Chapter Thirty
We descended the stairs toward the fiery azure light of the river. I felt gravity returning with each step until my feet once again found solid purchase on the rocky stairs. It was as though my soul knew that it belonged in those dark tunnels in a way that it had not belonged in Carson’s private corner of the hereafter. As we approached the dock, I could see the ferryman’s slender ship already approaching. I pulled out Jackaby’s leather purse and passed it over to Carson.
“Here, take one of these,” I said. “You’ll need it for the trip.” Carson peeked inside and pulled out the petrified string of sheepgut. “Why will I need this?”
I grabbed the strip and stuffed it in my pocket. “Not that—a coin. Take one of the coins to pay your passage.”
Carson nodded and took out an obol. His eyes were on the water as he passed the pouch back to me.
Charon was pressing toward us with measured strokes. He was nearly at the platform before I realized the boatman was not alone. A tall figure stood in the boat behind him. The stranger wore a crimson shirt framed by a pristinely tailored suit in a shade of midnight black so pure that I could barely tell where his jacket ended and the darkness of the cavern began. Trying to make out any details made my eyes hurt.
I was so preoccupied watching their approach that at first I did not notice Howard Carson nearing the water’s edge ahead of me. Tendrils of blue and black writhed within the flames at his feet, churning and swelling as he stepped up to the shoreline.
“Wait! Mr. Carson, don’t—” I called out, but I was too late. He was leaning over, inspecting the ethereal flames, when an eager coil unfurled itself like a whip and snapped around his neck. Carson was hauled face-first into the Stygian waters.
I threw myself forward and seized his legs, pulling back with all my strength. The surface boiled spitefully in response to my efforts. Inches from my skin, the tendrils of liquid flame danced and taunted. I braced my feet against the dusty shore, but Carson only slid down farther. In the dark water below, the undulating forms took shape. Countless scores of marble gray hands—hands with too many fingers—all strained and grasped at him, clutching at his shirt and tugging him down by his hair. I pulled and kicked at the earth, but with all my strength I could not draw him back. I had taken Howard Carson from his eternal reward and delivered him to this.