The air in here is even colder than outside. Without the gaslights, we are in complete darkness.
“What’s in here?” Gabriel asks, his voice echoing.
“Darby,” I tell him. “And those who took her.”
“How do you know?” Emily asks.
“I keep seeing it,” I tell them. “In my visions. A tunnel. And there is a screeching sound that feels as if it will split my ears.”
“The dreams of a mesmerist are not to be ignored,” Gabriel offers.
“Good,” I say. “Follow me.”
The farther in we walk, the colder it gets. I am reminded of our trip to Chislehurst Caves. Finally, when I can no longer see my hand in front of my face, light flares at the edge of my vision. I turn around.
Emily is emitting a warm glow behind me, illuminating the tunnel. Though I have seen this before, it is still remarkable, this gift of hers. She gives me a small grin.
I look up. The ceiling is crossed with struts and curves, like the ribs of a giant animal. There is no night sky, nor moon or stars, only black. A metal sign on the wall reads NO EXIT in big red letters.
I lead the way, with Emily behind me and Gabriel in the rear. Emily’s light spreads out before us, revealing rows of white tiles that line the walls.
I squeeze the faerie stone again, trying to get some sense of where Darby is, but this time, nothing is revealed within its depths. I turn around to see how far we have come, but the entrance has disappeared from sight.
I continue on. We are walking over steel ties, which are spaced a few feet apart. Between them are gravel and stones.
I think of how Mephisto is behind all of this—?the rioting and disturbance. It is dreadful. The East End will be torn apart. A sense of suspicion suddenly settles over me. It grows even colder, and the hair on the back of my neck bristles. “Do you feel that?” I ask, my voice bouncing off the walls.
“Cold, innit?” Emily says.
“I feel it too,” Gabriel confirms.
“Something is at work here,” I say. “Some devilry.” I look ahead, keeping my senses alert.
We walk a little farther, and then I see it.
A few feet in front of us, a pale white face rises out of the shadows as if lit by an unseen moon. A tremor runs through my body. Emily and Gabriel gasp. I reach for the flap of my satchel and take out the lash.
It is a ghoul. Shredded rags hang about its body, and the stench of the grave flows in front of it. The eyes glow with malice. It crosses the distance between us in less than a second. Gabriel cries out a stream of words, and the creature flies back as if struck by a great wind. Black smoke wreathes around its head. It quickly lifts itself up and lunges again. I strike out with the lash, tangling it by the feet. Gabriel’s voice is rising. It sounds like bells . . . bells from a church tower. “No!” the ghoul screams. “Stop!”
The bells are all around me now, a solemn tolling, one that vibrates in the back of my skull and down my spine.
The fiend slashes out at me with a long arm. I am caught off guard, distracted by the ominous tolling and the creature’s long claw slashes my dress.
I raise the lash above my head, and my wrist instinctively twirls, getting ready to strike.
CRACK!
The lash coils around the ghoul’s neck and squeezes tight. It falls to its knees, struggling, choking for breath. Emily rushes in and places both hands on either side of the undead creature’s face. I can see the light pulsing within her, glowing brighter than ever before. “Die!” she screams.
“Emily!” Gabriel cries. “That’s enough!”
But Emily doesn’t listen.
“Die!” she screams again.
“Emily!” I shout.
Finally she pulls her hands away, breathing hard. The ghoul’s face is burned black. It moans and writhes on the ground. Gabriel takes out his little book and recites words in a language I have never heard before.
“Stop!” the undead creature hisses. “It hurts! Please!”
Gabriel is whispering now, almost as if he is praying. Quickly, I take out the compass and kneel to draw the Circle of Confinement at both points. My hands are bathed in golden light again. I set the compass down, remove the vial of holy water, and hold it over the circle.
“No!” the ghoul screams. “My master wants you! I only come to do his bidding.”
For a moment I hesitate. Balthazar said he had never heard of ghouls speaking. Maybe there is hope for this thing. Maybe it can be saved.
“Jess,” Gabriel says.
I turn away from the vile creature and look to him. He doesn’t have to say anything, for his thoughts are revealed in his eyes: there is no salvation for this unholy spirit. I know what I must do. What I have to do: strike down evil at any cost.
A bead of holy water trembles on the lip of the vial. Time seems to slow down for a second, until I tip the vial into the circle.