Page 19

Rome

Pepper Crane’s office was near Midtown, so we hopped on the subway again.

Following Kasparian’s directions, we walked a block to an older building, rode the elevator to the thirty-third floor, and went down a beige carpeted hallway until we reached his office.

I silently read the neat block letters painted on the stippled glass window.

PEPPER CRANE

Following Kerry into the office, I looked around curiously.

Dominating the room was an old-fashioned desk with pigeon holes and a roll top.

Behind it, in an equally old-fashioned wooden chair, sat a transparent figure dressed in perfect Colonial attire, from waistcoat and breeches right down to the powdered wig.

He certainly looks like he’s been around since 1784 .

“Good morning,” the ghost said in a cultured voice, rising to greet us with the serious mien of a lawyer. “May I help you?”

Kerry motioned me forward and I took the hint.

“Good morning,” I said. “A friend of mine was murdered about a year ago. The Council of Wardens conducted an investigation, tried two men, and found them guilty. One was sentenced to life in the Box and the other was executed. I assumed justice had been done, but now I’m not so sure.”

Keen interest lit the ghost’s gray eyes and his stoic face became animated.

“Oh! Nephilim!” He grinned broadly. “And what is your friend’s name?”

“Zoe Becerra.”

“I will need something of hers to find her karmic signature.”

“Oh. Um.” I scrubbed one hand through my hair, angry at myself for not realizing that. “I don’t have anything. Sorry. I didn’t mean to waste your time—”

“A memory will work.” Crane shrugged and held out one hand. “I can use anything, but one with her face would help the most to confirm I’ve found the correct person. Just place your hand in mine when you have the memory at the forefront of your mind.”

“Will he lose that memory permanently?” Mira thought to ask.

“Yes, so be cautious, young warrior.”

With a nod, I quickly ran through my options. Part of me wanted to surrender to the memory of when I had to kill her, but the logical side of me knew that would be dumb. If I didn’t remember doing it, I wouldn’t believe anyone who told me otherwise.

In the end, I picked a memory of Zoe laughing at one of Spin’s stupid pranks shortly after she joined our team. There were lots of those in the early days, so it was no sacrifice and would cause no issues later.

Touching my fingers to Crane’s palm, I felt a sharp sting as he claimed the memory, then the ghost hustled to a floor-length mirror across from his desk and opened it like a door to reveal a yawning blackness within.

Muttering softly, it sounded like he was arguing with someone. After a few seconds, he reached one hand into the dark abyss and pulled out a small square of pure white paper. It was nearly as transparent as he was, but emitted an almost blinding glow.

“My favorite clients have all been nephilim.” The ghost turned back to face us. “Such intriguing investigations. Much more interesting than finding an ancient curmudgeon to ask him where he left the deed to the house.”

Crane pinched the postage stamp-sized scrap between his thumb and forefinger, a look of intense concentration on his face.

He was silent as his eyes wobbled from side to side as if he were reading something only he could see.

The longer he held it, the less light it produced until, at last, it was as dull as any piece of paper.

I glanced over my shoulder at the others, who mostly shrugged.

Just go with it, Mira mouthed and I made a face at her.

“Zoe Constanza Guerrero-Becerra,” Crane said at last, and I returned my attention to the ghost. “She is resting at peace, but there is a little unfinished business that concerns her. Not enough to hold her here. Only this small fragment of regret.”

“Is it something personal, or pertaining to her death?”

“Both. She wished she could return something she took, and she wanted to apologize to her friends.”

“We’ve already forgiven her. Is there more about what she stole? If I can, I would right that wrong for her.”

“She took a book from your Sanctuary’s Repository. From the Vault, no less.” Crane’s eyes scrolled wildly. “It’s very early Early Middle Ages, more of a scroll that was later bound in leather. Essentially priceless, as it is the only one of its kind.”

“Can you see how she stole it? Was she acting alone?”

“Hmm. Let me go deeper.” Crane was silent much longer this time before responding. “She crafted an illusion, a double of the book, which she left in its place. Thus, as far as the Vault was concerned, she entered with a book of power and left with one.”

“That would take a mighty illusion to fool the Vault.” Jax nudged my arm with his elbow. “Would Zoe have been able to manage that by herself?”

“I doubt it. She was a solid five bibliothecary. Not nearly high enough level for that.”

“But she could tailor well enough to turn dead animals into living ones.” Kerry turned to me. “She could have tailored a lesser artifact to appear as a greater one.”

“Good point. We can have Travis look into that. See if it’s possible.”

“She had no accomplice.” The ghost’s eyes finally came to a halt and stared straight ahead.

“Any idea on where it may be?”

“No. I am limited to her memories.” He shrugged.

“What’s the title of the book?” Gigi asked.

“It is written in Latin. Fortunately, in my day, everyone learned Latin.” Crane shot us a look of superiority, as if it were our faults we’d never been taught the language. “A rough translation would be Theories on Petrification and its Reversal .”

Petrification? Why would a necromancer be interested in petrification?

“Do you know the name of the black magician?” Crane asked. “I may know something more.”

“Khaydari,” Kerry told him, “and he was known for experiments. Usually evil ones. Does that help?”

“Yes. Oh, yes. Khaydari was famous for seeking a way to truly resurrect someone from the dead, not merely raise corpses as mindless zombies. Some speculate he wished to revive his lost love while others believe he was more interested in the financial rewards if his efforts should prove successful.” Crane shook his head.

“Regardless, he was ruthless in his pursuit. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Council caught up with him.”

“With your obvious wealth of knowledge about this black magician, if you had to make a guess, why do you suppose he would want such a book?” Gigi smiled sweetly, trying to charm him.

And it worked. The ghost preened under her attention.

“Necromancers have always been interested in petrification. The reasoning is, if one can be petrified and restored to life, perhaps the same spellwork could be applied to the dead. However, encasing a living being in stone suspends life, whereas death ends it. Personally, I do not believe those who raise the dead will ever find success in this way.”

“Shall we discuss payment for my services?” Then the ghost steepled his fingertips and smiled. “Since the information was readily available and only needed to be interpreted for you, the debt is relatively minor.”

“Uh, sure.” I reached for my wallet. “How much?”

“Such things cannot be purchased with anything so common as dollars and cents. Only with word or deed may you pay your debt.”

“What does ‘with word’ mean?”

“An equal exchange of information. That is the coin in which I broker, after all.”

I cut my eyes at Mira. She shook her head slightly and I agreed. Then I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye and looked over to see Jax had put his hand over Gigi’s open mouth.

“We have none to share at this time.” Kerry frowned at the ghost. “What about deeds?”

“Fortunately, I have two errands needing done, so you have a choice. You may deliver a package or free a friend of mine.”

I was suspicious of a courier job which was equivalent to freeing someone, but asked for the details.

“St. Patrick’s is waiting for a reliquary to be returned. A former client had need of it, but met with misadventure. Thus, it has remained in my care until I can see it returned.”

“Doesn’t sound so hard.” I narrowed my eyes.

“It is not. However, I cannot return it myself. First, can you imagine the humans’ reaction should they see a box floating waist-high from here to the cathedral?

Second, as a ghost, I cannot enter Holy ground.

Neither can that one,” Crane rolled his pale eyes over to Kerry.

“You carry far too much taint, nephilim.”

“I’ve got something else to do anyway.” Kerry shrugged.

“That’s no concern of mine.” The ghost opened one of the desk drawers, pulled out a cardboard box about the size of a brick, and held it out to me. “I assume you accept this task?”

“Yes.” I took the box. It was heavier than it looked.

“Go in the cathedral, find the Pietà, and lay the box at Christ’s feet. Now, is that all I can do for you?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I took a deep breath. “Do you know anything about four humans who call themselves The Alchemists?”

“Your necromancer Khaydari worked for them until his death.” Crane shrugged. “My business is with the dead, boy, not the living.”

“Then check your mirror for a girl named Astrid Kasparian,” Kerry growled deep in his throat. “She was murdered by one of them sometime within the last twenty years. Her father’s name is Wilhelm and she was neph. He showed me her photo. Is that enough to go on?”

“I will try.” Crane raised a pallid eyebrow, but did what Kerry asked.

No argument came from the mirror closet this time, and Crane returned in seconds, looking a whiter shade of pale than he had before. Rather than a piece of paper, his palms cupped a small, spherical jar made of a shiny black stone.

“Is that a regret, too?” Gigi asked.

Somehow, I didn’t think so.