“Mate?” Richards said, squinting. “Where the hell are you from, boy?”
Mitchell’s jaw tightened at the continued use of the term ‘boy’ but he kept his tone civil. “I’m English.”
“Didn’t know they had Negroes in England!”
I’m sure that’s not the only thing you’re don’t know, you ignorant idiot. Mitchell kept those thoughts to himself, however. Even in 1937, one had to be careful about confronting racism too directly. “We’re all over the place,” he said. “Just like your people.”
“Or rats,” Richards pointed out. He took his hand away from Mitchell’s arm and turned to grab hold of a clipboard. “I’m gonna need you to sign in and let me know the name of the person you’re here to see. We keep track of all you people after we had those supply thefts last fall.”
Richards turned around but found that Mitchell was already gone. With a curse, the guard tossed the clipboard back onto his desk and muttered something quite unkind.
Thankfully for his continued existence, Mitchell didn’t hear him. The Englishman had made his way upstairs, where he ran into Li, Cedric and Mortimer. The looks on their faces made his heart sink. Had he arrived too late? Was she dead?
Li seemed to sense his concern and moved towards him. Dressed in a red dress adorned with a yellow floral pattern, she looked like a ray of sunshine in the drab interior of the hospital. She embraced him and then pulled back, studying his face. Without him even asking, she launched into an explanation, telling him that the curator’s daughter at the Museum had called for the ambulance and then for a particular doctor, one who usually did specialty work for Assistance Unlimited.
As if sensing that he was being talked about, Doctor Hancock emerged from a nearby room. Mitchell knew of him by reputation and was pleased to see him. He was on call 24/7 for the exclusive use of Assistance Unlimited. He was paid so handsomely that he had been able to abandon his traditional practice, despite having had the reputation for being one of the top practitioners in Sovereign.
Hancock looked at the assembled group and asked, “Are all of you here for Miss Grace?”
“We are,” Cedric confirmed. “How is she?”
“The good news is that the bullet passed right through her without hitting anything vital. If she hadn’t gotten medical treatment as soon as she did, she might have been at risk of bleeding out. As it is, she’s stable. In fact, she’s recovering faster than anybody I’ve ever seen.”
Mitchell exchanged a knowing glance with Li. Charity wasn’t quite human anymore. She not only had access to the combined muscle memory of all the previous Gravediggers but she was faster and stronger than a normal woman her age should be. Apparently, that translated into being healthier all around.
“Can we see her?” Mortimer asked.
“Well, she is awake but I’d be cautious about overwhelming her. I think it might be best if one or two of you went in, perhaps whomever is closest to her?” Hancock’s eyes naturally went to Cedric and Mortimer and Mitchell sighed. Even good men like the doctor here couldn’t help but be subtly racist in some regards. Of course the two white men would be closer to Charity than the Oriental girl or the Negro, right?
Cedric lightly pushed Mitchell forward. “Go.”
“You coming, Li?” Mitchell asked.
“I can wait,” she said knowingly.
Mitchell stepped around Doc Hancock and thanked him. He stepped into Charity’s room and was shocked to see that she was on her feet, getting dressed. She was reaching around to zip up the back of her dress, a grimace on her pretty face.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, careful to keep his voice down.
Flashing him a smile, she responded, “Doing what all of you should have been doing already. Trying to find the bastard who shot me.” Her expression suddenly faltered. “Please tell me you didn’t leave the Skull unprotected. Isn’t anyone back at Hendry Hall?”
“I made sure to lock it up in the safe before I left.” He moved towards her and wrapped her in his arms, enjoying the smell and feel of her. “You should be in bed.”
“I like hearing you say that but I’m feeling better by the minute.” She kissed him lightly and turned, offering her back to him. “Finish zipping me?”
“I should refuse.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Yeah, damn it, I do.” With an exaggerated sigh, Mitchell ran the zipper back up into place. “Hancock’s going to have a fit if we march you out that door.”
“Already thought of that.” Charity moved away and grabbed her shoes in one hand. She unlatched the window and peered out. She was on the second floor, a short drop to the ground, relatively speaking. “Meet me outside, won’t you?”
Before Mitchell could say anything, she was gone, having leaped out of the window.
“You’re the craziest woman I ever met,” Mitchell muttered under his breath.
BACK AT HENDRY Hall, the group gathered in the study, each taking their usual places. Gravedigger sat in her uniform, sans mask, at the desk that once belonged to Josef. Mitchell sat to her right, his chair facing hers. Cedric and Li were side-by-side next to the fireplace, whispering to each other. Mortimer, always the odd man out, stood by the door, his back pressed against it.
The Silver Skull had been retrieved from its spot in the safe and was now resting on the desk. It seemed to have taken hold over the minds of everyone in the room, for their eyes kept drifting back to it.
“Tell us again what the runes said,” Li asked, turning away from Cedric and focusing on the task at hand. Whatever he had just said to the young Asian girl had brought a flush to her cheeks. From the twinkle in her eyes, it had been some sort of suggestion that she had found most agreeable.
Gravedigger sighed. They had been over these details again and again since her return. “The ageless woman sleeps in The Silver Skull. To awaken her is to begin the end of times. The woman who digs graves shall be her other.”
“We need to destroy that thing,” Mortimer said. When everyone turned to look at him, he gave a shrug of his shoulders and added, “Every Gravedigger has an ‘Other.’ That’s the person who mirrors you in some way. They’re your equal not only physically but also mentally and emotionally. Every time you face them, it’s a deadly confrontation. If your Other is in there, you don’t want her getting loose. I was lucky to have killed mine, but I’d guess that the majority of Gravediggers who don’t survive their three-year tenure are done in by their Other.”
It was Li, always the clever girl, who asked the obvious question. “So if The Voice empowers Gravedigger, then who’s the power behind The Other?”
“Whoever or whatever it is,” Charity responded, “They work in opposition to what I’m doing. That’s all that matters. From what I’ve gathered, though, it works a bit differently than the Gravedigger thing. There’s no three-year limit on them, they’re bound to their master forever and are used as specific foils for the Gravediggers.”
Mitchell nodded. “Then I guess I’m in agreement with Mortimer. No need to let her out, not if we can help it.”
“That’s the problem,” Gravedigger replied. “How do we do that? It’s not easy to simply destroy this thing,” she said, tapping The Silver Skull. “If it was, it would have been long ago. And if we did destroy it, who’s to say that wouldn’t just release Pandora anyway?”
“So then we dig a big hole, fill it with concrete and let it sit.” Mitchell grinned. “Let her rot in that Skull.”
“You have something else in mind, don’t you?” Li asked, staring at Charity. The two women had known each other longer than anyone else in the room and their bond was a strong one. With a devilish grin, Li clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “This is going to be very dangerous, isn’t it?”