Mercifully for Pandora, she finally blacked out, preventing her from bearing witness to the horror that was to come.
Gravedigger had no idea of the exact spell that the Norse sorcerer had used to bind Pandora but she had found similar rituals in her library. There was no reason to think that she’d fail to successfully imprison her enemy but Gravedigger knew that such things were very specific. It was possible that the binding spell could be much stronger or weaker than the other, along with possibly unforeseen side effects.
Still, it was the best idea that she had been able to come up with.
With only a little hesitation, Gravedigger placed one hand on Pandora’s head and the other atop The Silver Skull.
Then she began to chant. The words were incredibly old and many of the deities being invoked were unknown to modern man. They still had power, which was proven when Pandora’s body began to shake and a milky white substance oozed from her nostrils, turning slowly in the air before finding passage into The Silver Skull. Gravedigger continued her chanting through the entire process, which took far longer than she anticipated. By the time she was finished, she was exhausted and her breathing was ragged. She knew she needed medical treatment. Even with her faster-than-normal healing, there was a limit.
Gravedigger wrapped up The Silver Skull and then took stock of the body that had been left vacant by Pandora. She had wondered if there was a chance that Locke might be able to resume control of the body but there was no pulse and she wasn’t breathing.
The threat of Pandora was over, her spirit locked away once more. It seemed a cruel end for a woman who had given in to mere curiosity but if there was one thing that Charity had learned, it was that life was rarely fair.
PANDORA’S MIND EXISTED in the void once more, adrift in the miniature universe that lay within The Silver Skull. She wanted to scream but she had no mouth. She wanted to beat upon the walls of her prison but she had no hands.
She had nothing.
She was alone.
And then she felt it; a mournful psychic wail, of despair and loneliness.
Desperately, she sought it out and finally located its source: Locke. The woman’s spirit had been yanked out along with her own.
Pandora finally reached out to her and the two embraced on a spiritual level.
“I survived centuries in here,” Pandora thought/said and she knew that Locke sensed her words. “That was when I was alone. Now we have each other. The time will come when we are freed once more. We merely have to be patient. In time, all will be ours.”
Locke said nothing, still lost in her suffering.
CHARITY GRACE OPENED her eyes and found that Mitchell was lying next to her, a smile on his lips. “Good morning,” she whispered, leaning in for a quick snuggle.
His arm went over her and he kissed the top of her head. “You missed the big announcement at breakfast.”
“You shouldn’t let me sleep so late.”
“I couldn’t wake you with a marching band.”
With her voice buried into his chest, her words had a muffled quality to them. “So what announcement are you talking about? If you’re going to say that Li’s pregnant, I’m going to scream.”
“No. It was about Mortimer. He’s planning to run for Mayor.”
“Mayor? Of what?” Charity pulled away and pushed herself up onto her elbows.
“Sovereign.”
“That’s insane. The election’s only a year away and nobody knows him.”
“Insanity defines a lot of what we do, I think.”
“The sort of scrutiny he’s about to get could shine a lot of light on us.”
“True. But just think how convenient it would be to have one of us sitting in the Mayor’s office.”
Charity closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She had a dozen thoughts running through her head all at once but eventually she shoved them all out of the way. “No. I’m not going to worry about this.”
“You’re not?” Mitchell asked in surprise.
“No. It’s his decision and I’ll support him if that’s what he wants to do.” Sliding out from under the sheets, Charity pulled on a robe and tied it around her slender form. “Let’s take everybody out for lunch to celebrate.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Mitchell inquired, arching an eyebrow.
“That demon… What he said about beating myself up and then talking to Pandora… it made me realize something. I have three years and that may be all I get. I want to do it right and I want to earn my way to having a lot more but I shouldn’t ignore the gift I’ve been given. I have friends and a home. I have something that I believe in… all for the very first time. No matter what The Voice decides three years from now, I have today and I shouldn’t waste it.”
Mitchell nodded. “I like that way of thinking.”
“Good, because I’m going to try and do more of it. Simply killing the bad guys isn’t enough to make me the kind of person I want to be and I don’t think it’s going to be enough for The Voice, either. I need to be… a better me.” With a suddenly wicked smile, she undid her robe and let it fall. “Want to join me in the bath?”
Mitchell stood up, laughing. “I like this way of thinking, too. Let’s do more of it.”
They embraced and in that moment, Charity did not think of monsters or killers or the value of her soul.
She thought only of her friends and the love she felt for them.
And The Voice was pleased.
GRAVE MATTERS
OR…
I THINK THEY’RE BUGGING MY HOUSE!
Hello, Faithful Readers! I hope you enjoyed the second adventure of Charity Grace — it was certainly a lot of fun to write.
As I said before the first book came out, I wanted to do a series that was a little bit different than what I’d written before and which would stand out among the hordes of New Pulp series that are coming out. Having a female lead who didn’t rely upon her sexuality to get by was one difference and having her set right smack-dab in the middle of pulp’s golden age was meant to reinforce that. There are several excellent modern-day New Pulps that star female heroes but the ones that are set in the 1930s and 1940s tend to fall back on the femme fatale mode of characterization… and I wanted to have a hero who was a bit more than that. Hopefully Charity Grace is a character that you enjoy as a person.
I also wanted someone who has a very defined purpose… but one that went beyond the usual revenge motivation. Charity is driven to kill evil men but it’s part of a spiritual quest — and as we had mentioned in the first book and reinforced in this one, it’s not enough to simply be a vigilante who offs the bad guys. She has to become a better person.
As I was working on this novel, I came across some artwork for DC’s new Pandora comic. Their anti-heroine by that name wears a cloak and wields pistols, delivering harsh justice to her enemies. Visually, she bore a rather interesting resemblance to Gravedigger. Considering that I was already writing a story that featured Pandora as the villain, having a DC Comics character that looked so much like my hero was an odd coincidence. In their version, Pandora unleashed the Sins from a box that was shaped like a golden skull. In mine, Pandora herself had been trapped in a silver skull!
Despite those few similarities, the plotlines that DC and I ended up using were quite different. Even so, it was close enough that I rewrote one of my scenes to better define the differences between my version of Pandora and theirs. In the end, theirs is meant to be a hero. In mine, she may be sympathetic but she’s also all kinds of crazy.