Lockwood & Co: The Screaming Staircase (41 page)

‘No!’ I gave him my trademark L. Carlyle quizzical grin. ‘Lockwood . . . are you accusing me of being controlled by that ghost?’

‘Not at all. It’s just sometimes I don’t quite understand you. In the library, when you held the necklace out, you didn’t seem frightened in the slightest.’

I sighed; it was something that had been on my mind too, ever since it happened. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘to be honest, it wasn’t hard to guess the ghost would focus on Fairfax: I think we all could have predicted that. But you’re right. I
was
pretty sure she wouldn’t attack us again. She didn’t
tell
me, though. I sort of sensed her intentions. It’s a thing that comes with my Talent sometimes. I not only read the emotions of the past, but also, faintly, what the spirit’s thinking
now
.’

Lockwood frowned. ‘I’ve noticed once or twice you seem to know subtle stuff about the Visitors we fight,’ he said. ‘Like that ghost by the willow the other day. You said he was in mourning for someone dear . . . But maybe you heard him say that?’

‘No, he didn’t speak at all. I just felt it. I may have been wrong. It’s hard to know when to believe these feelings, and when not to.’ I picked up a chocolate truffle, toyed with it, and put it back down. I’d made a sudden decision. ‘The thing is, Lockwood,’ I said, ‘I
don’t
always get it right. I’ve made bad mistakes before now. I never told you about my last case before I came to London. I sensed the ghost there was a bad one, but I didn’t trust my intuition, and my supervisor didn’t listen to me either. Well, it was a Changer, and it fooled us all. But I
almost
saw through it. If I’d followed my deeper instincts, I might’ve got us out in time . . .’ I stared down at the tablecloth. ‘As it was, I
didn’t
act. And people died.’

‘Sounds very much like it was your supervisor’s fault, not
yours,’ Lockwood said. ‘Listen, Luce, you followed your instincts perfectly at Combe Carey, and because of that we all survived.’ He smiled at me. ‘I trust your Talent
and
your judgement, and I’m very proud to have you on my team. OK? So stop worrying about the past! The past is for ghosts. We’ve all done things that we regret. It’s what’s ahead of us that counts – right, George?’

George had kicked open the door. He had a crate of ginger beer in his arms. ‘Everyone happy?’ he said. ‘Why aren’t you both eating? We’ve a lot of food still to get through . . . Oh drat. I forgot the doughnuts.’

I got up quickly. ‘No worries,’ I said. ‘I’ll get them.’

It was cool in the basement, which was why we’d stored the food down there. After the warmth of the kitchen, the chill made me shiver a little and my flushed face sting. I pattered down the iron stairs, listening to the others’ voices echoing through the ceiling. It had been good to chat with Lockwood, but I was happy for an excuse to slip away. I didn’t find it easy thinking about the past, or about my close connection to the ghost. Not that I’d lied to him about it. I
hadn’t
been getting directions from the girl – at least, not
consciously
at any rate. Unconscious communications? To be honest, that was hard to know. But this particular evening I wasn’t truly bothered either way. Tonight we were relaxing; tonight we were having fun.

The doughnuts were in the high-security storeroom, which was the coolest place of all. I’d put the tray on a shelf just inside. It would be easy to reach; I went in without bothering to switch on the lights. As soon as I did so, I tripped over a large box of prawn cocktail-flavoured crisps that George had helpfully left lying in the middle of the floor. Losing my balance, I fell forward against the shelves, first knocking against something hard, then collapsing on something soft.

Easy to know what I’d sat on, at any rate. The doughnuts. Well, Lockwood could have those.

I got up, brushed sugar off my skirt, and reached in darkness for the tray.

‘
Lucy
. . .’

I froze. The door had swung shut. Four sticks of yellow light were all that showed; otherwise the room was black.

‘
Lucy
. . .’

A low voice, whispering directly in my ear. Far off, yet close at hand. You know the deal.

I didn’t have my rapier, I didn’t have my belt. I had no defences at all.

I stretched a hand back blindly, feeling for the handle of the door.

‘
I’ve been watching you
. . .’

I found the handle; pulled it a little, not too much. Not yet. The four sticks of light yawned yellow, splintering the
dark into an expanding mesh of grey. There in front of me, sitting on the shelf above the doughnuts: a humped shape beneath a spotted handkerchief.

‘
Yes
. . .’ the voice whispered. ‘
Go on . . . That’s it
.’

I reached out, pulled away the cloth. Today the plasm in the ghost-jar glowed pale and green. The horrid face was fully formed, and superimposed so precisely upon the skull beneath that I could hardly see the bones at all. The nose was long and the eye-sockets cavernous and wide. The mouth grinned evilly; pinpoints of light glinted in the centre of the sockets.

‘
About bleeding time
,’ the ghost said. ‘
I’ve been calling you for ever
.’

I stared at it.

‘
That’s right . . . Little me. Cuddle up close, and let’s have a chat
.’

‘Not a chance.’ I considered the jar. It was silver-glass, which kept the ghost trapped. I’d struck it when I’d fallen, but hadn’t broken it. The glass was whole. So what had changed?

‘
Oh, don’t be like that
.’ The face now wore a wounded look. ‘
You’re different from the others. You know you are
.’

I bent closer, inspecting the plastic seal at the top of the jar. Yes: up at the seal, one of the yellow flanges had twisted where I’d knocked against the jar. It had swivelled like a tap, exposing a little grille of iron that I hadn’t seen before.

‘
You’re not callous, like that Lockwood, or downright nasty, like that Cubbins
,’ the ghost went on. ‘
Ooh, the things he’s subjected me to, the cruel indignities! One time – you’d scarcely believe it – he put me in the bath and—
’

I reached out for the yellow tap. At once the mouth in the jar flexed urgently. ‘
No, wait—! You really don’t want to do that. I’ll make it worth your while. I can tell you things, you see. Important things. Like this. Death’s coming
.’ The mouth grinned wide. ‘
There. What do you think of that?
’

‘Goodbye,’ I said. My hand closed on the plastic.

‘
It’s nothing personal
,’ the ghost cried. ‘
Death’s coming to you all. Why? Because everything’s upside-down. Death’s in Life and Life’s in Death, and what was fixed is fluid. And it doesn’t matter what you try, Lucy, you’ll never be able to turn the tide—
’

Maybe not, but I could sure as hell turn the tap.

I did so. The voice cut out. I stared at the face in the jar. The mouth continued to move; the whole face shook. Bubbles fizzed and spiralled furiously through the plasm.

No. This was our night of celebration. No dumb ghost in a jar was going to spoil it for me.

I pulled the spotted cloth back over the top of the glass, picked up the tray, opened the door and left the storeroom. I crossed the basement and slowly climbed the spiral stairs.

Halfway up, I heard Lockwood roaring with laughter in
the kitchen. George was talking. He was in the middle of some anecdote.

‘. . . and then I realized he wasn’t wearing any! Imagine that! Spending eternity without your trousers!’

Lockwood laughed again.
Really
laughed, I mean. He’d thrown his head back, I could tell.

All of a sudden I wanted to be in there, sharing the joke with them. I hastened my steps. Bearing a tray of slightly squashed doughnuts, I climbed quickly out of the darkness towards the warm, bright room.

*   indicates a
Type One
ghost
** indicates a
Type Two
ghost

Agency, Psychical Investigation

A business specializing in the containment and destruction of
ghosts
. There are more than a dozen agencies in London alone. The largest two (the Fittes Agency and the Rotwell Agency) have hundreds of employees; the smallest (Lockwood & Co.) has three. Most agencies are run by adult supervisors, but all rely heavily on children with strong psychic
Talent
.

Apparition

The shape formed by a
ghost
during a
manifestation
.
Apparitions usually mimic the shape of the dead person, but animals and objects are also seen. Some can be quite unusual.
The
Spectre
in the recent Limehouse Docks case manifested as a greenly glowing king cobra, while the infamous Bell Street Horror took the guise of a patchwork doll. Powerful or weak, most ghosts do not (or cannot) alter their appearance.
Changers
are the exception to this rule.

Aura

The glimmer or radiance surrounding many
apparitions
.
Most auras are fairly faint, and are best seen out of the corner of the eye. Strong, bright auras are known as
other-light
.
A few ghosts, such as
Dark Spectres
, radiate black auras that are darker than the night around them.

Changer
**

A rare and dangerous
Type Two
ghost, powerful enough to alter its appearance during a
manifestation
.

Chill

The sharp drop in temperature that occurs when a ghost is near. One of the four usual indicators of an imminent
manifestation
, the others being
malaise
,
miasma
and
creeping fear
. Chill may extend over a wide area, or be concentrated in specific ‘cold spots’.

Cluster

A group of
ghosts
occupying a small area.

Cold Maiden
*

A grey, misty female form, often wearing old-fashioned dress, seen indistinctly at a distance. Cold Maidens radiate powerful feelings of melancholy and
malaise
, but rarely draw close to the living.

Creeping fear

A sense of inexplicable dread often experienced in the build-up to a
manifestation
. Often accompanied by
chill
,
miasma
and
malaise
.

Curfew

In response to the
Problem
, the British government enforces nightly curfews in many inhabited areas. During curfew, which begins shortly after dusk and finishes at dawn, ordinary people are encouraged to remain indoors, safe behind their home
defences
. In many towns, the beginning and end of the night’s curfew are marked by the sounding of a
warning bell
.

Dark Spectre
**

A frightening variety of
Type Two
ghost that manifests as a moving patch of darkness. Sometimes the
apparition
at the centre of the darkness is dimly visible; at other times the black cloud is fluid and formless, perhaps shrinking to the size of a pulsing heart, or expanding at speed to engulf a room.

Death-glow

An energy trace left at the exact spot where a death took place.
The more violent the death, the brighter the glow. Strong glows may persist for many years.

Defences against ghosts

The three principal defences, in order of effectiveness, are
silver
,
iron
and
salt
.
Lavender
also affords some protection, as does bright light and running
water
.

DEPRAC

The Department of Psychical Research and Control.
A government organization devoted to tackling the
Problem
. DEPRAC investigates the nature of
ghosts
, seeks to destroy the most dangerous ones, and monitors the activities of the many competing
agencies
.

Ectoplasm

A strange, variable substance from which
ghosts
are formed.
In its concentrated state, ectoplasm is very harmful to the living.

Fittes Manual

A famous book of instruction for ghost-hunters written by Marissa Fittes, the founder of Britain’s first psychical
agency
.

Ghost

The spirit of a dead person. Ghosts have existed throughout history, but – for unclear reasons – are now increasingly common. There are many varieties; broadly speaking, however, they can be organized into three main groups (see
Type One
,
Type Two
,
Type Three
). Ghosts always linger near a
Source
, which is often the place of their death. They are at their strongest after dark, and most particularly between the hours of midnight and two a.m. Most are unaware or uninterested in the living. A few are actively hostile.

Ghost-fog

A thin, greenish-white mist, occasionally produced during a
manifestation
. Possibly formed of
ectoplasm
, it is cold and unpleasant, but not itself dangerous to the touch.

Ghost-jar

A
silver-glass
receptacle used to constrain an active
Source
.

Ghost-lamp

An electrically powered street-light that sends out beams of strong white light to discourage
ghosts
. Most ghost-lamps have shutters fixed over their glass lenses; these snap on and off at intervals throughout the night.

Ghost-lock

A dangerous power displayed by
Type Two ghosts
, possibly an extension of
malaise
. Victims are sapped of their willpower, and overcome by a feeling of terrible despair. Their muscles seem as heavy as lead, and they can no longer think or move freely. In most cases they end up transfixed, waiting helplessly as the hungry ghost glides closer and closer . . .

Ghost-touch

The effect of bodily contact with an
apparition
, and the most deadly power of an aggressive ghost. Beginning with a sensation of sharp, overwhelming cold, ghost-touch swiftly spreads an icy numbness around the body. One after another, vital organs fail; soon the body turns bluish and starts to swell. Without swift medical intervention, ghost-touch is usually fatal.