Secondhand Souls (Grim Reaper 2)
Page 86
“Probably,” said Charlie.
“A few months ago, Bummer lost the hellhound powers she bestowed upon him,” said the Emperor, being helpful. “It was a relief, really. He had such a penchant for biting the tires off of Volvos. I don’t know why. He still enjoys barking at them.”
“Excuse me?” said Jean-Pierre Baptiste. “Could someone tell me what all of you are talking about, please?”
“Us,” said Carrie Lang. “Tell us.”
And so they did, running through the whole history of what had happened before, glossing over the bits about Audrey and the Squirrel People as if that was just a minor thing that had passed, not mentioning that they had been the ones who had saved Carrie Lang from the Morrigan by duct taping her up and hiding her in a dumpster, as she was still a bit traumatized by the event, focusing more on how Sophie had basically vaporized the Morrigan with a wave of her hand.
When they were finished, Carrie Lang said, “Whoa. A little kid?”
“She’s in the advanced reading group,” said Charlie.
Carrie Lang said, “So now you think there could be a thousand souls unretrieved?”
“Maybe more,” said Rivera. “I’ve gone back to the early names on my calendar. I haven’t found one soul vessel from those.”
“Plus all those on my calendar,” said Charlie. “While I was—uh—unable to retrieve them.”
“The Big Book revised edition still says that it would be really bad if they ended up with the powers of darkness,” Lily said, tapping the page in Rivera’s copy of the Big Book. “There’s no way to know how many souls have been missed.”
“I have a list,” said the Emperor, and they all turned to him. He pulled the journal from his map bag and held it up. “Here.”
Lily handed the Big Book back to Rivera and crossed the circle to get the Emperor’s journal. They all watched as she leafed through it, hundreds of pages of names in two, single-spaced columns per page, printed in the meticulous hand lettering of an engineer. “You have nice handwriting,” she said. She flipped back and forth. “You have dates next to them. These aren’t just for the last year.”
“I was given the dates along with the names.”
“Some of these go back to the 1700s.”
“Yes,” said the Emperor.
“Who gave you the names, Your Grace?” Charlie asked.
“I got many from the library. And public records. Inspector Rivera was very helpful with that. But some were given to me by the dead themselves. While I slept. The older ones. When I awoke, I would know all the names and the dates next to them.”
Lily closed the journal with a finger in it to hold her place. “So, basically, I’m the only one here who doesn’t have a superpower. Even the crazy homeless guy has a special power, but not me?”
“That’s not true, Lily,” Charlie said. “The Emperor may be fabricating all of this.”
“A distinct possibility,” said the Emperor.
Lily looked around the circle. “I need each of your date books. Cough ’em up.” She collected the date books from the five Death Merchants then slung her messenger bag over her shoulder. “Audrey, I need a place to work and I need your Wi-Fi password.”
“What are you doing, Darque?” Minty Fresh asked.
“I’m going to check the names in all of your date books against the Emperor’s list. Then I’m going to check as many of the names with the old dates with what I can find on the Web. If they match, we have a list of the unaccounted for.”
“There’s a table in the kitchen where you can spread out,” said Audrey, standing. “And an outlet where you can plug in your laptop.”
As Lily followed Audrey out of the parlor she grumbled, “I feel like the accountant for the Justice League. If someone finds a magical cat or an enchanted stapler or something, I’m calling dibs, you got it?” She looked around the circle as everybody nodded. “Good, give me half an hour.”
While Audrey was out of the room, Minty said to Charlie, “So when do you have to go back to painting the bridge?”
“I don’t. They offered me a disability settlement. Post-traumatic stress. I can take the settlement or they’ll train me for a job that’s not on the bridge. The gardens or the tourist center.”
“Take the settlement, and the time off,” said Fresh. “Get your shop up and running again. You saved the city, gave your life, really. THE MAN can help you out for a while.”
“I know,” said Charlie, fidgeting in his chair. “But whenever I used to hear that expression I always thought I was THE MAN.”