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"Parts, dried and pickled," I said. "And for me, way less disturbing than what's in that other room. This stuff--the dried bits at least--are right up my alley. I've identified some of them. Most seem to be animal." I lifted the bat wing. "A few hidden at the bottom are obviously human." I lifted a few more: the ear, the toe, the teeth and the "tube."

Jeremy frowned at the tube. "What is--? Ah, I see."

"Male."

"It would appear so."

"And almost certainly adult, despite the shrinkage." I waved at the jars. "I'm not so good with the pickled and the less whole pieces. You're better at anatomy, so I was hoping you could identify them."

He scanned the shelf. "Most are organs, primarily animal, though it's not always easy to tell."

I lifted my gaze to the floating fetus. "And that?"

"Pig."

"Whew."

He moved a couple of jars aside with his gloved hand, to get a look at the ones behind them.

"Before you get too involved in identification, there's something else I should show you."

I pointed the flashlight at the trap door.

"Now, that's promising." He opened it and peered down.

"See anything?"

"Not without going down." He turned around and started doing just that.

"Are you sure we should?"

He paused. "You're right. You'd better wait here."

That wasn't what I meant, but he'd already vanished into the darkness.

I knelt and leaned into the hole.

"Jeremy?" I passed down the flashlight.

"No," he said. "You keep--"

"Take it. All I'm doing is sitting here."

He came up a couple of stairs and took the flashlight, then disappeared, and the room went dark. Very dark. I lifted my hand and couldn't see it.

I tried not to think of those suspended eyeballs staring down at me.

A random thought flashed through my brain. Was there any chance I could reanimate those...bits? By accident? I tried not to think of it but, of course, thought of it all the more, images of B-grade horror movies flashing past, those bits and pieces taking on life--

Silly, of course. It's tough enough for a necromancer to bring a full body back to life. Not the sort of thing I could do accidentally--thank God. And if a zombie loses a body part--which they tend to do, with the rotting and all--the parts don't stay alive, creeping along of their own volition. But how much of a corpse had to be left in order to be raised? Would a head be enough? Were there any heads in those jars?

A light flickered in the hole. Jeremy coming back? The light bobbed away again. I stuck my head down as far as I could without toppling in headfirst, but the ladder stretched down a chute at least four feet long. I twisted around and put my foot on the first rung. Just a quick peek.

My toes slid off the rung and I had to catch the edge of the hatch to keep from falling.

Yet another reason why heels were a really bad idea. Maybe if I took them off...No, I'd probably miss the rungs in the dark and still fall down the ladder.

Someone laughed. I went still. A muffled male voice. Ghosts? A rattle, then the creak of an opening door, keys jangling against the steel.

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