Page 104 of Mortdale

“There are other leads, Alfred.”

And they all connected to the Basilica. To those cursed tunnels and the well. To Fredrick who’d risen from the dead. The same Fredrick who’d purposefully led me into town that day so I could see the burning witch. He’d clearly known my temper, that I’d be pushed to use magic and subsequently killed. The clergy was hiding something, I was sure of it. Or at least…something was hiding in there, using the Basilica grounds as shelter. I was close to cracking both of these eggs, to saving Ethel and leaving a solution behind for Logan to solve this Madness once and for all. But I knew I was running out of time. I could feel it in the way my body was starting to refuse obeying simple commands.

While the cold iron worked on the new samples we’d collected, we sat at his desk, having tea.

“Alfred,” I started, too many questions clawing at the walls of my brain. “You’re a man of science. You’ve sworn yourself to the academy of medicine to be honourable, to uphold the truth, to do no harm.”

The old human man took off his round specs, wiping them on the corner of his shirt. “What are you getting at?”

“How many of my sisters have died these past few years? I’m sure as head coroner you would know.”

He retracted back into himself, a shadow of something similar to fear covering his face. “My lady, I cannot—”

“What is this illness they speak of, Alfred? Is it truly that? An illness?”

His eyes lowered as he pulled his specs off again. “It is not. Not of the body, at least.”

The teacup shook as I lowered down on the table. “Please, Alfred. If you know something. Anything, just please. My friend’s life depends on it. The lives of many other innocent witches, too. I know it’s not just Meridian witches who are dying; Cassandra Duncan did, too.”

He swallowed and then sighed as he ran a hand over his bloodshot eyes. “I think it’s best if you see for yourself.” His fatigued gaze jumped to the door as he shakily reached for a piece of paper to scribble something that seemed to be an address on top of it. “This is where they’re buried.”

Nightshade Cemetery. Silverholm Street. Darkheim.

They’d been buried within my husband’s county. Not that far from the Duncan estate.

“Alfred?” I called, and all two-hundred and six bones in my body crushed under the weight of each letter I spoke. “Does my husband have anything to do with it?”

I’d doubted Gerda’s words from the start. Not even realising how easy I’d found it to trust him. How I still trusted him regardless. How I trusted his motives for hiding this from me. But I needed to know—I had to at least know. For Ethel, I had to exhaust every option I had to save her.

Strength had vacated my limbs as I waited for him to speak.

“It’s for you to decide how much hand he has in it.”

The tepid grey streets of Mortdale were swallowing me up. People pacing the streets blended into one floating dark wave of a haze as we rode west, back to Darkheim.

Logan leaned against the carriage wall as he read through the report Alfred and I had strung together after a second batch of tests. I was so close to unlocking a puzzle that had been costing countless lives but all I could think of was him. And the address that was still tucked in my corset. I was so close—to having an answer for Agnes that could save Ethel, to maybe putting an end to this whole nightmare that was plaguing my kind, to dying.

The new ruby-adorned watch wrapped around my wrist ticked for long, long painful moments while he read through every note Alfred and I had strung together.

“It was pretty conclusive for poison,” I said, tasting every heavy note in the air. “Both tests. We ran them three times.”

“Magical poison,” he slowly said, struggling to articulate the concept.

“Before I present my theory to you, it is important that you know every detail.” I set a photo on Logan’s hands and grabbed Liam by his shoulders, bringing him forward in his seat. “Tell him.”

Logan leaned back, narrowing his eyes on Liam. “Tell me what?”

“That day—you know which—we went to the Basilica,” I started.

“I know. He’s not entirely useless.”

I glared at Liam and turned back to Logan. “We saw him again. The acolyte who I’m pretty sure was a dead human living in Meridian only a short year ago, called Fredrick Newman.”

Logan grabbed the picture. “And you’re really sure it was him?”

I smacked Liam until he almost dropped off his seat. “Can confirm, boss.”

“And?”