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“Having one’s own personal resurrected berserker comes in handy,” the priest says mildly as he replaces the box in the drawer.
“Why, Father, that doesn’t seem very ‘love thy neighbour’ of you,” I smile.
Despite my fear, I think I like this guy.
“The Order darkens the doorstep of everyone with our powers, eventually.” Father Maxwell’s voice darkens. “They know not to come too close to this church now. Between Björn’s sword and the charms I’ve worked on the boundary, they never stick around long. But The Order keep a careful eye on me from afar. I’ve no doubt that they already know you visited me. You’re not the first rogue Lazarus who has found me.” He steeples his fingers.
“How do they know? Do they sense Bree’s magic?” Ambrose asks.
“No. You can chat to ghosts all you like and the Order won’t trouble you. It’s only once you figure out how to raise the dead that they get all biblical on your ass.” He says this with a pointed look at Ambrose that he, of course, totally misses.
“I don’t know how I do that,” I say, which isn’t entirely true. Now isn’t the time to tell him I’ve been training my powers with a group of ghost witches. “It’s just sort of happened by accident.”
“You’ve done it twice, I see. I think you have a fair idea of how our resurrection magic works.” There’s no fooling this priest. “My question for you, Bree Mortimer, is what do you want from me?”
“I want Jack the Ripper to be gone forever. I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not a wish I’m capable of granting. The Order will never stop hunting you. And I’m going to assume also that you don’t wish your newly Living friends to be ashes and dust once more?”
“No.” I reach across and place my hand protectively on Ambrose’s chest. “These guys have been my friends since I was a kid. I love…I love having them in my life for real now. I don’t want to lose them.”
“Then you need to learn how to protect yourself from the Order and the monsters they will send after you. You may have banished Jack the Ripper for now, but they’ll bring him back again, and he is only the first.”
I shudder. Father Maxwell leans forward. “I can help you protect yourself. But first, tell me what you know about your resurrection powers.”
I swallow. “Okay, so, ever since I had an accident when I was five and hit my head, I’ve been able to see ghosts—”
“That’s not entirely true.” Father Maxwell sips his coffee. “Our power is innate within us. We’ve always been able to see spirits, from the day we were born.”
Excuse me,what?
I let out a breath in a long wheeze. I’ve always been able to see ghosts? That doesn’t make any sense. Why don’t I remember?
But then Idoremember something. I remember Edward telling me that he was certain I could see him as a toddler. That I would sometimes point to him or offer him my toys. A shiver runs down my spine.
Ambrose squeezes my hand. “I always told you that you were special.”
“It takes years for all the facets of our ability to manifest,” Father Maxwell explains. “Bumping your head probably sped up the process. Jiggled something loose, as it were. We don’t usually gain the power to converse with ghosts until later in life. And all Lazarii carry within us the ability to restore ghosts to life. A ghost is simply a soul that has yet to cross over. All we do is give that soul a body, and all a body is, is stardust and energy.”
I never wanted to be special. I wished and wished that I could be normal. I often thought that if I just hadn’t gone out on my bike that day, I never would have been Bree the village freak. I stare down at Ambrose’s fingers wrapped around me, so warm and reassuring and real, and I realise that it’s not true anymore.
I’ve stopped wishing I was normal. I am who I am – I am Bree, and I’m a Lazarus. I always thought my power came because of a stupid accident, but it’s part of me. Itisme.
I don’t want to be normal, not if it means I never met Ambrose, Edward, and Pax. And I will fight until my dying breath to keep them at my side.
I look over at Father Maxwell, and he gives me another one of his shy smiles. “It’s okay, Bree Mortimer. You’re among friends here.”
“Okay.” I nod slowly. “Okay. So I was born with these powers. And since I was five I’ve been able to see and talk to ghosts. I live in this old manor house in Grimdale, so I see a lot of them around. Pax and Ambrose and Edward – he’s still a ghost, so we couldn’t bring him along today – they were my friends. Sometimes that was difficult, especially as a teenager. They wouldn’t shut up. Sometimes I forgot that no one could see them but me, and it made me look weird in front of the other kids. I was a target for bullies, and I guess I didn’t deal with that very well. When I turned eighteen, I went away travelling, and when I returned to Grimdale a couple of months ago and met my three ghost friends again, things were different.”
The priest raises a knowing eyebrow. “Different how?”
“Sometimes, I can touch them – actually feel the edges of them. And when they’re close to me, they can interact with the human world. They bump into furniture or hold things. Another Lazarus named Vera gave me a moldavite stone, and when I have that in my pocket, they can leave the house and travel with me for a time.”
“Hmmm, this moldavite stone is news to me,” Father Maxwell says. “This is why the Order tries to snuff us out. They want to prevent us from finding each other and sharing information about what we can do. But everything you’ve described is part of coming into your power. Your abilities have been developing all these years, but because you actively sought to stay away from ghosts, you didn’t notice until you returned.”
I’ve been wondering what’s changed since I returned, and it turns out that what’s changed…is me. “That’s not all. I’ve started seeing things.”
“Let me guess – silver cords stretching from ghosts?”
