Ghosts by Gaslight - Jack Dann [215]
“It’ll kill him,” said Rothac.
“Could I be so lucky?” I said.
The handyman and I watched as the ghost left Chibbins behind, turning in circles, wildly waving his arms. Now it bore down on us. I thrust my blade forward for protection, only realizing then how useless it would be. Only a few yards from us, it stopped advancing. There came a loud popping noise from it, like a bottle of Sparkling Vertigo hastily uncorked, and something large and glistening shot out from within the green folds of mist. Whatever it was passed me by at a furious speed, and then I heard Rothac grunt. I turned to see him fallen back, his lantern on the ground. A huge icicle had pinned him through the chest, its partially shattered point, jutting from his back, keeping him inches off the snowy earth. I looked back to the mist, expecting the same fate, but the phantom had dispersed into night. Instead, Chibbins was beside me, very much alive.
“Chibbins is tired,” he said, and I beat him remorselessly.
THE NEXT MORNING at breakfast, I described to Mrs. Barlow the demise of Rothac. We sat in a parlor with a wall-size window, looking out at the snow and willows. Sunlight streamed in, and I was happy for its comfort. Ludiya was there, and in the telling of the harrowing incident, I tried to make myself seem courageous and coolheaded. At one juncture, where I described wrestling with the spirit in a battle of life and death, the young Miss Barlow smiled and nodded. Luckily, Chibbins, now with a blackened left eye and a missing front tooth, was eating and could not surface to contradict me.
“So do you still doubt what I told you of my husband’s death?” asked the old woman.
I couldn’t verbally acknowledge my mistake. Instead I very subtly shook my head.
“Last night, after it killed Rothac, it came to my room,” said Ludiya. “It slithered up under my covers. Did I mention that I wear no sleeping apparel? I woke to its ghostly tongue, lapping my flesh. The green mist licked me from head to foot, and then I heard the voice of the Sanctity of Grace in my mind. She told me, ‘By tomorrow night, I will have consumed you all.’ Then she vanished.”
I must confess to a certain tightness in the trousers after hearing Ludiya’s tale; an exquisite confusion stirred my thoughts.
“Physiognomist Cley, you and Physiognomist Chibbins must drink the Beauty and do battle with the phantom in a more substantial form. I know you can defeat her and save us,” said Miss Barlow. She reached across the table and laid her hand on mine.
My trepidation toward drinking Rothac’s sweet swill evaporated with Ludiya’s touch. I looked momentarily at the young woman’s mother, and that wrinkled visage was staring at our nearly clasped hands, smiling and nodding. I quickly drew my hand back.
“We’ll see,” I said.
Chibbins threw his spoon into the empty oatmeal bowl in front of him. “I summon the spirit,” he announced and belched loudly.
Mrs. Barlow winced. “The Ministry of Physiognomy is turning out some real chaff these days,” she said.
“My apologies for my partner,” I said, “but as you can see, I had a word with him about it last night.”
“I was referring to you, Cley,” she said.
“What’s that?” asked Ludiya, pointing to the center of the table.
I looked to see the green mist rising from the dried gourd centerpiece. In a flash, it coalesced into the rippling winding sheet form I’d witnessed on the path the previous night. Chibbins applauded, but I was not so happy to see the thing again. Ludiya screamed. Mrs. Barlow stood and shook her fist at the apparition. “Be gone,” she shouted in a cracking voice.
When I heard the popping noise, I dove to the floor. Somebody gave a sudden gasp of pain. When I finally lifted my head above the tabletop, I noticed the Sanctity of Grace had, of an instant, disappeared, and I remembered Rothac saying, “She hears everything, sees everything, is everywhere.” The next thing I knew, Ludiya was crying hysterically. I turned my attention to her mother, now pinned to the back of her throne with a thick icicle through the mouth. Blood and shattered