Billy Bones: Beyond the Grave

Chapter 5

I looked under what was left of the bed and mattress. There was nothing there.

“I think it was under the bed,” I said.

Liz shook her head. “Looks like it’s gone now.”

Miesha fingered the curtains. “And it looks like someone went to a lot of trouble to find it.”

Liz nodded. “Come with me,” she said. “We need to talk to Gertrude. Lexicons don’t just go missing.”

We followed her out the door into the elongated corridor. Liz kept a furious pace. As we hustled to keep up with her, the hand of the strange man kept jumbling around in my pocket. I held it while I jogged down the hallway, wondering when I would get a chance to remove it. The woman in the market had given me a suggestion I was itching to try out, but I hadn’t had a moment alone — not even to use the washroom.

And as I thought about it, I hadn’t noticed any bathrooms. Nor did I even feel like I had to go since I arrived in the Afterlife. I hadn’t eaten either. Mind you, I wasn’t feeling hungry. I figured maybe neither of those mattered now that I was dead.

We traveled for what felt like an eternity through the corridor. It was almost as if we were in one of those dreams where you run, but you don’t really get anywhere. We kept passing the same light fixtures and paintings on the walls. It must have been around the fifth time we passed a painting of some stodgy old man holding three keys that Liz came to a halt. She faced the painting and pulled out the one Jeeves had given her. She held it up. The man on the painting wasn’t holding three keys. There were two painted-on keys and a slot to place the third key in.

Liz put it in its proper place, and the key became part of the painting. Then it slid back, revealing an entrance to a darkened corridor.

“Cool,” I muttered. Miesha and Kenji had a look of wonder on their faces that matched what I was feeling.

Liz reached inside and turned the knob on a wall-mounted light. The corridor lit up. It was long, but not like the one we had just left. There were mirrors along the walls, but we could only see our ourselves in every other one. The rest were just black glass that reflected nothing.

There was one door, at the very end. It had a large gargoyle hanging on it, arms crossed in front of him.

“Gertrude’s waiting for you,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

“I figured,” Liz said. “Any idea what it was?”

The gargoyle shook his head. “How should I know? No one talks to me since I was placed on this door. I’d be more useful hanging on a log. Why, if you ask me—”

Liz yanked the door open, muffling the gargoyle’s complaining.

The room that awaited us was enormous, almost the size of a school gymnasium, except it was domed. Every wall was loaded with books, as were the rows upon rows of bookshelves. There were a few round tables scattered about — some with large astrolabes on them, others with cauldrons. The floor was filled with various circles and symbols. There were locked wardrobes against some of the walls, and the room had five doors, spaced evenly apart. The dome, itself, was made of glass and open to the sky above.

It was then that I noticed it was almost dawn.

Kenji saw it too, and pointed. “Daylight is coming,” he whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Liz said. “That glass is tinted. Nothing will happen in here.”

A huge sigh escaped Kenji’s lips.

Miesha didn’t even look up. She marched right in and looked about. “Where is this Gertrude?” she asked. “I want to know who stole my book.”

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room with the exception of the four of us and Goliath.

“You’re standing in her,” Liz said. “Gertrude is the essence of Barclay Mansion.”

Miesha didn’t look impressed. “That is ridiculous,” she said.

Liz rolled her eyes and strode over to one of the cauldrons. She grabbed a handful of powder from the table and tossed it in. The bubbling cauldron flashed, and smoke swirled upwards and thickened. Eventually it started to take a form — that of a woman with long hair.

Liz pointed to it. “If it makes it any easier, you can call this Gertrude.”

The smoke woman nodded to Liz, but said nothing.

“Who took the books, Gertrude?” Liz asked. She had her hands on her hips.

The smoky woman raised her arm and pointed.

Her finger was aimed directly at me.