Read The Baskerville Tales (Short Stories) for Free Online

made. “Oh, dear God,” she breathed.
    The features were warped and sagging, but she knew the face. Tom Cannon, Wollaston’s handsome young ne’er-do-well. He was supposed to be dead and buried. But he’d been a flirt and a daredevil in life, and apparently not even a bad case of putrefaction could keep him down. Suddenly, everything the deva had said made sense. Nature had been subverted, and the dead walked.
    “Tom?” she said in a tiny voice.
    Something like intelligence flickered across his features. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. He’d died from a blow to the head, but that was only the half of it. Decomposition was loosening his face from the bones beneath.
    “Why are you here?” Evelina croaked.
    To her infinite relief, he dropped the arm. “Garagargh?” he replied in a gurgling hiss.
    It was too much. Evelina’s stomach made another leap for freedom. Tom fell back a step, apparently repulsed. Now there was irony.
    Someone opened a window, light fanning out into the darkness. “Who is out there?”demanded a familiar voice: Mrs. Roberts poised to quash impertinent suitors. Evelina froze, still as a rooftop gargoyle.
    Obeying some ingrained reflex, Tom turned and loped a few yards away, slowing when he reached the safety of the shadows. Then he looked back at the academy, longing on his melted face. He was there for someone or something inside the school.
    Well, no one would be pining for the handsome rake now. Or was that true? The rector had a book of magic found inside the walls of Wollaston Academy. Love spells and cures for warts.
    Evelina was reasonably sure Tom wasn’t there for the warts.
    * * *
    She pounded on the door of the rectory. Mary opened it, her mouth dropping open. “Miss Cooper, whatever are you doing here at this time of night?”
    “I have to see Dr. Larch.” She pushed in, shouldering past the maid. It was past the time when she could afford to be a young lady. Dark magic was afoot.
    “You cannot see him!” Mary protested. “Miss Cooper, don’t force me to call Mr. Webster!”
    Evelina didn’t give her a chance to summon the rector’s manservant. Made bold by the light in the study window, she pushed past Mary.
    “Miss Cooper!”
    Evelina pushed through a set of glass doors. When she got to the room she wanted, she didn’t bother to knock.
    As she opened the door, she found Larch in a smoking robe, his bony feet tucked into carpet slippers. He looked up. “Miss Cooper? What is the meaning of this?”
    He was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by a snowstorm of books and papers, worse even than the mess she had seen at the church. The tiny writing desk was buried. So were the seats of chairs. One enormous volume was open on the carpet in front of him. He held a candle close, a forefinger marking his place on the page.
    She wasted no time on useless pleasantries. “It’s Tom. Tom Cannon. I saw him tonight.”
    Larch winced, fingering the few hairs still clinging to his head. “I know.”
    “You
know
?” Evelina squeaked.
    “I suspected.”
    She took a step forward, then sank down to see the rector eye to eye. “I need whatever information you have, Dr. Larch.”
    Mary looked on, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Should I make tea?”
    “I’m afraid this is no time for tea,” Larch replied.
    Evelina gave Mary a meaningful look. “I think Dr. Larch could use a cup, though.”
    The servant nodded and backed out. Evelina took the candle from Dr. Larch just before it dripped wax on the book. It ran over her fingers, but she bit her lip to stop the gasp of pain and set it carefully back in the holder sitting on the hearth.
    “Why don’t we have a seat, Dr. Larch,” Evelina said mildly, helping the rector up from the floor.
    “Thank you, Miss Cooper, but this is a most unsuitable time for a visit. I am working. I
was
reading.” His tone made it clear that she had interrupted.
    “My apologies, Dr. Larch, but these are extreme circumstances. I just saw a dead