A Plunder of Souls (The Thieftaker Chronicles) by D. B. Jackson Read Free Book Online

her tavern, along with oils, herbs, and minerals that were said to enhance the power of conjurings. Most of the bone Janna sold came from animals rather than people, but he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she had vials of both. And there were those who trafficked in gruesome goods regardless of whether they could cast spells. A market for bone had thrived for years in this city, and thieves looked for profit where they could, caring not a whit for the sensibilities of others, even in matters of death and the sanctity of a grave.
    “Members of our congregation deserve to know that their loved ones can lie undisturbed in their graves,” Caner said. “They should not have to fear that the poor souls will be profaned by rogues and craven thieves.”
    “Of course, reverend sir. I understand completely.”
    “We wish to engage your services, Mister Kaille. We want you to find the villains who have been desecrating these graves. You will, of course, have our full cooperation. Whatever you need, Doctor Gardiner and Mister Pell will see to it. You have my word on that. In return, we are prepared to pay you five pounds. As I understand it, we would pay you some of that now, and—”
    “No,” Ethan said. “I’ll do what I can to help you, but I won’t take your money.”
    Pell shook his head. “Ethan—”
    “I’ll not take payment from a house of God. Besides, if all you say is true, this is a dark business; no one should profit from it.”
    Mister Caner blinked, but said nothing.
    Pell glanced sidelong at the rector before saying, “Thank you.”
    Ethan faced Caner again. “I’ll do my best to find those responsible, reverend sir.” A small grin tugged at his lips. “And in deference to you, I’ll also do my best to…” His eyes flicked toward Gardiner. “To use conventional means to the extent possible.”
    That, of all things, brought a smile to Reverend Caner’s face. “You’re most kind, Mister Kaille. I was reluctant to hire you, as you might imagine. But Trevor insisted you were the right person for this task. I see now that he was right. When can you begin?”
    “Immediately. If one of you would be so kind as to show me the disturbed graves.”
    The rector nodded. “Yes, of course. Silvester? Trevor?”
    Gardiner gestured toward the chapel entrance. Ethan bid good day to Caner and Troutbeck, and allowed the warden and the young minister to lead him out into the sunshine.
    It had been cool when Ethan left the Dowsing Rod a short while before, and dew had lain heavy on the lawns along Treamount Street. But the sun now hung higher in the morning sky, and already the air was turning uncomfortably warm. This promised to be another sweltering day.
    Gardiner led Pell and Ethan around the side of the chapel to the old burying ground at the north end of the churchyard. As they approached the jumble of tombstones, Ethan spotted a man squatting in the shade over what appeared to be a disturbed gravesite.
    “That’s James Thomson,” Gardiner said before Ethan could ask. “He’s our sexton.”
    Marking their approach, Thomson straightened, and Ethan realized that he, like Gardiner, was uncommonly tall; he was also spear thin. Everything about him appeared stretched out, as if he had somehow survived years of torture on the rack. His limbs were spiderlike, his neck overlong and thrust forward at an odd angle. His steel-gray hair was tied back in a plait, and his face was weathered and lined. He wore a dark blue waistcoat over a white linen shirt that was stained dark with sweat under the arms.
    Despite his awkward appearance, he came to greet them with long, loping strides that were almost graceful.
    “Good day, Mister Pell,” he said, in a rough voice. “Doctor Gardiner.”
    “Good morning, James,” Pell said.
    “This our witch?” the sexton asked, turning to Ethan.
    Ethan glanced at Pell, who stared at the ground, his lips pursed. Ethan had the feeling the young minister was doing