"Who?"

"We don't know. Mr. Fitzroy intercepted a letter from someone in Paris we had been watching. It only bore the man's—or woman's—initials and was addressed to an abandoned house, however we think the letter reached him."

"It did," Fitzroy intoned. "I made sure of it."

"The letter mentioned that a particular girl he'd been seeking—"

"The necromancer?" I asked.

She nodded. "The necromancer he'd been searching so long for had been traced to the house of a London vicar."

I shoveled jelly into my mouth, but it tasted like ashes and was difficult to swallow. I forced it down with a gulp as I tried to digest the news too. The London vicar was my father. "There must be dozens of vicars in London."

"There are. We have not been able to pinpoint which one the letter referred to. We hope he hasn't, either."

He had. It must be the doctor I'd seen leaving Father's house. I was even more glad that I'd not revealed myself to him now. "What does he want with this necromancer girl?"

"To use her power to reanimate his…creations."

I paused, the full spoon at my mouth. "Creations?"

Her already pale face grew paler. She glanced at Fitzroy and he took over the explanation. "He takes pieces off different corpses and binds them together to make new, more superior ones. All they lack is a spirit that will bring them to life and do his bidding."

My stomach rolled. Bile and jelly rose to my throat. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"To build himself an elite force," Lady Harcourt said. "He takes the long, powerful legs of a fast runner, for example; the strong arms of a laborer or pugilist; the heart and lungs of a good swimmer. And the brain of an intelligent man, or one with knowledge he seeks to use to his advantage."

What kind of monster wanted to do such a thing? The very notion was sickening, but to actually cut up bodies and sew pieces of them together to form a new man… His surgery must be covered in blood and gore…his arms and body too. The very notion was unfathomable.

"Charlie?" Lady Harcourt rose and came round the table. She placed her cool hand on the back of my neck. "You've gone quite ashen."

"It's no wonder," Seth said quietly.

Gus murmured his agreement. "Makes my belly ache, too."

Fitzroy poured me more wine and handed me the glass. He watched as I drank. "Have you ever heard of such a man?"

"Why would I?"

"Street children hear all sorts of things. Perhaps the body of a homeless man has inexplicably disappeared, or someone saw a fellow acting mysteriously near the cemetery. You spend a lot of time at Highgate Cemetery."

So he'd learned that about me too. "I haven't seen or heard anything. If the man looks like a regular gentleman, he could be anyone."

It must have been the doctor I'd seen at Father's house. Only a man with medical knowledge could piece bodies back together. But I didn't know his name. I didn't know where he lived. I couldn't help Fitzroy and Lady Harcourt find him, even if I'd wanted to.