me?” the Cockney ghost asked cheerfully.
“What do you mean, come here?” Derek asked, frowning at him. “I’m standing right beside you.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Shh! Never mind,” Jake muttered.
Derek eyed Jake suspiciously, not at all used to being shushed, then the warrior began glancing around to make sure no more guards were coming.
Meanwhile, the ghost-thief floated over with a grin on his translucent face. “Well, you got yourself into quite the sour pickle now, ain’t you, mate?”
“Can you help us?”
“Wot, me?”
“Do something to distract the guards? We’ll never get out with them standing in the way.”
The ghost looked at the guards, then back at him. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, throw something. Scare them away with some moaning. You’re a ghost. You’ve got to be able to do something mysterious. Distract them so we can sneak out.”
“You think it’s that easy? They can’t see me like you can. Besides, you already saw I can’t grab nothin’. On the other hand—” A thoughtful expression came over his smoky, bluish face. “Maybe one thing I could try… Wait ‘ere, I’ll give it a go.”
“Thank you,” Jake whispered.
“Jacob, who are you talking to?” Derek demanded in a low tone.
“A ghost,” he admitted ruefully. “I don’t know his name.”
“It’s Oliver,” the ghost-thief informed him, but Derek still stared skeptically at Jake. “Who’s your grumpy friend?” Oliver asked, giving Derek an insolent once-over.
Few living men would have dared peruse the imposing warrior so disrespectfully, but then again, even Derek Stone couldn’t do much to a wiry little thief who was already dead.
“Don’t mind him,” Jake told Oliver.
“Is he saying something about me?” Derek demanded.
Jake turned to him in surprise. “You believe me? That I can see ghosts?”
“Of course. Wait…do you hear that?”
“Ohhh, I do!” breathed Oliver, pressing a hand to his heart as he hovered a bit higher in the air.
Jake shook his head. “I don’t hear anything. What is it?”
“Beautiful…singing,” Derek murmured. “Like an angel…” His words trailed off at the exact moment that a hideous sound assaulted Jake’s ears.
It stabbed like a spike through his already pounding head. He clapped his hands over his ears in pain, but that only muffled it. Beautiful?
The hideous screeching was a deafening cross between a vicious, midnight catfight, an avalanche of gravel, and monster claws scratching down a thousand chalkboards.
Holding his ears, Jake looked at Derek in terror, wondering what on earth this horrid sound might mean. But when he saw the look on the warrior’s face, he was all the more bewildered. You would have thought the man was listening to a symphony, not that horrendous racket.
Derek’s usual scowl had turned to a dreamy smile; he was motionless, but stood staring in the direction that the sound was coming from. His eyes glistened, glazed over with rapture, as if he had eaten a whole Roly-Poly Pudding by himself.
In confusion, Jake turned to Oliver, but the ghost-thief was equally captivated, floating like a happy bubble in midair, as if he could not tear his attention away from the sound.
Jake’s fear gave way to intrigue before this mystery.
Was this hideous song also affecting the guards? He stole a cautious glance around the corner and saw that the uniformed men were, indeed, in the same charmed condition as the warrior and the ghost.
Even the warden of Newgate himself had frozen in the middle of writing some report. He sat enthralled. His hand remained in midair; the drop of ink on his pen dripped onto his sheet of paper. He didn’t even notice.
Clearly, the grown men, both the living and the dead, had become enchanted, hearing something quite different from what Jake perceived.
Jake did not know if he had his youth or his own weird powers to thank for that, but whatever this
“What do you mean, come here?” Derek asked, frowning at him. “I’m standing right beside you.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Shh! Never mind,” Jake muttered.
Derek eyed Jake suspiciously, not at all used to being shushed, then the warrior began glancing around to make sure no more guards were coming.
Meanwhile, the ghost-thief floated over with a grin on his translucent face. “Well, you got yourself into quite the sour pickle now, ain’t you, mate?”
“Can you help us?”
“Wot, me?”
“Do something to distract the guards? We’ll never get out with them standing in the way.”
The ghost looked at the guards, then back at him. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, throw something. Scare them away with some moaning. You’re a ghost. You’ve got to be able to do something mysterious. Distract them so we can sneak out.”
“You think it’s that easy? They can’t see me like you can. Besides, you already saw I can’t grab nothin’. On the other hand—” A thoughtful expression came over his smoky, bluish face. “Maybe one thing I could try… Wait ‘ere, I’ll give it a go.”
“Thank you,” Jake whispered.
“Jacob, who are you talking to?” Derek demanded in a low tone.
“A ghost,” he admitted ruefully. “I don’t know his name.”
“It’s Oliver,” the ghost-thief informed him, but Derek still stared skeptically at Jake. “Who’s your grumpy friend?” Oliver asked, giving Derek an insolent once-over.
Few living men would have dared peruse the imposing warrior so disrespectfully, but then again, even Derek Stone couldn’t do much to a wiry little thief who was already dead.
“Don’t mind him,” Jake told Oliver.
“Is he saying something about me?” Derek demanded.
Jake turned to him in surprise. “You believe me? That I can see ghosts?”
“Of course. Wait…do you hear that?”
“Ohhh, I do!” breathed Oliver, pressing a hand to his heart as he hovered a bit higher in the air.
Jake shook his head. “I don’t hear anything. What is it?”
“Beautiful…singing,” Derek murmured. “Like an angel…” His words trailed off at the exact moment that a hideous sound assaulted Jake’s ears.
It stabbed like a spike through his already pounding head. He clapped his hands over his ears in pain, but that only muffled it. Beautiful?
The hideous screeching was a deafening cross between a vicious, midnight catfight, an avalanche of gravel, and monster claws scratching down a thousand chalkboards.
Holding his ears, Jake looked at Derek in terror, wondering what on earth this horrid sound might mean. But when he saw the look on the warrior’s face, he was all the more bewildered. You would have thought the man was listening to a symphony, not that horrendous racket.
Derek’s usual scowl had turned to a dreamy smile; he was motionless, but stood staring in the direction that the sound was coming from. His eyes glistened, glazed over with rapture, as if he had eaten a whole Roly-Poly Pudding by himself.
In confusion, Jake turned to Oliver, but the ghost-thief was equally captivated, floating like a happy bubble in midair, as if he could not tear his attention away from the sound.
Jake’s fear gave way to intrigue before this mystery.
Was this hideous song also affecting the guards? He stole a cautious glance around the corner and saw that the uniformed men were, indeed, in the same charmed condition as the warrior and the ghost.
Even the warden of Newgate himself had frozen in the middle of writing some report. He sat enthralled. His hand remained in midair; the drop of ink on his pen dripped onto his sheet of paper. He didn’t even notice.
Clearly, the grown men, both the living and the dead, had become enchanted, hearing something quite different from what Jake perceived.
Jake did not know if he had his youth or his own weird powers to thank for that, but whatever this
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