“What
happened to the people with detached spirits?”
“Packed
into an independent golem, the last I saw.”
“No, not
Dill. The other ones. The ones we don't care about?” He saw the
look on Ada's face. “The people we don't know personally, I mean.”
“How
should I know?”
“They're
people. Shouldn't you be able to track them or something?”
“Not if
their spirits have been displaced, no. All I have is a date of death
for anyone in my area but if their spirit is still attached to their
body I won't know about them. Why would I?”
“Then how
do we find any left over? Isn't there a spell or something?”
“Why is it
important?”
“Because
the inspector thinks they're cryogenic failures. He thinks they're
people who have been missing since the eighties and are being
revived, only to began decaying.”
“From what? Freezer burn?” Jasfoup grinned. “What an utterly preposterous idea. How did he latch onto that one?”
“I don't
know, but don't you think it's important? Whatever the inspector
thinks, they're like Dill was. They're a danger to the community. You
always said, obvious supernatural behaviour harms us all.”
“I did,
didn't I? If people start believing in zombies they'll start
believing in vampires and werewolves and dog knows what else. We've
got to find all the black weed zombies and put an end to them.”
“But how
will we find them.”
A suit of
armour clanked through the kitchen door. It stood there for a moment
until it got their attention, then held up a hand.
“Stop?”
Harold frowned. “Stop what?”
“It's not
trying to tell us to stop.” Ada pressed a cup of tea into his
hands. “It's trying to tell us to guess five words. It's playing
charades.”
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