I headed back to the table, the sorcerer trailing behind me and muttering insults against me and my ancestors. And he wondered why I wasn’t willing to take a chance and release him. Some of those threats were creative and horrible enough that I was tempted to just shoot him and be done with all of it.
There was an idea. I gave him a considering look.
Naw, there was too much risk. I had no idea how this mark would react and no guarantee a bullet would actually kill him. With my luck, the tattoo would burn me alive, and he would survive to dance on my ashes.
“Caroline, Peter is going to help us look through the books.”
“Uh huh,” she said her gaze intent on her research. “Talking less would result in more work done.”
Right. I turned to the sorcerer—I just couldn’t bring myself to call him Peter—and gathered up several books, sliding them in front of him. “You take this stack. Here are the names we’re particularly interested in.”
He selected a book off the top and set it down with a thump, flicking it open with sharp gestures as he frowned at me.
“Don’t take your anger out on the books,” Caroline ordered without lifting her head.
His cheeks colored slightly, and he handled the pages with more care as he bent to work. I wanted to laugh, but knew I’d be the next one to receive a scolding if I did.
We worked in silence, the stacks of read books growing. It was beginning to feel like this had been a waste of time as I went through page after page with nothing useful gleaned. Perhaps the names had been a red herring. The draugr hadn’t exactly proven to be a helpful source of information. More like the opposite.
“I think I’ve found something,” Caroline announced, straightening and staring down at the book in excitement.
“Really?” I said, lifting my head from where it’d been resting on the pages. Despite not needing sleep, all that reading had lulled me into a light doze. I scrubbed at the creases on my face.
“Yes. It was one of the combined names. Here, take a look.”
I grabbed the book she slid towards me and lifted it to my face, the sorcerer rushing around to read over my shoulder.
“It’s a photo of one Jackson Miller and his wife, Eva Miller. He was a doctor on the Union side until he was discovered giving Confederate soldiers shelter after a battle. They sent him to Camp Chase,” Caroline said.
The photo was of a man and woman in their Sunday best, staring out of the book with serious expressions. He looked austere with his top hat and cravat. She had a slight twinkle in her eye that softened the severity of her hairstyle and made it seem like she was having a laugh with him.
“I can’t find any records of him after this. I don’t know if he died there or was released back to his wife.”
“He died there,” I said softly.
Even with the skin whole and unblemished and the beard and side burns, I could tell it was the draugr I’d caught eating a human earlier tonight. His story hadn’t had a happy ending. He’d probably died of malnutrition or one of the many diseases that swept through those camps in that period. How did he go from being a healer to a monster feasting on flesh?
“The prison camps were pretty brutal. Chase wasn’t as bad as Andersonville, but it wouldn’t have been pleasant. As a doctor he may have known about the conditions of the camps and tried to protect the enemy soldiers and was instead discovered and seen as a traitor,” Caroline theorized.
“More likely he was playing both sides of the war and got caught,” Peter said, dryly.
I looked closely at the photograph, studying the locket around Eva’s throat. It seemed familiar. I’d seen it somewhere recently. It was silver and in the shape of a circle with fine geometric details rimming it. A branch with flowers had precious stones where the buds should be decorating the middle of it. The locket was pretty and was the type of thing I could picture a wife giving her husband to remember her by before he marched off to war.
A silver chain was visible going from Jackson’s waist to a pocket in his vest. I’d bet anything that was the watch he’d been searching for.
“Look here and here,” I said, pointing the two items out to the sorcerer. “Think those could be what he’s after?”
The sorcerer’s forehead crinkled as he stared down at the items in question. “It’s possible.”
“The camp guards would have taken anything of value from the prisoners. Anything he had would be long gone by now,” Caroline said.
He’d managed to smuggle them past the guards. I was sure of it. There was no question in my mind that the locket and pocket watch shown here were what the draugr searched for.
“Do you think you could devise a…” My eyes shot to Caroline and I changed what I was going to say. “Program that would be able to track these things down?”
“I told you that’s impossible.” Caroline frowned. “They could be anywhere at this point.”
“I could do it if this was off,” the sorcerer murmured to me, raising one hand.
