"It is like a poem built of flesh, Sir Albert."

Sir Albert smiled at me. "You were once a penniless rogue, and because I am, at heart, generous, I offer you to the opportunity to return to that existence.The alternative, such as I have set before you, is a grim one. What say you?"

"You must count your blessings to receive such a proposal," Hubert offered, helpful fellow that he was. "I've heard him be less generous with them what he didn't like.You want my opinion, dying and coming back made him a bit sentimental."

"We all mellow with age, Hubert," Sir Albert said.

"Very wisely observed, Sir Albert," said Hubert. "Time was, I'd have taken a s.h.i.t on that divan."

Lying upon the floor of my own house, my head aching, and threatened with violence beyond measure, I was not entirely certain what I could say. I was determined not to let Sir Albert have what he wished. I did not want to lose the book and its power to generate money and comfort. I also did not want to allow its power to fall into the hands of a rogue like Sir Albert, a bad man made worse by my machinations. I cared little if the Stuarts or the Hanoverians ruled the kingdom-the poor would remain poor and the rich would remain rich. I cared little if Whigs and Tories traded places at the table of power, for they were all one to me.What I cared about was not letting Sir Albert win.

"Now, tell me your secret," said Sir Albert.

"I cannot."The words tumbled out of me. "You see, there is a book-a magic book. It is how I learned my method, and only the owner of the book can affect the revival of the dead."

"A magic book, indeed. That sounds like a lot of hok.u.m to me," he answered.

"I did raise you from the dead," I said, trying to sound both reasonable and sincere. "That also sounds like hok.u.m."

Sir Albert allowed the point, but it did not cheer him. "Then give me the book!" he cried.

"I don't have it," I told him. "I would be a fool to keep such a thing upon my person." It was, in fact, in my waistcoat pocket at that very moment, but there was no reason to let him know such a thing.

"Then where is it?" said the increasingly impatient baronet.

"I don't know," I sputtered. My nose began to run, and tears ran down my cheeks. "Please don't cut off my hands and feet! I swear to you I don't know!" It was a good performance, if I may be my own critic. The fact that I was, in truth, quite frightened added to the verisimilitude, but I do not want the reader to think I had given way to panic and despair. I always have a plan. Or at least I often do, and this was one of those occasions when I nearly did. I was, in fact, working on a plan, and I was determined that it would be a good one.

Hubert took a step toward me and I raised my hand in protest. My thinking was rapid and erratic, but I believed I could come up with something if no one struck me again for a few moments or p.i.s.sed on any of my furnishings. Such things make it so very hard to concentrate. "Once your return from the beyond became so well circulated a story . . . I feared someone would find me and demand my secrets, but I was determined to protect the book.The only solution was to keep it where even I could not get it. I . . . I gave it to a friend, who was told to give it to a friend, who was told to hide it." I hoped this many layers of obscurity would dissuade them from seeking out these friends themselves. "I can get the book, but I need a day. Perhaps two."

Hubert stepped toward me again and I pressed myself against the wall, feigning more fear than I felt. Growing up with my father had given me a certain indifference to physical pain. I did not care for it, but I knew a few blows about the head would not do me much harm.

"All right! One day, then!" I said, thrusting out my hands defensively. "I will bring it to you by tomorrow evening."

"Very well, then. See that you do," said Sir Albert, sounding a little bit placated.

Hubert punctuated this command by kicking me in the side twice, but as I said, this did not trouble me overmuch.

Once my two guests departed, I pulled myself to my feet and called for my man, demanding a fresh gla.s.s of wine and some clean clothes.After a refreshing drink and a change of wardrobe, it was time for me to put my plan into effect. If Sir Albert wanted the book not to fall into the hands of his political enemies, then that was precisely where it would go.

I hired a coach and set out to Kensington Palace without further delay. We crossed at Westminster Bridge and made our way through the dark at St. George's Fields at night until I was at last outside the gates of the queen's residence. The great red brick palace stood on the other side of those iron rails and across a few hundred yards of garden illuminated by moon and torchlight.Within those walls I would find Anne herself, or someone very near to her, who would offer me protection and provide to Sir Albert the punishment he deserved.

It was a curious thing, as I gazed across the grounds to the palace.Therein was the queen of England, surrounded by some of the most powerful and influential people in the kingdom. All of them desperately wanted to see me, and I had the power to alter the nation, not simply today, but for all time. In my hands was the means to preserve a moribund dynasty, and while I had been uncertain if I should use that power, now Sir Albert had driven me to my destiny. Just as my desire for vengeance had led me to return him to life, now that same desire would lead me to thwart his plans. I rather liked the symmetry of it.

Content with my sense of importance in the unfolding of global events, I approached the cl.u.s.ter of perhaps a dozen palace guards, who stood eyeing me with bored hostility.

"Good evening," I said to the guards. "I should like an audience with Her Majesty, Queen Anne."

Only one of these men turned to look at me with slow and reptilian contempt. "Is that so?"

"I understand that you must not be in the habit of admitting anyone who wishes, but the queen has sent for me."

The guard held out his hand and twitched anxiously the fingers of his studded leather glove. "Let's see it."

"I have no formal invitation, for she did not know my name. I am the necromancer for whom she has called, and now I arrive to offer my services to Her Most Royal Majesty and the benighted house of Stuart." I placed my fingertips gently to my chest and bowed.

The guards burst out in guffaws. "We've had a score of you lot already today," one of them replied.

I stepped forward, rising to my full height, thrusting forth my chin, and locking eyes with the saucy fellow who had addressed me so. He would know by the steadiness of my voice, by the authority of my bearing, that I was not a man to be sent off like a peddler with a pie cart. "I care nothing for your charlatans and imposters. I say I am the necromancer."

He deigned to blink in my direction. "Be off, or you'll be a necromancer in chains."

I laughed the laugh of the aggrieved and tolerant, and I tried not to allow my authority to deflate. "Certainly I understand that you have been troubled with fools and madmen who claim they can do what I can, but I a.s.sure you I am the true necromancer, and the queen will wish to see me."

"And I said be off!" the guard snarled.

"Look, if I could but find a dead bird or rat, I can a.s.sure you-" I stopped talking because the guards were now drawing their swords and stepping forward. Apparently they had already taken their fill of men who claimed to do what I could, in fact, do. No amount of persuasion on my part was going to gain me entrance. I thought to ask how the true necromancer could ever hope to see the queen if they behaved thus, but I chose not to press my point, as the value of a Pyrrhic victory enjoyed from prison struck me as minimal. I therefore retreated to my hired coach and headed home, wondering how I could possibly gain the protection I desired before I was due to surrender the book to Sir Albert.

Once in my house, I called for more wine and retired to my parlor, from which the divan had been removed. I sat on a chair before the fire, only a few feet away from where Sir Albert's tough had knocked me against the wall, and there fell asleep.

Perhaps a few hours later, my serving man hurried into the room to inform me that the house, to his regret, was very much ablaze. A quick sniff of the air revealed the presence of smoke, and a peek down the hallway displayed a terrifying wall of flames. Having no choice but to concur with James's a.n.a.lysis, I fled, very much hoping that the rest of the staff was able to do the same. Anyone burned to death, I decided, I would do the kindness of reviving. It seemed to me a safer course than running about the house looking for kitchen maids huddled in corners.