#but it also means lockwood's empty (waiting) grave :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lewkwoodnco · 4 months

Text

my tears ricochet but in the context of locklyle after lucy leaves in thb:

"even on my worst day did I deserve babe all the hell you gave me" -> lockwood being so emotionally stunted didnt know how to work thru his feelings in any way other than distancing himself for lucy through no fault of hers (or his technically)

"I swear I loved you till my dying day" -> even throughout their fight/all the way till she left (and even beyond that) lucy loved lockwood so much despite how cold he was to her and how hurt she felt GIVE MY GIRL A BREAK

"you know I didn't want to have to haunt you" -> lucy and lockwood being irrevocably tied to each other

"I didn't have it in myself to go with grace" -> all the fights with holly where lucy was acting arguably petty/immature but only because she was losing her favourite person to someone else

"and you're the hero flying around, saving face" -> lockwood always wanting to preserve his/the company's reputation, wanting to be the best/the 'hero,' acting distant from lucy cuz he wouldn't confront/accept the reality of their relationship (+ strain from him wishing she wouldnt be so reckless which like LOL pot kettle black etc)

"and if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake?" -> pre aickmere's incident, where lucy was getting more and more desperate but he was still so cold towards her

"cursing my name, wishing I stayed" -> sums up lockwood's complicated/conflicting feelings about lucy SO well, he loves her but also hates her for putting herself in danger and is so scared of being that vulnerable with her UGHH

"cause when I'd fight you used to tell me I was brave" -> this is like all those times when lucy went along w lockwood even when he was being reckless cuz HELL if she was going to let him be reckless alone, and they kind of understood each other on that level the way no one else in the series rlly does like its this sacred mutual recognition thats so special to them, but the "you USED to tell me" indicating how their relationship has disintegrated and how that special bond/ANY kind of special bond btw them is rapidly dissolving. also abt how lucy who has been so tough and strong all alone for so long in her life rlly valued lockwood's support/started to need him (was quite bad off without him in her apartment). ofc she's brave and a part of her knows it, but that warmth of having someone stand by your side to catch u if u fall?? irreplacable

"I can go anywhere I want just not home" -> self-explanatory

"you can aim for my heart go for blood but you would still miss me in your bones" -> references how mean he was towards her but underlying all that was his love and need for her still </3 also, connotation of bones = skeleton = death = the empty grave waiting for him??

"and I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky"/"and when you cant sleep at night you hear my stolen lullabies" -> lockwood esp is so haunted by lucy after she leaves, 'screaming' referencing lucy's predisposition to get mad rather than sad, lockwood's insomnia like it all just lines up so WELL

"and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves" -> battleships symbolising all the visitors they fought together + maybe even more personal things like helping lockwood process the death of his family, lucy's trauma etc (their shared battles), all of that being left to be eroded by time as if it never existed, as if the thousand tiny moments that made up their relationship never happened

"you turned into your worst fears" -> come off it you know I'd die for you = his number one fear is LOSING LUCY which he does when she leaves. not exactlyyy the same cyz she's still alive but without him there to '''''protect''''' her (he is so that kind of bf) its one step towards this nightmare of his materialising

"tossing out blame, drunk on this pain" -> blaming himself (which is only partially warranted), acting so out of character, becoming even more reckless as he writhes with the pain of losing lucy, becoming more detached from the value of his life etc, almost manic in the haze of his agony

In conclusion, look at how lucy's tears ricochet. thank you for coming to my ted talk

also totally not thinking abt an au where lucy dies after leaving but before she returns because she never stopped loving him even when they were fighting

#the hollow boy spoilers #this lens makes me see the song as sooo devastating rather than angry #like there is an anger to it but its underlined with a grief like i LOVED U man. and now im not there anymore.#no one look at me #i am unwell #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #locklyle #lockwood and co netflix

27 notes · View notes

teaandtoastandthyme · 1 year

Text

in which I humbly propose an ending for the show!Lockwood and Co

starting directly after the last scene in the final chapter of The Empty Grave (and presuming that the scene in the garden before the siege of Portland Row has also taken place)

Lucy, wearing the sapphire, comes down the stairs to the hall where Lockwood is waiting by the open door.

Lucy: *beaming*

Lockwood: *beaming right back*

She joins him in the doorway and raises her eyebrows with a smile.

Lucy: "Undying devotion, hmm?"

Lockwood, softly: "It couldn’t mean anything else."

He reaches out to cup her chin and runs his thumb along her lips before leaning down. A kiss—slow and hesitant. And then another one, anything but. Lucy grips his arms.

George comes up from the kitchen and grins: "It’s about bloody time."

As they step back, Lockwood looks sheepish, but Lucy just laughs.

Holly and Kipps peek out from the library.

Holly: *holds out her hand*

Kipps: *grudgingly passes her a 20 pound note*

George, still smiling: "I’ll have the kettle on when you come back from your stroll."

Lockwood and Lucy stand framed in the doorway, facing the street, holding hands. As the credit music begins, they each glance at the other and smile.

#lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #locklyle #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george cubbins #george karim #quill kipps #holly munro #lockwood and co spoilers #if we never get season 2 I guess this will just be my own personal canon

55 notes · View notes

labyrinthinth-lighthouses · 1 year

Text

The Lockwood and Co series is coming out in just a few weeks now and I cannot wait. But the one thing that is bothering me is if the next books (Hollow Boy and the ones after) are made (hopefully) are they gonna make Holly gay?! Because if they don’t I will have some words!

Cause technically in cannon she is meant to be gay which was confirmed in an interview with Johnathon Stroud.

youtube

[Timestamp 7:50]

And just imagine that scene in The Empty Grave between Holly and Lucy where their waiting for some people to show up and try to kill them, and they’re just chatting and Lucy is trying to apologize for her behavior towards Holly at the beginning (character growth we love to see it) and Hollys like it’s fine I know you were just jealous and shit cause like she’s everything Lucy’s not and she was intimidated or smth and thought that Lockwood would like her (Holly) instead.

“‘Funnily enough, Lockwood isn’t actually my type….I know how you feel about him. But if anything I had my eye on someone else.’ ‘Good God you don’t mean George?’ Holly laughed again; her eyes sparked as she glanced at me sidelong”(Stroud 283-284).

So like imagine this scene where instead of them being immediately interrupted after this, Lucy asks Holly who, and she’s like ‘I actually used to like you’ or ‘I liked you’ (or something idk) and then Lucy, is surprised but also kind of flattered, and some dialogue or something happens but it’s cut off and then they interrupt the scene . Idk I think that’d be really cute.

[Bonus, a personal head-cannon of mine is if that if scene was resolved in that way Lucy becomes Hollys wing man and tries to find her a date or something (or like points out cute to Holly). Cause I think that sounds really cute!]

Idk anyway Holly is a lesbian and this is one of the hills on which I choose to die

#That and that Lockwood is ace #lockwood and co #Holly is a lesbian #the empty grave #Youtube

30 notes · View notes

beachblue37 · 1 year

Text

Ok so I see a lot of people say that Lucy was unfair to Holly and that she treated her badly in The Hollow Boy which is fair she did. But Holly was kinda of horrible. I consider myself to be a girls girl but I wouldn’t get along with Holly if I met her. (I wouldn’t get along with any of these characters as well.) She’s really condescending towards Lucy. I feel like why we think she’s so great is because in the later books she is genuinely nice. It’s a similar situation to Lockwood he was so mean and dismissive of Lucy in The Hollow Boy but in The Creeping Shadow and The Empty Grave he’s so sweet. Same with Holly. I think both of them were like “Wait am I the problem?” when Lucy left and they felt bad about it.

Also Lucy is 15 during the events of The Hollow Boy. Teenagers aren’t known for their wonderful communication skills. Holly is around 19. She’s almost an adult. Why is she being so condescending to a 15 year old girl?

#lockwood and co spoilers #the hollow boy spoilers #the creeping shadow spoilers #the empty grave spoilers

8 notes · View notes

daphnejane · 1 year

Note

Hi DJ! Some questions for you (I had trouble narrowing it down I want to know *all* the things)

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited! (I mean, I think you know which one)

Hello there! Thanks so much for playing! I love these things. Also, I just answered some different questions here. 😊

from the fic writer asks

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Oooooh, tough one. I think a tie between plot and characters. A plot can be great, but if the characters suck I'm going to nope out, and vice versa. Oh wait, that's for reading and this is meant to be from the writer POV isn't it? 😅🤦‍♀️ Some of those things can have different levels of importance depending on the piece, but I would say the technical stuff is always super important. My grammar isn't perfect, but I do make an effort. And if I find mistakes after posting, I will correct them.

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

With fanfiction, it's usually scratching an itch. That's how I ended up writing Locklyle. 😅 I really wanted more of their story—what does their future look like—that canon doesn't give me. So I'm making one up haha. It's also a creative outlet and a great way to hone my writing skills. I have started probably 5 original projects but haven't been disciplined enough to finish any of them. Maybe one day!

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited! (I mean, I think you know which one)

Hahahaha yes, I think I can guess which one you want to know more about! I did share a snippet of it here in case you missed it. I got the idea for this Locklyle fic about halfway through The Empty Grave and started writing. Then the ending made me question the whole timeline of my fic, but I decided it's fine because this is ✨fanfiction!✨ Basically it's about them getting older and losing their talents, how that changes their investigations, and what it means for their future. It fits several of the prompts for Locklyle week (stumbled into this fandom just in time!) so I am busting my ass to get it done by Sunday! It's a little bit firsts, a little bit denial, a little bit love languages, and some domesticity thrown in too. Keep reading below the cut for a snippet! I will warn you that it's not been edited yet.

Thanks again for the ask! 🥰🥰

We tried to go back to sleeping apart—honest, we did—but slowly, we came to an unspoken arrangement. I'd wake up from another dream of the Other Side and show up at his bedroom door, clutching my pillow tight against my belly, awkwardly waiting for him to say something. He never did, just pulled the covers back and made room for me. At some point in the intervening months, it became a nightly habit for me to sleep in Lockwood’s room. And I don’t mean in the armchair, though he certainly tried. But now it seemed natural to slip into bed next to him, the warmth of our bodies heating the blankets, shutting out the cold of haunted places that threatened to sink into our bones. My pillow stayed in place next to his.

Everything was above board. We might as well have kept a rapier between us. Not that I wished otherwise. I only mean to say there wasn’t any funny business, and that’s that. Sure, sometimes our hands found each other in the dark, but even school children hold hands. I might have woken once or twice with my palm clasped in Lockwood’s, held to his chest as we lay flat on our backs. People can't control what they do in their sleep. It didn't mean anything. And there was the time I woke up from a dream of Dark London with his long limbs wrapped around me. You know when you wake up suddenly with the feeling you’re falling from a great height?

“It’s all right, Luce,” his low voice said in my ear. “I’ve got you. You were shivering.”

I settled back into his warmth and drifted off.

Shaking off the memory, I spit into the sink and rinsed out my mouth. My point is, we never talked about it. Never acknowledged aloud that something had changed between us. We simply got in bed, said our good nights, and went to sleep. But now I had broken that silence, and he… He seemed pleased at the thought of going to bed together. When he said it like that, come to bed with me, it was more than just our usual banter.

Finished with my bedtime routine, I descended the stairs to Lockwood’s room. Suddenly self-conscious in my tatty t-shirt and worn shorts, I hesitated on the threshold.

Lockwood looked up from his glossy society magazine and flashed his signature megawatt smile. “That’s rule number one broken, Luce.”

“This isn’t a haunted house,” I grumbled. “Not anymore, anyway.”

He had new bedsheets. Blue. I knew they were for me. The covers were folded back on my side of the bed, just waiting for me to slip in.

“Thought you might’ve changed your mind.”

I flapped my arms and stepped into the room. “Not a chance.” Avoiding his eye, I sat on the edge of the bed and swept my legs up, half turned away from him as I shoved them under the coverlet. I made a show of fluffing my pillow.

“You alright, Luce?”

“Of course,” I said brightly. I heard the rustle of paper—Lockwood setting the magazine aside—and then the lamp clicked off. “You can keep reading if you like. The light doesn’t bother me.”

The mattress shifted beneath me. I was almost rolled toward him. “It’s okay. I can sleep now that you’re here. Good night, Lucy.”

“Good night, Lockwood.”

We lay in the dark without speaking for some time before either of us found our rest.

#ask meme #fanfiction #writer #fanfiction writer #locklyle

1 note · View note

sassycubbins · 5 years

Text

The Empty Grave continued | Lockyle

Summary: The end of The Empty Grave continues, Lucy and Lockwood go on the walk together.

Warnings: FLUFF, extreme fluff & my terrible writing :’)

Words: 1.5k

A/N: So we’re kinda left on a loose end with Lockyle at the end of TEG, so I decided to write a finish. Disclaimer: this is just how I imagine the walk being like. Hope you enjoy!!

Fanfic.net version

The Empty Grave end continued....

“Slowly, carefully, I picked up the necklace and hung it around my neck. Then I put on my jacket and ran for the stairs”

A smile was growing on my face as I quickly made my way down the stairs. My mind was so carried away that I almost ran into George on a ladder trying to reach a spot on the roof he was painting. In attempted to swerve away I ended up spinning and landing on Lockwood, who graciously caught me. I looked up at him, my cheeks going warm.

“I assume you’re coming along with me then?” Lockwood said with a bright smile plastered on his face.

I made a face at him as I untangled myself, which only left him laughing at me. I glanced behind to see George wiggling his eyebrows at us. I shook my head and smiled at Lockwood, “Yes, I am”.

We stood there for a moment staring at each other, Lockwood opened his mouth to say something, but was beat by George, “We’ll are you two dorks just going to stand there like you’re stoned or are you-”, “Shut up George”, Lockwood and I said in sync.

Lockwood then turned to open the door, as I stepped out I was immediately hit by a cool breeze and the scent of our garden and the neighbor's cooking.

“You’re right, it is a lovely evening”, I said while taking a clam breath. “A nice contrast to the last couple of days” Lockwood stated as we made our way through the gate.

For a moment we walked in a comfortable silence. I looked around the familiar street; two children playing in the street with a ball, a man walking his dog, the smell of a roast pouring from and open window. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if The Problem went away. It would mean no more ghosts, and Lockwood & Co. wouldn’t have any business left. What would we do? Would we go to school? Start a new business?

My thoughts were interrupted by Lockwood, “You’re thinking about what we’ll do after the Problem is fixed?” He inquired. I looked up at him puzzled as to how he knew what I was thinking about. He must’ve noticed my expression because he quickly added, “You have that look, the one you make when you’re troubled with your thoughts...I was thinking the same thing”. I nodded and turned away from him.

“It’s just, this is the only life we’ve ever known” I said, “The only other thing I’m good at is drawing and getting pissed off by George.

“I know..I’ve thought about it a lot actually. What I would do after It’s all resolved”, Lockwood responded.

“What would you do?” I inquired.

“I’ve always thought I could pick up wear my parents left off; travel the world, learn about different cultures”. I nodded in response.

“Of course I wouldn’t go alone, I could bring you”, I looked up to him, “-and George too of course..and Holly too if she were open to it”. I could see his cheeks growing red, which made me smile, “I would love to see the world actually, London gets a little boring don’t you think?”. Lockwood smiled at me. I noticed his dark brown eyes visibly lighten. It’s odd how his eyes could be so dark and mysterious, yet so bright and youthful.

His eyes moved from mine to my neck. I looked down and saw what he was staring at. The necklace.

I turned red, “I-”, “It looks lovely on you Luce”, Lockwood grinned at me. “I-thank you, it’s wonderful, it must've looked beautiful on your mother”.

He smiled, but I noticed his eyes went distant at the mention of his mother. “Sorry, I shouldn’t of-” I got cut off, “No, it’s alright”.

We were silent for a moment as we turned the corner and quickly jogged across the street and walked into The Manchester Square.

“You know, I’ve actually got a whole collection of my mother and sister’s jewelry, you can have any of it.” Lockwood grinned. I laughed, “you know, you can’t keep giving me your family’s jewelry”.

He raised an eyebrow, “Actually I can give you anything I’d like, it would be up to you to take it”. He said that as if he weren’t just talking about the jewelry. I smiled, and we went back into a comfortable silence.

Lockwood led me to to an empty bench and we took a seat. I could feel the atmosphere shift from a lighthearted mood into something more serious has Lockwood and I sat in silence.

“Luce”. I looked over to meet his gaze. He was calm as ever, the wind gently blowing his hair to cover his forehead. I could see in his eyes that something was burdening him.

“Yes” I replied, watching his expression carefully.

“I’m sorry”.

I was taken by surprise, he went on before I could question him, “I know we talked about this before-me being restless and unsafe-but I never apologized. I’m sorry for making you worry, for making you so upset that you had to leave, I’m sorry for not realizing how much it hurt you, I-”, “Stop”.

I looked at him, then took his hand. He looked down, but I titled his chin up. I don’t know what was giving me the courage to act this bold, and although I was questioning my instinct I continued on. “It’s alright. You’ll always be risky, it’s in your nature. Although I don’t want you throwing yourself at death because I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I smiled, “You don’t need to apologize, I also shouldn’t of acted so carelessly. But we’ve both gotten better, so it’s alright”.

Lockwood returned my smile, then glanced down at our still intertwined hands.

I went red and pulled my hand away, but Lockwood held on. I looked up at him.

He had a way of making my heart beat double, making me forget how to breath. And that was happening right now, I felt as if my heart was caught in my throat, my entire body was heating up.

It was odd how we had mindlessly moved closer to each other as well, I could feel the heat coming off of his body.

There was a tension between us...one that I had felt for years, and it was slowly releasing as we moved closer.

I glanced towards his lips, and then back up to meet a warm...vulnerable gaze.

Then the tension broke. Our lips met. We both froze in shock at what we were doing. I couldn't help but think of how hard George would be laughing at us now. But George wasn’t here. It was only us. Alone in a garden on a lovely evening.

I gently eased into the kiss, and he returned. A warmth was spilling all throughout my body as his soft warm lips moved against mine.

I let go of his hand and cupped the back of his neck, and he cupped my cheek. The kiss deepend and he pulled me closer.

I don’t know how long it lasted, but we finally broke away, slowly. Both of us were breathing hard as our foreheads rested against each other. I opened my eyes to see his beautiful brown eyes light with passion.

I moved back tucking my hair behind my ears, smiling. Both of us sat for a moment smiling, trying to comprehend what we had just done.

The long silence was broken by Lockwood, he took a deep breath and looked at me straight. “I love you Luce”.

I would’ve expected myself to freeze in shock, but that wasn’t what happened next-it was as if cupid or something was controlling me, “I-” I swallowed,

“I love you too”.

He then moved forward and embraced me in a hug, I help tightly to him, I felt whole, my heart beating in my chest, spreading a warmth inside me.

As we sat holding each other I closed my eyes. I love you Luce. Four words I had waited almost a year to hear. I had never admitted it to myself, but there had been so many moments when I thought he would say it. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t surprised.

After who knows how long we stood up together, both smiling like mindless children.

Our hands stayed intertwined as we made our way back to Portland Row.

On the way back we had both fully opened up to each other about our feelings. How since our first meeting we had known there was something special about each other. It was all a bit cheesy to me, like something out of a fairy-tale.

As we made it to the gate we decided that we would go out together weekly, maybe even more. Neither of us had had any romantic experiences, so it was all new for us, but it was something we realized we needed.

It was a fresh start to a new age. A time were maybe ghosts wouldn’t be a problem any more, and the only thing we needed was each other.

#lockwood and co #lockyle #lucewood #lockwood and co fanfic #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #the empty grave #lucewood fanfic #lockyle fanfic #l&co #lockyle au #lucewood au #george cubbins #holly munro #quill kipps

63 notes · View notes

askullinajar · 7 years

Text

The Living Ghost (part 1/4)

(CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR TEG)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Fic info: takes place right after The Empty Grave. Rating: General. Pairings: Lockwood/Lucy and Holly/her ‘flatmate’. Ao3 link: here

Further fics in this series: The Shattered Frame, A Merry Little Christmas, A Little Help From Your Friends.

“I leave for one minute and you let me get nicked again.”

“You were gone for a week!”

“Yeah, whatever. Some friend you are.”

Lucy comes home to find the skull missing. On their quest to get him back, Lockwood & Co. discover that the secret to eternal youth might not have been the only thing the Orpheus Society were striving towards.

Part 1 – The Theft

“We should do that again sometime,” said Lockwood as we stepped, side by side, through the front door into the hallway of 35 Portland Row. “Maybe get a bite to eat or something.” He smiled at me, and that dazzling, mega-watt grin filled me with a familiar warmth. “Just the two of us.”

I smiled back at him, feeling my cheeks flush and my heart fluttering and the weight of the sapphire necklace pressed warmly against my chest. “Yeah,” I said. “I’d like that.”

We parted ways on the upstairs landing as he went to help George with painting and I went to drop off my coat in my little attic bedroom. I paused for a moment, my hand on the doorknob, trying to quench the little bubble of excitement in my chest; he probably wouldn’t be there, after all. It was still light out.

Still, as I pushed open the door, my eyes automatically darted towards the window, where I hoped to see the grey ghost of a youth, perhaps slouching against the wall. Instead, what I saw made my blood run cold.

The skull was gone.

I swallowed down the thick panic rapidly rising in my throat. I stood frozen to the spot, my eyes scanning the rest of my room. No, the skull’s disappearance was the only change.

“GEORGE!” I called.

“WHAT?” came the reply.

I stepped out of the doorway to lean over the banister. “Did you… did you take the skull?”

George scratched at his head with the end of his paintbrush, inspecting his handy work and splatting paint on his bruised face in the process. “Why would I take the skull?”

“I don’t know! To experiment on him?!” My voice was rising in volume now, sounding frantic, though for some reason I couldn’t help it.

“And risk the possibility of him coming back and killing me?” said George. “No thank you!”

“But, then…” I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think over the sound of my heart thumping against my chest. He couldn’t be gone. Not again. “Did anyone come in?”

“I don’t know, I went out.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“We ran out of paint… and biscuits.”

I was already charging down the stairs from my attic bedroom. “HOLLY!” I yelled. “QUILL!”

“They’re not in,” said George.

I halted halfway to the staircase that lead to the hallway downstairs and turned to him. “What do you mean they’re not in?!”

George seemed a little apprehensive towards me now, but then I guess he’s seen me get upset many times, so he was right to be. “Calm down, Lucy. They just had to get more building supplies, that’s all.”

Lockwood came out of his room then, all kitted out in an old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms for painting in. He took in my frantic state and frowned in concern. “Everything alright, Luce?”

I ignored him, still interrogating George. “How long have they been out? How long has the house been empty?”

“I… I don’t know,” George stammered. I guess he was expecting me to throw or punch something any second, which I was tempted to do. “No more than twenty minutes.”

I turned and hurtled my way down the stairs, briefly registering the sounds of Lockwood and George chasing after me and of Lockwood imploring me to tell him what was wrong. I didn’t slow when I got to the landing. I tore my way down the corridor and threw open the kitchen door. And stopped.

Lockwood and George nearly rammed into me. “Lucy! What’re you…?” George started, but he stopped halfway through his sentence to stare across the kitchen, where our brand-new backdoor was hanging ajar.

Lockwood pushed past me and walked over to it, running his fingers over the gouges in the wood where a crow-bar had been used to force the door open.

“Great. Now we have to get another door,” said George. “Do these criminals not even think about how much money they’re costing us?!”

“Now’s not the time, George,” said Lockwood. He turned to me, expression serious. “Lucy, what’s going on?”

“I…” I started. I felt sick. How many times had I let the skull slip out of my grip? In my little flat, in the old underground, during the attack on Portland Row, Fittes House… And now, yet again, I’d let my defences down and the skull had been taken. Somehow, despite when we had first begun talking and I’d wanted to bury that stupid jar in the yard or chuck it in a furnace, we had become something like friends and, even if he didn’t come back, the thought of not having the skull by my side filled me with dread. He had saved both mine and Lockwood’s lives at Fittes house, at the risk of destroying his own source, and I couldn’t even keep track of one bloody skull! Some friend I was.

“The skull’s gone,” I forced out at last and, as I said it, a fire filled my chest and I felt adrenaline course through my limbs. I would get him back. For good this time.

Lockwood looked at me, taking in my set jaw and blazing eyes. I waited for him to tell me to stop being so ridiculous. To tell me that it was just a charred skull whose ghost might never even come back and that my attachment to it was absurd. But, instead, he nodded. “He saved our lives. We’ll get him back, Luce. Whatever it takes.”

I gazed at him, surprised at how willing he was to help me get the skull back, and he smiled back at me, with that light dancing in his eyes that thrilled for the taste of adventure.

Then George coughed and we looked away.

“Right, well,” said Lockwood, clearing his throat. “We’ll just wait for Holly and Quill to get back, then we’ll start making a plan of action!”

“Wait a minute,” George said. “First we’ve got to figure out who stole the skull in the first place. And why?” He sat down at the table and picked up a pen, ready to scribble down ideas on the thinking cloth.

“Whoever it was had to know about the skull,” I said. “And they knew where it was; nothing else has been moved.”

“It’s easy enough to see the skull in your window from outside,” said Lockwood. “But who would know the significance of it?”

“I think there are two pretty obvious suspects here,” said George. “Our old friends Adelaide and Leopold Winkman.”

“We did kind of kill Mr Winkman,” I recalled.

“Yep. And they know about your attachment to the skull,” said George. “The thing is, the Winkman’s are only usually interested in what they can sell, and the skull’s pretty much worthless now. No offense, Lucy.”

I chose to ignore that comment. “It might not be so useless. This morning I thought I saw it glowing.”

“Might just have been a trick of the light,” Lockwood reasoned.

“Either way,” I said. “No one knows it’s lost its psychic charge apart from us.”

“I think it’s rather likely that someone who knew what the skull’s value used to be commissioned the Winkman’s to steal it for them,” said George, scribbling on the cloth in his illegible handwriting. “The fact that it would hurt you personally would be an added bonus for them.”

Just then, we heard the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking in the front door. We turned to see Holly and Kipps entering the hallway.

“You’ve been gone a while,” George remarked.

“Well, Quill is still a little slow on his feet,” Holly replied, entering the kitchen so she could set her shopping bag down on the counter.

“You could have stayed here, Quill,” said Lockwood.

“I’ve had more than enough of sitting around,” said Kipps, easing himself stiffly into the chair next to George. “Needed some fresh air.” He looked around at us all and frowned. “What are you all doing, then? Conspiring to destroy another agency?”

Holly was eyeing me concernedly. “Are you alright, Lucy? You look a bit frazzled.”

“Actually, no, Hol,” I replied. “The skull’s been stolen.”

Holly gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Lucy, I’m so sorry!”

“How terrible,” said Kipps.

“Yeah, you sound distraught,” I said, sarcastically.

“Well, I can’t say I’ll miss that disgusting thing watching me eat breakfast,” said Kipps, and Holly cast her eyes to the floor in a manner that suggested she agreed with him. “But I am sorry it’s gone, Luce. I know it’s your best friend and everything.”

“He is not my best friend,” I said, glaring at him.

“No one’s judging, Lucy,” said George, grinning at me. “If your best friend is a ghost that used to live in a jar that’s fine by us.”

“He is not my best friend,” I repeated, shooting my glare towards George then back to Kipps. “And we’re getting him back.”

“Oh, really?” said Holly, trying to sound enthusiastic and failing horribly.

“Yes,” Lockwood affirmed. “George reckons the Winkman’s took it, so I should expect it’ll be appearing on the black-market sometime soon. You know what that means!”

“No disguises,” I said. “I’m still reeling from that time you nearly got beaten up by that old northern lady cos you got Yorkshire and Lancashire mixed up.”

“They’re both from the North!” Lockwood exclaimed. “Also, that war was hundreds of years ago, why are they still holding grudges?”

“And that is precisely why she started beating you with her handbag.”

“Also, I really don’t think you should go infiltrating any more secret operations,” Holly chided in. “Not after we just took down the Orpheus Society.”

“In a manner of speaking,” said George. “DEPRAC haven’t managed to track them all down yet.”

“Exactly!” Holly continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re somehow behind the skull going missing. And if they see you at some black-market auction, I doubt they’re going to be friendly.”

“It’ll be fine!” said Lockwood. “We’ve managed before.”

“You nearly got killed both times,” said George.

Lockwood ignored him. “All we need are some extra good disguises. And I promise I won’t try any accents this time.”

“I’m sorry, Lockwood, but I agree with Holly,” I said. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. You’ve been all over the papers lately. You’ll be easy to recognise, even with a disguise.”

Lockwood looked crestfallen and I felt a little guilty, but not enough to let him risk his life. “I suppose that’s true,” he conceded. “In that case, Quill and I could wait in a cab outside, while the rest of you go to look for the skull.”

“We don’t even know where it’ll be yet,” Kipps reminded us. “You’re just assuming it’s being put up for auction.”

“Ah, yes,” said Lockwood. “I think you’re going to have to have a little word with Flo, George. See if she’s heard anything. Then…”

There was a knock at the back door and everyone gave a little jump, then Lockwood pulled the door open to reveal none other than Florence Bonnard, in all her baggy-clothed, grimy glory.

“Speak of the devil,” Lockwood said, smiling at her.

“Alright, Locky?” said Flo, sniffing and wiping her nose with a sludge-covered finger, which did more harm than good in my opinion. Flo looked over Lockwood’s shoulder and, ignoring the rest of us, gave George a grin. “Hey, George.”

“Hey, Flo,” said George, grinning back at her. “What brings you here?”

Flo shoved past Lockwood to enter the kitchen and lean on the counter, leaving muddy footprints in her wake that made Holly wince. “Just thought you might like to know those Winkman’s are apparently doing trading with the Orpheus Society,” she said. “Word is they’ve got their hands on a type three ghost. One that sounds a lot like Lucy’s skull friend. That’s the kind of thing you wanted to hear about, right George?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Flo,” he replied.

We looked around at each other; our suspicions had been correct. For whatever reason, the remains of the Orpheus Society wanted the skull and had commissioned the Winkman’s to get it for them. And now we had to get it back.

110 notes · View notes