“No. I think that shit might already be rising. When you were collecting soul vessels, how many you think you picked up a year? On average?”
“I don’t know, a couple a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less.”
“Yeah, me, too. So that’s about a hundred a year. And about fifty-five hundred people a year die in the city proper. So that means there must be, call it, fifty-five Death Merchants.”
“That sounds about right,” Charlie said. “I met the Death Merchant in Sedona who collected my mother’s vessel, he said about two a week, too.”
“Right,” said Minty. “So, when they all came up, when it hit the fan, we only knew a dozen Death Merchants in the city, and the Morrigan killed all but three of us. Two if we count you as dead.”
“Which I don’t,” Charlie said.
“But you don’t collect soul vessels anymore. You don’t have a shop to turn them around.”
“Okay, don’t count me.”
“And I sent your copy of the Great Big Book of Death to Inspector Rivera.”
“Yeah. I wonder how he’s doing.”
“He was in my shop right before you called. A banshee appeared in his bookstore and zapped him with a stun gun.”
“So, not adjusting well to retirement?”
“He hasn’t collected a single soul vessel.”
“None?”
The Mint One shook his head. “That’s at least a hundred souls not collected, not passed on to the new owner. Plus, we don’t know what happened to the souls the other dead Death Merchants were supposed to collect.”
“I always assumed that when a Death Merchant died someone took his place. Audrey says the universe just takes care of the mechanics of it. Everything seeks balance.”
“Audrey, the one who put you inside that little monster?”
Charlie waved his talons in the air as if to dismiss the point and realized that he might be helping to make it. “So you’re saying—what are you saying?”
“Rivera said the names appeared in his date book, even though he didn’t pick up the souls. What if no one has been collecting the souls of the Death Merchants who were killed? What if by defeating the Underworlders we threw things out of balance? What if the Death Merchants who were killed weren’t replaced? What if there are a thousand souls that haven’t been collected since the Morrigan rose? Maybe more. A lot of people were killed in the city at that time. What if some of them were Death Merchants we didn’t know about, and all of those souls haven’t been collected?”
“I used to hear them moving under the streets, calling out, if I was late collecting just one,” said Charlie. “When they got their hands on all the soul vessels in our shops—”
“It was a shit storm,” said Minty. “Now multiply that by ten, twenty.”
“So you think this banshee—?”
“I think the bitch is announcing coming attractions.”
“Sssssshit,” Charlie said, letting the s hiss out between his multitude of teeth.
“Uh-huh,” said Minty. “You know where your old date book is?”
“At my apartment, I guess. I can’t imagine Jane would have thrown it out.”
“Call her.” Minty pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.
“You’ll have to help me dial.” Charlie waved his talons before his face again. They were not suited for touch screens and buttons. He gave Minty Fresh the number. Cassie answered and they waited while she found Charlie’s date book—a three-year calendar with only one year used when he had died.
“It’s filled in for the whole year, Charlie,” said Cassie over the speaker. “The latest entry is today. How can that be?” Charlie looked up at Minty Fresh and again missed having eyebrows—if he’d had them, he’d have raised one at the tall Death Merchant.
“I don’t know, Cassie. I’m trying to figure it out. Let’s put the book back and I’ll call you as soon as I know anything. Thanks.”