MR. CREPSLEY WAS SMOOTHING OVER the mound of earth when I returned. I watched him work. The shovel was large and heavy but he handled it as if it were made out of paper. I wondered how strong he was and how strong I would one day be.
I considered telling him about Steve but was afraid he'd go after him. Steve had suffered enough. Besides, his threat was an idle one. He'd forget about me and Mr. Crepsley in a few weeks, when something new grabbed his attention.
I hoped.
Mr. Crepsley looked up and frowned. "Are you sure you are all right?" he asked. "You seem very uptight."
"So would you if you'd spent the day in a coffin," I replied.
He laughed out loud. "Master Shan, I have spent more time in coffins than many of the truly dead!" He gave the grave one last hard whack, then broke the shovel into little pieces and tossed them away. "Is the stiffness wearing off?" he asked.
"It's better than it was," I said, twisting my arms and waist. "I wouldn't like to fake my death too often, though."
"No," he mused. "Well, hopefully it will not be necessary again. It is a dangerous stunt. Many things can go wrong."
I stared at him. "You told me I'd be safe," I said.
"I lied. The potion sometimes drives its patients too far toward death and they never recover. And I could not be sure they would not perform an autopsy on you. And...Do you want to hear all this?" he asked.
"No," I said sickly. "I don't." I took an angry swing at him. He ducked out of the way easily, laughing as he did.
"You told me it was safe!" I shouted. "You lied!"
"I had to," he said. "There was no other way."
"What if I'd died?" I snapped.
He shrugged. "I would be down one assistant. No great loss. I am sure I could have found another."
"You...you...Oh!" I kicked the ground angrily. There were lots of things I could have called him but I didn't like using bad language in the presence of the dead. I'd tell him what I thought about his trickery later.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.