The Hexologists (The Hexologists, #1)

by Josiah Bancroft

if the remains of Mr. Horace Alman were not claimed within twenty-four hours, he would be added to the weekly grave: an ever-expanding pit outside of town where deceased prisoners and the recently executed were anointed with lye and interred by steam shovel.

“I’d be careful around Mr. Cholmondeley if I were you. He may have a sorcerer on his payroll. And there could be a military connection. I can’t say for sure.” The flock’s reply seemed tense with surprise. “A sore-sir-er? Are you sure? The last was kill-ed in the war years a-go.” “I thought so, too, but apparently not.” Hands in her pockets, Isolde flapped the snow from her coat, seeming for a moment to be attempting to join the flock as it began to take wing. “This is die-er news, in-deed. I will look in-to it, Miss Will-be. The na-tion is grate-ful for your help.” Isolde gave a brisk bow. “And the help thanks the nation to leave her alone.”