"Oh, but we've one down here," L'Age informed her.
"I'm sure the one upstairs is much nicer." Petty tripped away toward the wide, curving staircase beyond the drawing room archway.
"Quickly, Frank! Fetch!" L'Age cried.
Frank roared and whirled about, crashing heavy-footed after Petty. Very heavy-footed, and he had a doubtful look on his face. But Petty glanced back, gasped in horror, and fled.
L'Age, however, felt no compunction. She dashed past the slow-footed Frank and grabbed a lever just inside the hallway. As Petty hit the first step, L'Age hauled on the lever, and the first three stairs fell away as a hidden panel opened. Petty's scream faded away as she dropped into the cellar.
"Down!" L'Age commanded, glaring at Frank and pointing into the hole.
Muttering protest, Frank sat down on the edge of the hole, one foot at a time.
"Faster, monstrosity! Faster!"
Frank grumbled something that sounded like, "Not right."
"Don't you dare preach to me!" L'Age screamed, and slammed a kick into his fundament. Frank bellowed as he dropped into the cellar.
He picked himself up just in time to see Petty pelting madly up the cellar stairs. Frank heaved 1) a sigh, and 2) himself (to his feet). He thudded over to the steps just as Petty reached the top. She pounded on the door, rattling the latch, screaming. Frank waited for her to take a breath, then rumbled, "Turn."
"What?" Petty looked down at her hand, saw it shaking the knob back and forth. "Oh! Yes! Thanks." She turned the knob and burst out into the foyer just as Frank pounded up to the halfway mark.
"Catch her, Frank! Catch her!" L'Age screamed, but Petty had rounded the turn and was vaulting over the hole in the staircase. "Can't anybody around here do something right?" L'Age howled, and yanked on another lever.
With a rumble, the stairs started moving—downward, of course. Petty cried out in frustration and ran harder, but the escalator picked up speed, and she just barely managed to stay in place.
"Catch her, Frank! Catch her!" L'Age screamed.
Frank plowed his way out of the cellar with a rumble of disgust and veered around the corner to the stairway. He leaped the open trapdoor—and hit the escalator. Even his huge, galumphing strides couldn't make headway, though admittedly, he wasn't trying very hard.
"Incompetents!" L'Age screamed. "All I get in this script are incompetents!" She glared up at the ornate brass-armed chandelier that hung over the stairway, then tore open a black panel in the foyer wall. With a snarl, she threw a power key, then thrust her hands into two metallic gloves. Current began to hum through servomotors, and the brass arms of the chandelier curved downward into two huge hands. They swung down on their lengthening chain, groping toward Petty. Suddenly, they plunged and snatched. Petty leaped aside with a scream, and the giant hands closed on empty air. The shock gave Petty a boost, and she made it two more stairs. The giant hands groped after her.
Out in the kitchen, the Scots terrier came bounding up to Roderick, yapping and growling. Roderick frowned down at it. "What's that? What did you say?… Logical inconsistencies? What, for example?"
The dog snarled and barked sharply.
"Yes…" Roderick nodded, lower lip thrusting out. "Now that you mention it, I had noticed that…"
The dog yapped three times and growled.
"Frank couldn't expend all this energy without a recharge, that's true," Roderick agreed. "And it is rather odd that a couple of vampires wouldn't have drained Auntie Dil and myself when they commandeered our house…"
Deviz yapped frantically, angrily.
"'Wake up?'" Roderick frowned, shaking his head. "What are you talking about? We are awake."
The terrier nearly went frantic.
"What do you mean, we're just dreaming?" Roderick shook his head again. "I don't understand."
"Nay, but I do!" Auntie Dil cried. She swept out the kitchen door with Deviz at her heels, yapping triumphantly.
Auntie Dil sailed into the foyer, crying, "Frank! Frank! Whoever thou truly art. Thou must waken! Dost'a hear me? Then hearken! Frank, waken!"
"You meddling busybody! What do you think you're doing?" L'Age cried.
Frank only grunted and kept running.
"He's a very primitive android," Buzzabeez explained as he appeared. "He can't take more than one order at a time. But you can! Now get back to the kitchen—that's your place!" He stabbed a finger at the swinging door.
"My place? Only for that I'm a woman? Nay! For I'll have thee know I'm a lady of power!" Auntie Dil drew back her hand, cupping invisible energy.
"Just my luck—an activist housekeeper," Buzzabeez snorted. "All right, go ahead. Try it!"
"Croak and hop!" Auntie Dil cried, throwing a whammy.
Blue sparks coruscated around Buzzabeez. He stood against it, letting the sparks dissipate. Then he advanced on her, seeming to swell and grow taller, and infinitely more menacing.
"But… how? Wherefore?" Auntie Dil cried, as she backed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
"Why, because you're only…"
The swinging door swung.
"Yeowtch!" cried Buzzabeez, as it slammed into his face. He pushed through, rubbing his nose and glowering at Auntie Dil. "It's because you're only a witch, you old bat!"
"I resent that!" L'Age's voice cried on the other side of the door.
"Only a witch," Buzzabeez snarled again, "and I'm a devil. A full-fledged, high-powered, hundred-percent devil— and much more evil than any mere witch…" He suddenly closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his forehead and swaying. "What am I saying? I can't be evil; I mustn't be! I mustn't give in to it… No, I must! If I don't enforce some disorder here, who will?" He lowered his hand, glaring at Gwen. "Where was I?… Oh, yes." Buzzabeez grinned his most oily. "A devil's more evil than any witch—so I'm much more powerful. That's the hell of it."
But Auntie Dil straightened, glaring in fury. "Nay! Evil's not the source of power—not of my sort of power, at all accounts! For I am no Auntie Diluvian, but Gwendylon Gallowglass, most powerful witch of Gramarye!"
Roderick stiffened, staring. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, and gave his head a quick shake.
"I am Gwen Gallowglass," the old fortune-teller cried, "and I will not tolerate such deceptions and…"
"Be quiet, you fool!" Buzzabeez shrieked. "You'll ruin the whole selection!" And he stretched his hand backward to throw, as a fireball exploded into existence between his fingertips.
"Look out, Gwen!" the old hunchback cried, and he threw himself at her. His shoulder slammed into her a split second before the fireball hissed through the air where she'd been, and she tumbled head over heels into the dumbwaiter.
Roderick hauled 1) himself to his feet, then 2) on the dumbwaiter rope. The compartment lifted up out of sight.
"I'll take that rope!" Buzzabeez snarled, but the bell chimed, and Roderick cried, "Second floor! Linens and bedroom furniture! All out!"
"Out of the way!" Buzzabeez howled. "Let me at that dumbwaiter!"
Roderick slammed the panel shut and whirled around to face the devil, leaning back and folding his arms. "What dumbwaiter?"
"That dumbwaiter you're leaning against!"
Roderick shook his head. "Never was such a thing. Just a figment of your imagination."
"What are you talking about?" Buzzabeez cried. "I saw it with my own eyes!"
"Yes, but can you really believe the evidence of your senses? That might have been a hallucination, you know."
"Ridiculous," the devil scoffed. "Claim that, and next you'll be saying the whole universe is maya, illusion."
"Well, isn't it?" Roderick demanded. "At least, if you're a good Hindu."
"But I'm not—I'm a good Catholic!" Buzzabeez went rigid, shocked at his own words. "What am I saying?"
"That you're a good Catholic," Roderick answered obligingly.
"Yes, yes! I'm a good Catholic… No! I mean, I'm a bad Catholic! No! I mean…"
"You mean
, nothing exists," Roderick prompted.
"That's right! Nothing exists! None of you! You're all just figments of my imagination! This is all just a dream… NO! I can't be saying that!"
"See? Even your words don't exist!" Roderick jabbed a forefinger. "Come to that, even you don't exist!"
"What are you saying? Of course I exist!"
"Ah, but how do you know you exist?"
"Why, because I think! Cogito, ergo sum!" Buzzabeez clapped his hands over his mouth. "Iyuch! Latin!"
"Bite your tongue!" Roderick reproved. "Wash your mouth out!"
"Yes! With brimstone! And hot coals! Even as the angel cleansed the lips of the prophet Isaiah with… Oh, hell! Hel-1-l-l-l-p!" And Buzzabeez fled screaming, and faded into thin air.
"Thick air, really." Roderick sniffed, and wrinkled his nose. "Phew! Now I know why religions use incense… Well! Back to work." And he limped merrily out into the foyer, where the escalator was still running, with Frank galumphing along after Petty, who was sprinting flat-out for all she was worth, and dodging the claws of the erstwhile chandelier, which still somehow hadn't managed to catch her.
Roderick limped over to the stairway, pulled open a panel underneath it, yanked off his wooden shoe, and shouted, "Down with the bosses!" as he threw it into the gearbox. He slammed the door shut just as something inside cracked like a cannon shot, and the escalator jerked to a halt.
Petty shot on up the stairway and catapulted into the room at the top.
Frank crashed down flat on his face.
Inside the bedroom, Petty slammed the door shut. There was a hasp with a broken safety pin hanging by a thread; she slapped it shut and jammed the pin through.
Outside, L'Age screamed, "After her, iceberg bait!"
Frank scrambled to his feet and slogged on up the stairs, rumbling curses.
"Break down the door!" L'Age howled. "Get her out of there!"
Obediently, Frank hammered at the door with his fist.
The safety pin held.
Petty whirled about and sagged back against the door, gasping for breath, chest heaving.
The light of the oil lamp glowed on Sucar's face. He knelt beside the cot, rubbing McChurch's hand and moaning, "Wake up, wake up! Oh, I know it's no use; I've been trying for years, but if I keep on, maybe someday you'll open your eyes. Wake up, McChurch! Surely your name will protect you. Though I admit, it didn't do you much good when I shoved you in front of me at that crazy little hunchback. Oh, I never dreamed he'd render you insensible! I didn't mean it to happen, and I promise you, I've never tasted a drop. I never really wanted to be a vampire, anyway—but my mother would have her way! It's not really my natural role, you know; it's not my identity, it's not the real me! Not that I've anything against that kind of person, you understand—I just can't stand the sight of blood! At least, not the blood of people I like." He cocked his head. "Now, there's a thought! How about the blood of people I don't like? Take L'Age, now—could I acquire a taste for her? Could I lust for some of her blood? How would I feel if I had a chance to drain her? Ah, now that would be another matter!"
Petty stared at the handsome, muscular, unconscious young man, and gasped in wonder. The extra strain was just a little too much for steel hooks and eyes; with a muted ripping, her bosom expanded, lifting and mushrooming outward with a whoosh of displaced air.
McChurch frowned and turned his head a little, as though listening.
Petty didn't even notice; she was lost in gazing at her ideal of male beauty.
McChurch looked up at her, blinking, frowning. Then the sight of her registered, and he rolled out of bed with his eyes glowing. He was completely naked, and Petty did notice that, but a second later, she was wrapped in his embrace, and wasn't seeing much of anything, because her eyes were closed for her first, and very long, kiss.
In the wall, a panel slammed open, and Auntie Dil jumped out. She ran to McChurch and Petty and began to shake them, crying, "Waken! Thou must needs waken! Dost thou not know thou dost slumber? And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding but a dream!"
"If this is a dream, let me sleep forever," Petty murmured, and went back into the clinch.
"Nay! Now I say na_y/"Auntie Dil seized McChurch's arm and threw her weight back against it, trying to pull them apart, but McChurch stood like the rock of Gibraltar, as though he'd traded a horizontal coma for a vertical one. "Nay, nay!" Auntie Dil cried, tears in her eyes. "Dosta not know we come dreadfully close to the moment when the monster, Frank, shall come crashing through the door?"
"All right, that's enough of that!" Buzzabeez snapped as he climbed out of the dumbwaiter. "Let go of that body!"
Auntie Dil whirled to face him, arms outspread to protect the couple. "How didst thou come to be in that chamber?"
"I materialized there, to make sure your husband wasn't around." Buzzabeez advanced on her with a tiger's tread, glowering. "Now go to the kitchen, where you belong!"
"Go to hell," Auntie Dil retorted, "where thou dost belong!"
"Uh-h-h-h-h… End of scene!" Buzzabeez waved his hands back in front of his face, then whirled and stabbed a finger at the door. "Next scene!"
The broken safety pin gave way and the door crashed down. Frank stumbled in over it, and L'Age leaped past him, took one look at Petty and McChurch, and sprang at
Petty, shrieking. Her talons dug into Petty's arm as she yanked the girl away from McChurch, and her fangs flashed down at the virgin's fair, unprotected throat.
Her chin jarred against McChurch's arm as he raised it to fend her off. "Please, Mother! I'd rather do it myself." And his head descended down over Petty's again as he folded her back into his embrace.
"Ah, young love!" Roderick sighed, peeking in through the doorway. Then he frowned. "But that seems to remind me of something. I just wish I could remember what…"
"Don't let it bother you," Buzzabeez said quickly, "just a momentary aberration."
Roderick's roving gaze fell on Auntie Dil. He shook his head in wonder. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but I really want to be with that old slattern right now." And he started into the room, just as L'Age howled in rage and frustration, pulling out a dagger and charging at Petty.
Deviz scampered in between her feet.
L'Age tripped and crashed to the floor with a shriek that would have wakened bats.
Roderick, hurrying toward Auntie Dil, bumped into the ancient Christmas tree. It swayed and tottered.
"No!" Buzzabeez cried in anguish. "Catch it!" And he sprang forward, but the tree crashed down onto L'Age. Her head jerked up, eyes staring in agony, mouth gaping for a scream—and froze.
"Well, what do you know," Roderick murmured into the sudden hush, "the tinsel was real silver."
"Food!" Sucar screamed, and he pounced on L'Age with wild joy. "At last! Something I can really sink my teeth into!" He lifted L'Age by the shoulders and reared his head back, fangs springing out as he bared her throat—then froze. Puzzlement clouded his features. "How did I used to do this? It's been so long that I can't remember!"
"Just the way you're doing," Roderick prompted. "Bare her throat, then bite!"
"Don't give him any help!" Buzzabeez clapped a horny hand over Roderick's mouth, and Roderick recoiled at the stench. "You can't do it," the devil assured Sucar. "Not without condiments."
"Condiments! Of course! Now I remember!" Sucar dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a saltshaker with a triumphant flourish. "I always carry it with me, for my tomato juice!"
"No!" Buzzabeez screamed. "Don't you dare touch her with that!"
"Why not?" Roderick asked.
"Because… because…" Buzzabeez was trembling. "Why, because it isn't in the script!"
"What is a 'script'?" Auntie Dil asked, frowning.
"Only a prediction," Roderick assured her. "Nothing that can't be changed."
"You can't change it!" Buzzabeez howled. "It is written!"
"But I don't have to follow it. We are the masters of our own actions."
Deviz yapped up at Roderick.
"What?… He's afraid? Yes, I can see that… That means what? He shouldn't be? Why?… Because if he really had power over us, there wouldn't be any reason for fear? Hm! Good point, that!" Roderick looked up brightly.
Buzzabeez could see his brain working, and shuddered. "I order you not to think! It's immoral! I'll do the thinking around here!"
"No you won't," Roderick said reasonably, "you'll just follow a script." He frowned at the devil. "What makes you so tense, anyway?"
"I don't know." Buzzabeez stood rigid, trembling. "I really don't know."
Roderick pursed his lips. "Could it be you really want Sucar to use that salt?"
"I prefer saltpeter," Buzzabeez corrected. "After all, I'm a devil."
"Don't worry," Roderick assured him, "I'll figure it out."
"That's what I'm afraid of!"
"What? People doing their own thinking?" Roderick nodded. "Makes sense. You never can tell what'll happen then. Makes life totally unpredictable. And I am thinking, now."
Buzzabeez nodded, still trembling. "Becoming pretty willful, too."
"Yes, I am, aren't I?"
"Thou art near to wakening," Auntie Dil advised him.
"Yeah." Roderick frowned. "I just can't remember who I really am."
"Roderick," Buzzabeez said quickly. "Just ordinary old Roderick."
"Close." Roderick nodded. "Close. But maybe just a little too much."
Sucar pressed a hand to his forehead. "Come to think of it… I used to be somebody, too…"
"You still are," Buzzabeez snapped.
"No," Roderick contradicted, "right now, he's who you want him to be. And doing what you want him to do. We all are—just taking your orders, without resisting much. Between you and the script, you've had all of us just meekly accepting your orders."
"Yes! Wonderful way to live, isn't it? So peaceful! So harmonious!"
"For you, maybe. Not for the rest of us."
"But isn't it better this way?" Buzzabeez pleaded.
"NO!" said everybody, all at once—except L'Age, who was frozen, and Petty and McChurch, whose lips weren't free at the moment.
The Warlock Wandering Page 21
