“Is it the Prophecy Machine? What do the Foxers have to do with that?”
Sabatino turned back to Finn and glared. “We discussed this, I believe. It isn't a machine that does anything. It's a toy for fools, is what it is.”
“It does something,” Finn said. “It grows all by itself, and it apparently drives people mad.”
“Well, that should be enough, don't you think? What more could you ask? If we really must pass the time together, Finn, I'd rather spend it doing something else. Like getting out of here, before Grandfather comes back. You don't happen to have a blade handy, do you? The old man took mine away.”
Finn had to laugh. “No, I don't have a blade. Would I be lying here talking to you?”
“No, I don't suppose you would.” Sabatino lifted his head, a great and painful effort, wrapped as tightly as he was.
“Left, not too far from your head. It's hard to tell in this feeble excuse for light, but I think there's a scrap of metal over there.”
“Why didn't you bring this up until now?”
“I didn't see the thing until now, damn you. Do you want to argue, or get out of here?”
“I'm bound the same as you. Everything's gone numb, I can't feel my toes.”
“You're closer than I am. It has to be you.”
“I told you—”
“Think about the pretty Newlie, Finn. That should warm you up. It would certainly do it for me.”
Finn refused to be annoyed. There was no use wanting to batter someone if you were both paralyzed.
He was sure he couldn't make it. He could feel everything from his head to his waist, but that didn't seem to help. One needed hands and feet. Limbs separated Man from the lower forms of life. No wonder larva never did a thing.
“Undulate,” Sabatino suggested. “Sort of scoot, you know? Push and then pull, push and then—”
“Shut up,” Finn said. “I can undulate without your help.” And he did exactly that. Pushed with his shoulders, then pulled, raising his belly off the ground, dragging his useless limbs behind. How long could one cut off circulation without ill effect? The word gangrene came to mind.
“A bit more, Finn.”
“Just be quiet. I'm over here and you're not.”
“Well, do excuse me.”
“I'm not even sure what you saw is metal at all. The closer I get, the worse this corner smells.”
“I'm sure it's metal, Finn.”
“It damn well better be. It better not be what I think it might be.”
Sabatino chuckled to himself. “Wouldn't that be a cruel jest? A fine tale to spin at TAVERN some time.”
“If you were there to tell it, you mean.”
“Do get on with it, Finn.”
Finn muttered to himself, cursing every Nucci from the present to the past.
Fits and Mitts, what a frightening thought … dozens, generations of Nuccis I've never heard about … !
“I've got it,” Finn said. “I'm happy to admit that you're right. It's a scrap of iron as broad as my hand. Rusty, but it still has an edge. There's some other pieces here, copper and some tin. But this should do quite well.”
“Excellent. Undulate over here, Finn. Let's do get out of here.”
“I don't care for that word. Try not to use it again.”
“Well, scamper won't do, and it's surely not scurry, not at that pace. Don't linger, Finn. I shall think of something on the way …”
IF HE GOT OUT OF THIS, WHICH SEEMED UNLIKELY at best, Finn would count it as the third, or even the second, most humiliating moment of his life. Scooting across the grimy floor, putting undulation out of mind, he managed, after a torturous, never-ending time, after forever had passed him by, to reach Sabatino against the far wall. With the scrap of rusty iron in his teeth, he moved quite close to the fellow's rather ponderous rear.
“If you cut me, Finn, I'll hold you accountable for it,” Sabatino said. “On my oath I will.”
“If I cut you,” Finn told him, “if your blood comes spurting like a fountain in the square, you'll never feel a thing. Your hands are a most unsightly shade of blue.”
Sabatino went silent after that. The cord the old man had used was older than Finn, but there was plenty of it. Finn's jaw was weary. Sweat poured down his brow to sting his eyes. He wanted to rest, but wasn't sure he could raise the scrap of iron again.
“I think you'd best hurry,” Sabatino said. “I don't feel we have a lot of time.”
“A keen observation. I wish I'd thought of that.”
“I'd remind you of the lovely Letitia, how she may, at this very moment, be in dire straits. I would, but I'm sure you'd take offense, you nearly always do—”
“Get up.”
“What?”
“Move your arms, roll about. Undulate, you ungrateful lout, your hands are free.”
“Oh, my good friend, I am in your debt. I shall never forget this most charitable act.”
“Yes, you will. Almost at once. Now get about it, damn you, before some crazed relation comes along. Your hands and your legs are going to hurt. Swallow the pain and get me out of here.”
Sabatino sat up and groaned, gritted his teeth as the blood rushed back into his limbs. He flexed his fingers, pounded his fists, then quickly tore the ropes from his feet.
He turned, then, and looked down at Finn. “I want you to never forget I could easily leave you here. I'm sure that thought has crossed your mind.”
“Never once,” Finn said, meeting Sabatino's eyes. “You are a scoundrel, a liar and a rogue. One of the most disgusting men I've ever known. Still, I never imagined you a coward, a man who'd leave his comrade, his brother in arms behind.”
Sabatino looked pained. “We are not comrades, Finn. Please don't use such a word referring to you and me. I despised you on sight. Nothing has happened to change my mind since.”
“Until this is over, we're brothers in arms. Hate, loathing and disgust have little to do with the matter till we're out of here.”
“I'm thinking about it.”
“Don't. Do it now. Before some family trait comes to mind …”
Grandfather Nucci had not left their swords where they might be easily found. For weapons, Finn and Sabatino ripped planks of wood off the floor as quietly as they could. Sabatino had a suggestion that Finn felt was sound. Removing sheets of tin from the wall, they fashioned hats that would cover their heads, leaving only slits for the eyes. These devices were ugly and crude, not at all like the helmets of old, but they would have to suffice.
“If it worked for Grandfather, it will surely work for us,” Sabatino said, with less assurance than Finn felt himself.
Before they left the room, he glanced at the plated walls again. There was something there he hadn't noticed from the floor. Crudely scratched upon each scrap were symbols that gave Finn a chill. Runes, spells, clear signs of sorcery, and none of it, Finn was dead sure, close to benign.
Grandfather Nucci had built this protective metal wall—and someone, the old man or someone else, had added some very dark magic as well.
He turned and waited as Sabatino opened the door a crack, then waved Finn to follow behind.
At once, Finn breathed a grateful sigh. He could still feel the awful tug of the machine, hear the faint, ever-present howl, but the makeshift helmet offered welcome relief. Without it, he knew that deadly thing would strip him of his senses, of his will.
He wished, now, that he had taken time to fashion one for Letitia herself. Whatever effects the emanations had upon the mind, they seemed to vanish when one was out of range, or wore some protective device.
Letitia is different, though … that horror has a strange hold upon her, some unwholesome sway … when I find her, she may be lost, nothing but a shell …
Finn swept the frightful thought from his mind. It wouldn't be so—she'd be his Letitia, she'd be just the same.
While each of the two had stubby candles scavenged from the grandfather's room, their path was trea
cherous and dim. Ceilings sagged abruptly, giving little time to duck. Floors tilted from one dizzy angle to the next, with scarcely any warning at all.
Finn tried not to think about Julia. He'd heard the terrible, sickening sound when the crazed old man had hurled her at the wall. Finn had built Julia with all his heart and skill, lovingly crafted every part. She was solidly made, but not meant for blows like that.
He couldn't, wouldn't, let himself dream that she'd survived. Julia was his glory, the height of his art, a thorn in his side, and he felt a great emptiness now that she was gone. All his thoughts were on Letitia now, for Letitia was not a machine. Letitia, he was certain, could still be alive.
“Watch yourself,” Sabatino said, gripping Finn's arm, holding him back. “Where do you think you're going now, man?”
Finn shook himself free of his thoughts, blinked, and found himself staring at a wall.
“Sorry. I was off somewhere.”
Sabatino's grip tightened. “You have judged me right, Finn. I have no affection for you. I would have left you bound back there, but I'd like to get out of here with all the same parts I brought in. You were fool enough to let me go. I'm smart enough to let you live. Get your mind off the Newlie. She's lost for good. Now you can watch over me.”
Finn couldn't see the fellow's features behind his tin mask, but he could read Sabatino's eyes.
“Brothers in arms, you know. Your words, I believe.”
“And don't mention her again. I won't put up with that.”
Sabatino turned away, holding his candle high, and ducked into a passage at his right.
“I don't suppose you have any idea where we are,” Finn asked. “This is your house, you know, not mine.”
“I told you before. I played in these corridors when I was a lad. I don't remember where. My guess is we're just above the main floor. I believe the library is right under here. Was, I mean. The bugs ate the books long ago.”
Finn stopped. “Then, if we tried to break through the floor—right here, we might be out of this place.”
“And again we might not. We might be on the bloody roof, or back in Grandfather's hidey hole.”
“I don't think so. I've tried to keep a sort of map in my head.”
Sabatino laughed. “Have you now? A lizard maker who conjures up maps on the side.”
“I did not mean my words as a jest.”
“No, you never do. Fools are more certain of themselves than their betters, I've always found it true.”
“And that better, that would be you …”
“A delightful thought occurs. Since Father has clearly broken his command to treat you well, I'm no longer bound to cancel our duel. Now I know we'll get out of here. I feel much better, Finn. The very thought of running you through—”
Sabatino's smile fell away. He stared at Finn as the lizard maker raised his plank of wood, and brought it down in a swift and deadly arc.
Sabatino cried out, threw up his arms in defense. Finn's blow missed him by an inch, but struck home soundly on the old man's skull.
The grandfather roared like a beast in pain, staggered back and slammed into a wall. Dust and rotten wood drifted in a veil from overhead. Sabatino turned quickly, pounding the fellow with his club. Families, Finn considered, don't always get along.
The old man shrieked, a horrid, mindless sound. Sabatino wouldn't stop. Finn was uncertain what to do. It wasn't right to kill one's kin, yet the grandfather would surely slay Sabatino if given half a chance.
Before Finn could make up his mind, the old man, seemingly helpless at his grandson's feet, reached out a bony arm and yanked Sabatino to the floor.
Sabatino cried out in surprise, dropped his club and clawed at the ground. Finn saw cold, unspeakable horror in the younger man's eyes. He knew Sabatino feared this ancient, mad relation, but he'd never seen, never even imagined, the kind of terror he witnessed now. Sabatino's face was frozen in a rictus of dread, lost, caught in hopeless desperation. His eyes had nearly disappeared, with only the whites revealed, and his face was the pallor of the dead.
The old man had taken so many brutal blows to the head, Finn couldn't bear to strike him there again. Instead, he kicked him soundly in the ribs. Clearly, this was the thing to do, for the savage let his grandson go, and whimpered off into the darkness again.
Sabatino struggled to his feet, brushed off his vest and patted a welt on his cheek.
“I must thank you for that, Finn. I had him under control, but your help enabled me to release him without further harm. He's quite insane, but one hates to kill one's blood.”
“That's very thoughtful of you,” Finn said.
“Besides, it's said to be bad luck. Or at least I think it is. Let me get my bearings again. We were headed that way, I feel.”
“No, just the opposite, as a fact.”
“Of course. Navigation is one of your skills, I believe. I'm sorry, but you're quite wrong again. It's this way. I think that's why we were attacked at that precise moment, at that very point. Grandfather knows this place like the back of his festered hand. He knew we were close to finding our way.”
Finn held his ground. “You're wrong. I'm quite sure of that. The emanations are strong here. My hat isn't doing much good.”
Sabatino smiled with total disdain. “As it happens, sir, we are over the kitchen right now. I can smell dinner on the stove. Do stand back if you will.”
“No, now don't do that …”
Almost before he could get the words out, Sabatino brought his boot down hard upon the floor. On the third or fourth kick, the wood began to splinter.
“You see,” Sabatino said, “we're nearly out of here.”
#x201C;I don't think so, something's wrong here—”
On the fifth kick, the floor gave way …
Sabatino stumbled back, nearly knocking Finn down. A bright burst of energy seared Finn's eyes, tugged at his flesh, tore at his bones. Sabatino cried out, but Finn couldn't hear. The Great Horror shrieked, thundered and roared, clattered and howled, twisted and tangled in tortured convolutions, as if it might rip itself apart….
… and, once more, Finn was frightfully aware of the foul, obscure distortions, the sluggish bits of darkness that wound their fearsome way through the vile crusted entrails of Calabus' hellish machine. Even this close, he could not tell what those shapeless forms might be. And, he was more than thankful he could not.
He and Julia had guessed that Calabus' strange device was, indeed, prodding, pushing, thrusting itself blindly through the Nucci mansion as it grew.
And where might it go after that, he wondered. What might it want to do … ?
FINN COULD ONLY VAGUELY RECALL THE STRUGGLE to escape the thing's grasp. Crawling, gasping for breath, the terrible emanations howled in his head. Sabatino had bragged that he was scarcely bothered by the awful emissions from below. Still, it was Finn who dragged the fellow free, up the dizzy floors, down the crooked halls, until they were far enough away.
Sabatino muttered and thrashed about. Finn would have bound him up again if he'd had a piece of rope. Instead, he cursed Sabatino every step of the way, even the step that found another dead end, one exactly like the rest.
Finn stopped and sank wearily to the ground. Sabatino slept on. Now and then, bubbles appeared at the corners of his mouth. Finn looked away in disgust. Maybe he could leave the lout here. Go back and find Letitia, gather up poor Julia's parts. Come back and find Sabatino again. He wasn't likely going anywhere, not for some time.
“If I had another piece of rope,” Finn said to himself, “one like the one that I don't have now, I could tie one end right here, and find my way back. All right, no rope. I'll have to just—hah, indeed!” Patting desperately at his pockets, he found the small coil of silver wire he'd bought at market. He could use a rope of any sort, but wire, to a craftsman, was a comforting thing to have around.
His legs were shaky. He laid his hands flat against the wall to pull himself erect. Sabatino's ca
ndle was gone, but Finn still had a stub. Not much of a light, but better than groping in the dark. Better than—
Finn stopped. A small patch of brightness suddenly appeared. Or maybe it had been there all along, and he simply hadn't seen it from the floor. It was only the size of a half-penny coin, but it was bright, brighter than anything he'd seen in this miserable maze.
“Bright,” Finn said aloud, his heart fairly pounding in his chest, “bright as it can be. Snails and Whales, it's bright as day itself, we've been in here all night, though it doesn't seem that way at all!”
“Whu-huhsa?”
“It's daylight,” Finn laughed. “Daylight, sunlight, I'd forgotten what a marvelous thing it is!”
Sabatino opened his eyes to that. “I told you I'd get us out of this, but you had no faith, you'd given up hope, you wouldn't listen to your comrade in arms. You were too busy thinking about yourself …”
Finn didn't hear him at all. He was pounding on the wall, ripping boards free, letting the harsh, beautiful light into the gloomy room. He could see clouds now, white and pure and clean, see the sunlight blazing on the earth, shining on the sea.
“I'll help in a moment,” Sabatino said. “I seem to have bruised myself a bit. Damn me, Finn, I don't recall this place at all, what are we doing here?”
Finn had a proper hole now, big enough to stick his shoulders through. He was two stories up, maybe three. There was no way to tell in a house such as this, where height had no meaning at all.
He could see one edge of the town, a piece of the winding road. And, directly below, dead trees and yellow weeds.
Now, he could really use that rope, the one he didn't have for Sabatino, the one he meant to use to find his way. Still, they were out, they were free, he could get proper lamps and provisions, go back in for Letitia Louise. And anyone who tried to stop him, anything that got in his way—
Something splintered, and he suddenly felt the wall give way beneath him. Finn grabbed for a hold, tried desperately to stop. Then he was gone, down and on his way without a rope of any kind …
SHE DREAMED ABOUT THE SEA. IT WAS NOT A SEA she'd ever seen, not the sea they'd crossed, the sea that had brought them to this strange and deadly land. This was a sea that had likely never been, the kind that lives in dreams.
The Prophecy Machine (Investments) Page 23
