“Is it over, is it done? Are we all right, Finn?” Letitia ran her sleeve across her mouth, wiping away the dust.
“I would think so. Whatever it was, it's apparently over for now. Nevertheless, subterranean quarters are not the place to be when the earth begins to shift about. You bring my cloak, Letitia, I'll get the torch. We'd best make our way out of here.”
“A sound call, you ask me,” Julia said.
“I don't believe anybody did.”
Finn opened the heavy door, thankful the mysterious tremor hadn't jammed the thing shut. The long hallway looked just as it had before. Cavernous and dark, except for the torches, set wide apart on the wall.
“All right, we seem to be clear. Let's hurry on, now.”
“Not that way,” Letitia said. “We need to go right.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, dear.”
“She is,” Julia said. “And there's someone else out here as well.”
“What? Yes, Dostagio-I'm very glad you're here,” Finn said, catching sight of the fellow now, as he stepped out of the dark. “We're about to make our way out. There was some sort of quake.”
“Not really, sir. It wasn't a quake, it was the Millennial Bell. Shook things up quite a bit upstairs.”
“The millennial bell, you say?” Finn was uncertain he'd heard the man right. “What's that all about?”
“Sir,” Dostagio said, as if he hadn't heard a word, “If you'll follow me, you might wish to clean up a bit: we'll find you some proper clothes. Breakfast will be at eight. I expect His Grace will be there. He's always quite hungry after he's been dead a while… “
TWENTY-TWO
"No, I'm not going to ask him that, and you're not either, Julia. The King's got his church, and I've got mine. It's not our concern. It might be the fellow simply decided to get up early this time.”
“He's right,” Letitia said softly, for sound carried much too well in the vast stone hall. “I'm curious too, but perhaps someone will explain.”
“If I'm not being too impertinent,” Dostagio said, without missing a step, without turning about, “what is the nature of that thing wobbling about at your side? Is it yours? I don't recall seeing it before.”
“It's a lizard, and no, you didn't have a chance to see it when we arrived.”
“A lizard, you say?”
“Yes, that's what they're called. That's what I do. I make lizards of every sort.”
“Very well, sir.”
A twist here, another there, walls, torches, and a myriad of doors. Where these doors might lead, Finn couldn't guess, and wasn't sure he wished to know.
Finally, however, the grim, black-marble walls came to an end. In their place were grim, black-marble stairs, spi-raling up from the depths. A warm, more comforting breeze wafted down from above, driving away the chill of the underground world.
“If I should lose my senses and leave the surface of the earth, ever again-I beg you, Finn, stop me, by whatever means.”
“A promise, my dear.”
Julia, as agile, quick and spry as any creature of flesh and bone, had met her match on the winding marble stairs. At times she simply stalled, iron claws spinning against the slick, unyielding stone. She moved in a blink, in a blur of motion, going nowhere at all.
Neither Finn nor Letitia made any move to help, or even notice she was there. If senses beyond either human or Newlie were a virtue, then pride was Julia's sin.
As they approached the top of the staircase, they could see, ‘round the corner, not the dim flicker of torches, but the first, hopeful beams of nature's light itself. And, a few steps farther into the ascent, a dazzling dome of brightly colored glass came into sight.
“How perfectly lovely,” Letitia said, squinting into the unfamiliar splendor overhead. “What a marvelous thing to see!”
“Finely crafted, indeed,” Finn added, mostly to himself.
He noted, upon a second look, that a face was pictured there, a face of extraordinary beauty, features captured in an instant of unbridled joy, triumph and release.
“It is called The Happy Dead, sir,” Dostagio said, as if guessing Finn's thoughts. “One of our finest works of art. You will see, as we reach the final steps, it is the first of such wonders made to light the Hall of Lengthy Termination, the Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings.”
“Oh, dear!” Letitia, first on the heels of their guide, clasped a hand to her breast, as if she could scarcely breathe. “Never have I seen such a marvel in my life. Finn, I can't believe my eyes.”
Finn, too, was stunned by the sight. He felt a pang of both envy and pride, for the artisans who had created these masterpieces clearly possessed skills unsurpassed.
Each magnificent statue stood atop a solid, polished obsidian base. The works themselves, carved of the whitest, purest marble Finn had ever seen, stretched down the long passageway in seemingly endless array, the whole brightened by still more dazzling colored domes arching overhead.
The marvel of these pieces lay in their extreme sense of detail. Each gem-encrusted crown, each fold in a ruler's cape, each vein, each feature of royal countenance, was sculpted with most exquisite care.
And so many, Finn thought, such a long line of kings! Prince Aghen Aghenfleck's forebears, he knew, could be traced for many generations, but nothing so ancient as this.
“His castle isn't that grand, either,” Finn whispered to Letitia. “I wonder if the arrogant fool knows what his foe has over here?
“I must say, Dostagio, I have seen fine art in a number of lands, but these marbles of your kings are most notable, indeed.”
“Oh, no, not marble, if I may correct you, sir,” Dostagio said, pausing to face his charges there. “Crystallization, as it were. Deanimation, wherein one is shifted to an unresponsive state. Awfully painful, I understand, but nobility has its ups and downs, you know. Are you all right, Miss? Can I get you a goblet of water, perhaps a cup of tea…?”
TWENTY-THREE
Letitia Louise, queasy, slightly out of sorts and weak in the knees, completely forgot about petrified potentates and calcified kings the moment they reached the top of the twisted stairs.
The sight before her was spacious, immense, though neither word could describe the beauty and grandeur of the place. Another, even greater dome of glass arched a good hundred feet above the floor, and was easily twice as wide. Countless delicate shards of fractured glass clung together in spiderwebs of lead. Unlike the brighter hues in the Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings, the glass here was a thousand, muted shades of amber, rose, coral, saffron and tangerine. And, scarcely there at all, lest keen eyes searched them out, pale breaths of lilac, lavender and beryl-blue.
The startling effect of these colors was a light that painted every surface, infused the very air, with the subtle magic of golden dawn.
Yet, there were still more marvels in this wondrous room. From the base of the dome, from depths as azure as the sea, sprouted shadowy lengths of stone, impossibly thin columns that rose on tapered stems to blossom into broad, graceful petals, shapely lily pads.
These elegant circlets were of different heights, some stretching nearly to the top of the dome itself. Fifty or so, Finn guessed, and maybe more. The giant stems were made of alabaster, olivine, milkstone and quartz. Opal, onyx and jade. Finn stared in disbelief at these structures, for he knew such stones, minerals and gems couldn't possibly stand under the stress of this magnificent design, even if such staggering amounts of these materials could be found.
“Yet, it is there, indeed,” Finn said aloud. “And though I've found it wise to question many things I see, I believe there are a great many people eating breakfast here, and they don't look dead to me.”
“If I were deeply entombed,” Letitia said, “I feel that I'd get hungry too.”
“It smells good as well,” Julia said, with a rusty sigh. “I've already separated seventeen individual scents, all of them edible, eight of which I wouldn't touch
if I were you.”
“I would rather decide that myself, if it's all the same to you. A mechanical device that doesn't eat is not the best judge of fine cuisine.”
“Do the words ‘toxic,’ ‘venomous,’ ‘poison,’ have any meaning to you? Consider ‘fatal,’ if you will.”
“Come now, sir and Miss, and lizard, I believe,” said Dostagio. “I shall find you a comfortable table at a level suited to your class, and see that you're served dishes I am certain will please and delight, and do you little harm at all… “
Narrow, circling stairs twisted around the sides of the dome, now and then leading to fragile, hanging bridges that joined one pad to the next-frail, swaying spans that looked more decorative than useful to Finn.
“Don't look down,” he said. “You'll likely get queasy, nauseous, feverish, and dizzy as well. You may suffer chills, diarrhea or fits.”
“How do you know, Finn?”
“Because four of those things are happening to me, and I expect the others will as well.”
“If you fall, dear, I'm eating your breakfast. Think about that.”
Julia Jessica Slagg, certain she could easily cross this span herself, came across in Letitia's arms, chuckling with a sound like rocks rattling about in a can.
I cannot get used to the disparity, the contrast here. As you say, these persons of the Toomer persuasion lie in the chill, dreary depths of the palace, then pop up for lunch in this marvelous place. Letitia, look around you. I doubt there's a structure on earth that can claim such a blend of art and architectural beauty.”
“I wonder if we can ever get a waiter over here. Everything smells delicious, and I'm starving, Finn.”
“I'm certain someone will be along. You've noticed, I guess, that Dostagio was right. Seating in this place is clearly determined by rank. Those folk in cheap, clashing colors directly above us are courtiers, toadies, parasites of every sort. I can spot their kind anywhere. They all look like Count VanDork at Aghenfleck's court.
“The ones directly above them are of noble birth. They all look very much alike, for they are related to one another in various ways. No chins, bad hair. Folk who wear satin and have someone tie their shoes.”
“And up in the heights,” Letitia finished, “where we cannot see, that would be the King, above all the rest?”
“Indeed. You can rest assured the royals will be just out of sight.”
And, Finn noted, even if one couldn't see the King and his family and his favorites gathered about, they would look like kings were supposed to look, for sure. Cunning, sly, with penetrating eyes and a practiced smile. And, though they managed to follow a train of thought sometimes, not overly bright.
As he watched, craning his neck to see the sight, something hurtled down from the heights-a single object, then another after that. The first was half a cake, plummeting end over end, a chocolate comet trailing dark crumbs in its wake.
The second was a blur, possibly a peach. It came very close to the edge of Finn's alabaster pad, then splattered on the diners below. A lady cursed, but was quickly hushed, for it was clear the missive came from royal hands above.
The food was delightful, or surely fine enough for Finn and Letitia, who had not had a morsel since they'd dropped on this land in ill-fated balloons.
As far as Finn was concerned, their server was much too close a match to Dostagio. As if, like the other, he too was decked out to play a role at the ball.
“There seem to be quite a few of them about,” Letitia said, mopping up a lake of eggs, squashberries and mush with a heel of poppy bread.
“You don't believe what Dostagio told us, do you, dear? I mean, how he's one of the Gracious Dead.”
“No more than I believe the King actually dies for nine months, then comes up for lunch. No, it's a religious rite of some sort, and a very peculiar one at that.
“Do I believe they believe it? Oh, yes. You certainly recall our misadventure among the Hooters and the Hatters. A zealot, a loony, can hound you to death, whether his faith is real or not.”
“If I were you, Finn-and I'm only a mechanical de-vice-I would keep my voice down a bit, as several of those zealots and loonies over there are giving us the eye.”
“Yes, well.” Finn pretended to gaze at something else nearby, and saw that Julia was right. Two stocky louts, with coal-black beards and brows that sprouted like hedges above their eyes, were indeed scowling Finn's way. Both wore brown waistcoats, full pantaloons, ruffled collars and plume-bedecked hats, all in colors that assaulted Finn's eyes.
“Thank you, Julia, I should have taken a care.”
There was little Finn despised more than admitting Julia was right, and he couldn't resist the chance to take a little back.
“It might be, however, they have simply never seen a lizard before. I'm sure I wouldn't know what to make of you if I hadn't thought you up in my head. I expect I'd be appalled at the sight.”
“More likely awed, amazed, I should say. Stunned, astonished at such a marvel before your eyes. Rapt, totally overwhelmed-”
“Dostagio didn't seem impressed at all,” Letitia added, reaching across to fork a puffball or two. She wouldn't touch the carp, for Mycer folk did not eat things that had once been alive.
“Though that surprises me not at all,” she added, “for whatever the First Servant might be, he and the others of his kind, he is not like any human I've come across before. It's not a Newlie behind that somber face, I'll tell you that.”
“Julia?” Letitia set down her fork and gave the lizard a thoughtful look. “With all your extraordinary senses-”
“Extraordinary, indeed, Letitia, in nearly every way. But I don't sense anything in the fellow. I can't get past that somber mien. I've tried, but I cannot.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. It is much like trying to penetrate a stone.”
“Damned peculiar, I'd say,” Finn said.
Letitia sighed. “I don't know if you can use such a word in a place like this. Odd, and unusual, seem quite ordinary here.”
“I'm not sorry I got the chance to see this marvelous sight,” Finn said, “but I won't be sorry to finish what we came for, and get out of here. The peace and serenity of Garpenny Street are more to my liking, I don't have to tell either of you that.
“And, incidentally, Julia, I have been having some exciting ideas in the area of utilizing your enhanced senses to make incredibly small mechanical devices. Devices, that in turn, could produce even smaller devices still.
“We have discussed this often before, and I believe we can move along with it now. As soon as we can head for home, of course. I don't feel there's much use in exchanging scientific thoughts here-”
As if in answer, as if real life were a playlet or a mime, a familiar actor appeared to speak his lines.
“Ah, Master Finn, Miss, and lizard as well,” Dostagio said, standing alarmingly close to the edge of the dining pad, “I have spoken with Eighth Tallest Chancellor Heffik-Lor, who has carried my message to Fifth Heaviest Councilor Cletz, who “Well, to the point, sir, which is that your presence, your mission, has reached the ears of the King, and His Grace wishes to say he does not desire your gift, and he would like you out of his presence at once.”
“What? What's that?” Finn found it hard to comprehend what the fellow had to say.
“Not immediately, sir, for there is quite a storm rushing at us from the south, and His Grace is a kindly man, in his way. It will not be possible to launch any craft of the aerial persuasion, and he would not be responsible for your demise, your, ah-death, as it were. Not that there's anything wrong with that, you understand…”
TWENTY-FOUR
"What it is,”Finn said, feeling as if steam might rise from his collar, might, indeed, whistle from his ears, “what it is is plain arrogance, scorn, outright contempt. That's a royal for you, no sense of decency, no feeling for anyone except their own bloody selves!”
“I suppose that's so,” Letitia said, g
lancing about, laying a restraining hand on his. “But I believe this is what you were asking for, only moments ago. Just leave that infernal clock on the table, in the hall, anywhere, and let's be gone from here.”
“Of course, that's exactly what I'll do. Goes without saying. That doesn't excuse the fellow's bad manners, though. There's no way he can make up for that.”
“Most likely, he won't even try,” Julia said. “He's a king, you know.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“She was just clearing her throat, dear. Getting the rust out. Are you going to finish your parsley pie?” “Yes, if you don't mind?”
“What you do about this mess is your concern, love, but don't you take it out on us, you understand? Julia's of the mechanical persuasion, and I'm just a Newlie. We are not responsible for big mental decisions, we are only here to serve humankind-”
“If I have said something to offend…”
“Why, whatever made you think so, dear?”
“If I may interrupt,” said Julia Jessica Slagg, making her way up Finn's back, iron claws digging at his cape, “those men are looking at us again.”
“I can't be responsible for that. They can look if they like.”
Finn squeezed the arms of his chair. His feet had gone to sleep, and he wanted to stomp.
“I don't see anyone leaving. Do you suppose we all have to sit here till the King's finished his lunch? Maybe he'll toss more fruit at the common folk to let us know.”
“Finn…Those two men, they aren't looking at us. They're looking at him.”
Finn twisted halfway around. The stranger was coming toward them over the fragile bridge that linked their dining pad to the outer wall. The bridge swung perilously as the fellow crossed, until the wooden slats began to clatter and roll in dizzy oscillation, like waves upon a beach.
The being coming at them clearly didn't care. He was a short, stumpy creature, but every muscle, every limb, spoke of great power and strength. His body, clothed beneath a dark green robe and chain mail, was totally at ease.
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