And, as ever, through the filth and the splatter, there was something almost heard, something almost seen, a blur of dark motion rushing swiftly about within.
“Letitia!”
“Sabatino!”
A hopeless cry, his voice all but lost in the din.
Finn made his way through shuttering cogs and wheezing gears, through the tremble and the quaver and the roar, the awesome emanations shrieking through his head.
Unsteady on his feet, he nearly stumbled again, caught himself, and-
— there and then it struck, hit him like a great enormous fist, a wall that wasn't there, a wall he couldn't see.
He shook himself, dazed, dazzled, stupefied. The machine was still there, but there was something else as well, something vaguely sketched, like a shimmer, like a veil, like a thousand panes of crystal that shimmered in impossible light.
The sight made him queasy, made him want to retch. The rapid oscillation numbed his sense of balance, his sense of far and near. Finn took a step, and UP swept him over, DOWN jerked him back to his right and to his left, turning him in directions he'd never seen before.
He shouted, flailed about, but no words came out. He was spinning, whirling like a top, but he couldn't move a bit. A face he'd never seen before loomed up at him, grinned and disappeared. Another, and another after that, one face atop the next moving so incredibly fast they seemed to be made of molten wax.
The faces vanished.
Finn vanished as well …
He stood on a flat, endless plain, as great shaggy beasts plodded by under a broiling sun that dropped into the bloody sea as the mighty vessel died, spewing gouts of flame, flame that reflected in the woman's chocolate eyes as the silver craft whined overhead, as the stars swept by in a spidery veil, a veil of deadly smoke that ate the soldier's eyes, eyes that looked out on a flat, endless plain as great shaggy beasts plodded by under a broiling sun, as the mighty vessel vanished, spewing gouts of Sabatino everywhere …
“You're coming apart,” Finn cried out in alarm, “you're just-going everywhere!”
Sabatino was gone, lost in a blink. Finn saw him dash through a bright crystal pane, followed him over a flat, endless-
Finn?
FINN?
PLEASE
Help
ME
FINN …!
“Letitia? Letitia Louise!”
“Who do you think,” Julia said, “how many people do you know in this place?”
“Shut up, I'm trying to think.”
“Don't waste your time. It's not allowed here.”
“You don't know, you don't know where here is.”
“Here is where you are. Here is where you're going, here is where you've been.”
“That's all I need, lizard philosophy talk. And what are you doing up there? You're in my pocket with the rest of your parts.”
Julia walked on nothing, upside down. Turning shades of amber, saffron and a horrid tone of green.
“Stop that, you're making me ill.”
“Stop what?”
“Whatever you're doing, don't do it again.”
“Whatever or when? I can't do both at one time.”
FINN …
FINN …
PLEASE,
FINN!
“Letitia, over here!”
“Let's not start that again,” Julia said, wherever she was, wherever she'd been.
“I'm coming,” Finn said, “I'll be right with you, dear …”
Letitia's scream shattered all the crystal panes, splintered every when, shredded every where, and suddenly she was there, or maybe not at all, maybe a vapor or a wisp, and all about her a pale luminescence, a nimbus of light.
Sometimes she flickered and was gone, less than a whisper, less than a fleeting breath of air.
“I can't see you well, love,” Finn said. “I'm not certain that you're there.”
“I might be, I can't really tell. I'm frightened, Finn, I'm really awfully scared.”
“Tell me what to do, tell me where you are.”
“I do love you, Finn.”
“And I love you as well. I'll get you out of there.”
“I don't think so, I don't think you can.”
“Don't say that, listen to me, I will.”
“Finn, something awful's happening, something's happening to me.”
“No, this isn't real, this is an illusion, it's magic, is what it is-”
“It's happening. It's happening inside-it's happening now.”
“Letitia, stop this, please, this kind of talk won't do us any-”
A moan, a wail, a sad lamentation, a grievous sound that rose into a shriek, into a cry of unbearable pain.
Finn stared in horror, in awesome disbelief as something moved in Letitia, something twisted, something seethed. Something crackled, sizzled, and burst into sight.
Finn shrank back, raised an arm against the blistering heat that surged from his love, not his love at all, but the creature she'd become, a grim apparition that wailed, shouted out his name, stared out at nothing with black and fiery eyes.
And, from this dark, charred cremation, this beauty with slender limbs and ashen hair, burst a nightmare from beyond nature's realm, from a place devoid of light. They spilled from her belly, from the fire that burned within, this foul and hungry blight, this hideous plague, lurching blindly all about.
Finn stood frozen in fright. The terrible horde kept coming, but Letitia Louise began to fade, began to waver out of sight, scarcely a shadow now, scarcely a wisp, as the magic of the horrid machine began to steal away her life …
Tears scalded Finn's cheeks as he cursed every dark incantation, every wizard, every witch, every hex and every spell. For magic was his ruination, magic had snatched away the only thing he loved, the being that made him whole, made his life worthwhile. Damned sorcerers and seers, damned-
“Letitia! Letitia Louise!”
It struck him then, like a quake, like a bolt that splits a mighty tree.
“The amulet-the amulet, Letitia! Grab it, hold it, squeeze it in your hand, whatever the hell you do with such a thing!”
She was gone though, vanished, nothing left to see.
“Come back,” he shouted. “None of it's real, it's magic, it's a spell. Ah, I take that back. The amulet part, that's real, all right? The rest of it's a trick, you don't have to go, you don't have to disappear!”
Nothing.
Nothing but the wheres, nothing but the whens.
A shimmer, then a glow, a flicker, a dim and phantom light. He saw her. She was there, lying quietly, curled in a ball, the way she slept at night.
His heart leaped at the sight. She was still very frail, no more substantial than fireflies winking in the night, but what could you expect? The seer's charm was clearly working well, but these things took a while. He'd wait, give it time, not even try to go to her, to hold her, till then …
“I'm afraid this is as good as it gets, craftsman. Bloody rules everywhere, you know.”
“What?” Finn started. Sabatino stood just beyond Letitia, a wraith, a phantom himself, better than a Coldie, but not a great deal.
“What do you mean? She's all right now, she'll be just fine.”
“She will, Finn, but not with you, I fear. We can't come there, you can't come over here.”
“Don't try your tricks on me, I can go anywhere I-”
Not a step, not an inch, no closer than a hair.
Sabatino showed him a wispy smile. “I shall be glad to take care of her, trust me on that. Wherever we are, though I'm not at all certain of that. We're comrades, you know. Brothers in arms.”
“No, we're not. Let her go, Sabatino, she doesn't belong to you!”
“No one belongs to anyone, Finn. We are, in the end, whoever we are. Ourselves all alone. Even a liar and a rogue knows that.”
“Oh, fine. Words of wisdom from a Nucci. I've heard it all now.”
“Sometimes I even surprise myself,” S
abatino said.
He bent then, raising Letitia's limp figure in his arms, both of them sheer, gossamer thin, perfectly clear.
“Put her down,” Finn demanded. “You can't do this, I won't allow it, you hear?”
“I don't know how it happened, I haven't the foggiest, Finn. But I do have the pleasure of besting you, though I can't take credit, I fear. Oh, if you can, I'd advise you to get out of here. I feel this illusion is rather shaky. I doubt it's going to last.”
“Damn you, Sabatino-”
“It could happen, I'll grant you that.”
“Get your hands off me, right now. I can't feel a thing, but if you touch me, you'll wish you were dead, or possibly alive!”
Sabatino's shade looked startled. Letitia began to pound upon his chest, which did little harm to flesh that wasn't there. Still, he looked annoyed, greatly alarmed.
“Is this how you intend to act? Can I expect behavior like this?”
“You haven't seen behavior, you odorous brute. This is just a start.”
Sabatino sighed, walked a few steps across nothing, and laid Letitia gently on the ground.
“All right,” he said, “I lied. She doesn't truly belong over here. Apparently, for some damned reason, I do.”
He backed off, and looked at the two. “Sorry we couldn't have our duel. I was so looking forward to that. You're a miserable person, craftsman, a low-born fellow, no trace of a gentleman about you, nothing proper that I can ferret out …”
Perhaps there was more. Finn was sure the fellow could go for quite a while, but he was gone now, not a trace at all. Finn bent to Letitia to tell her that he loved her, to tell her he was sorry their vacation had not been pleasant so far. Before he could speak, the illusion shattered, and the horrid machine was everywhere, wheezing and chugging, dead Foxers all about.
“You bessst bes comin' with me, getting yourselvesss out of here. Isss bad place to bes …”
“Squeen?” Finn glanced up in surprise. “Where have you been? I assumed you'd perished. I was certain everyone was dead.”
Squeen William showed him a twisted Vampie smile. “Squeen isss not bes dead, sir. Dead is perssssons in here. Squeen is not stupids, Squeen bes staying outssside …”
52
The sea looked grand, a bright, azure blue that mirrored the cloudless sky. The ship, a lean square-rigger, had braved a summer squall the night before. Now she lay in the calm of the harbor, her sails hung out to dry. Her name was Anna Call, rather catchy, Finn thought, the sort of thing you'd call a ship as trim and neat as that.
There was not a single Yowlie in her crew and her captain seemed reasonably sane, or as sane as a captain might be.
Finn had sent Letitia aboard as quickly as he could, anxious to get her far from that misbegotten shore. Julia was with her, patched, mended, somewhat out of sorts until Finn could get her home among his proper tools. Not the beauty she had been, as far as lizards go, but her temper and her tongue seemed perfectly intact.
“I regret you've not seen the best of our land in your stay,” Dr. Nicoretti said. “I fear you'll take a poor impression back home, and encourage others to stay away.”
“With all due respect,” Finn told him, “I doubt I'll discuss my trip at all.”
“Don't guess I can blame you for that. This has been a most upsetting time for everyone, and you and the Newlie, I suppose, have suffered more than most.”
Finn saw no way to respond in a civilized manner, no way at all short of physical assault.
He looked past the doctor, past the wharf itself, empty now, except for a seabird pecking about. The town looked as dismal as ever. Between the sea and the village, there was scarcely anyone around. In a field of dead grass, the Crimson Lancers Volunteers (still with no lances in sight) attempted to form a straight line. Past them, down the dirt road, he imagined he could see a faint smudge, a darkening of the land where the ghastly charred remains of the Nuccis' former home would be.
“I should tell you things before you leave,” Dr. Nicoretti said. “Though you haven't been open with me, I see no reason to sink to your level, there's little honor in that. In truth, I did have some interaction with the Foxers. I told you I didn't, but I did.”
“I suspected as much,” Finn said. “I told you so at the time.”
“Well, I did, and I don't apologize, for I did the right thing.”
“I'm afraid to ask.”
“I merely told them-not long before you came, as a fact-I told them that the Nuccis were responsible for the abduction and murder of many of their kind. Abductions which happened after my sister Ingretta married Calabus and moved into that dreadful house.”
“You told them that,” Finn said, showing the man a wary look, “and you know that for a fact?”
“Not really, no, but I think it's likely so.”
“You think?”
“Yes, I surely do. When you think about it, it makes a lot of sense. Ingretta had friends among the Foxers, below her class, of course. When she came into wealth as the bride of Calabus, she often hired Foxers to work around the house. Retainers, gardeners, house maids and such. Calabus and his father couldn't abide the lot. They cut Ingretta off from everyone. They would not allow her to have any friends, servants or not. That included me, her brother, of course.”
“And you think the Nuccis killed them. That's why the Foxers took their revenge.”
“Oh yes, I'm sure it is.”
“This is why they killed the old man and burned his house down.”
“I believe it is, yes.”
“And why did they wait all these years, Doctor, to get around to that? What took them so long?”
“I can't imagine why.”
“I can,” Finn said. “They didn't know about it till you put the idea in their heads.”
“Ridiculous.” Nicoretti made a face. “Everyone in town knew the Nuccis and the Foxers were at odds. You'll find a lot of folks think the same as me.”
“Rocks and Socks, you think-you believe, but you don't know if any of this is true.”
“It very likely is.”
“But you don't know that. The Nuccis are dead because you guess they maybe did the Foxers in. Sometime. Long ago. Or maybe not. And, a great many Foxers are dead now too.”
Nicoretti muttered under his breath. “You don't mind asking me a lot, but you won't give anything back. You never said what Calabus was up to down there. I've got a right to know that.”
“I don't see you do at all.”
“Damn you, boy-”
“Clocks.”
“What's that?”
“Clocks. Your brother-in-law was making clocks. Small, delicately crafted clocks. Clocks impossibly intricate and fine. Clocks smaller than a mustard seed, smaller than a gnat. Finally, clocks no larger than a mote, a dot, no larger than a speck. This is the obsession that finally drove him mad-or madder than he might have been before. There came a time when he couldn't even see his clocks. He'd breathe and they were gone. Sent him over the edge, poor man.”
Nicoretti looked slightly annoyed. “A bunch of little clocks made all that racket up there, sent awesome tremors through the ground?”
“They were little, sure, but there were a hell of a lot of them, I think I mentioned that.”
Nicoretti showed Finn an arrogant grin, a sly and cunning old man grin, a grin full of old man guile.
“I'll get a straight answer, boy, but it won't come from you. I don't expect manners from one of your kind. Have a nice trip, Master Finn. And give that pretty a feel for me.”
“You'd best quit right there,” Finn said, “while you're barely still ahead …”
At the end of the wharf where the skiff and the loaders and the other small craft came in, Finn found a Bullie and a cart. On the cart was a most familiar chair. Standing by the cart was Master of Chairs, Dalto Frick.
“You bought a chair,” Frick said, “now take it out of here.”
“No thank you,” Finn said, “I don't n
eed a chair.”
“You bought a chair, mister. Why'd you buy it if you don't need a chair?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Have a pleasant day, I've got to run now.”
“Damn tourist,” Frick shouted after Finn. “You don't know the rules here, you don't know the customs of the land!”
“I can't argue with that,” Finn said to no one at all, picked up his pace, and hurried to the skiff.
“It's a beautiful evening,” Letitia said. “I never imagined I'd be so happy to be on a ship again. Still, I hope I never see another after this.”
“You don't feel bad, about missing Antoline Isle?”
“You know better than that,” she said, coming close under his arm, resting her head on his chest. “I don't want to go anywhere but home.”
Finn breathed in the salt air, squinted at a weary amber sun dropping behind a purple cloud.
“I don't know if I can talk about this,” Letitia said, “but if I don't, I'm sure I'll never get a night's sleep again.”
“You know about as much as I. There's little more to tell.”
“There is, too. I don't recall a thing, except getting lost from you and waking up outside with an awful pain in my head.”
“It's just as I told you,” Finn said, looking anywhere but in Letitia's eyes. “The Foxers killed Calabus and set the house afire. I doubt we'll ever truly know why. I'll tell you what Nicoretti said, once I've thought about it some. Sabatino didn't make it either. We talked about that.”
Letitia shuddered, but not from the pleasant night air.
“I don't know why, but I feel sorry for the man. I don't think he could help it, being what he was. I think we all maybe have to be what we are, don't you?”
Finn didn't answer. He didn't care to get into such a thing at the time.
“I think I saw that awful old man standing on the roof. I think he held Calabus in his arms. I think they were both on fire. Could that be, Finn?”
“Why, I guess,” Finn said, “anything could be …”
“Finn, look right at me.” She drew away a bit and searched his eyes. “There's more you've got to tell. Don't try and protect me, dear, that doesn't help at all.”
Finn let out a breath. “No, I guess it doesn't. Someone else perhaps, but not you. Both of us nearly died in there, but not how you think, Letitia. This is hard to fathom, which is why I didn't want to tell you now. I didn't believe in Calabus' Prophecy Machine. I didn't, but things-happened down there. Sabatino didn't die. He left, but he wasn't exactly dead.”
The Prophecy Machine ftlm-1 Page 27
