“And we're supposed to swallow that?” Finn shook his head. “No matter, we'll soon be gone, so we'll both be quite satisfied.”
“Excellent!” Sabatino drew back his chair and stood. “If you'll wait in your room, I'll see to the needs of your journey. I'm sorry we'll miss our duel, sir. Life keeps getting in pleasure's way.”
He showed them both a weary smile. “As you might imagine, my father's not taking his—new position too well. Even those who are not old, useless and insane, do not like to yield up authority they have taken for granted so long. But, damn his rotten eyes, he must do as I will it, now.”
“Is he all right, then, he's not—”
Letitia, aghast at what she'd said, and almost said as well, looked down and studied her hands as if she'd discovered an extra finger there.
Sabatino's glacial stare was real; he was not the actor now. “Squeen William, get out here,” he said, without taking his eyes from Letitia Louise, “get out here, you scum, and show these people back to their room …”
Finn, quite aware of the enmity Letitia had aroused, had his fingers on the hilt of his sword until Sabatino was gone, out of the room, through the entryway, and out the front door.
“I bes takin' you upstairsss no. Bes coming with me, pleassse?”
Letitia clasped her hand across her mouth, holding back her sudden fright. Squeen William was a disaster from head to toe, a creature covered with bruises, cuts and sores. Frayed, frazzled, broken and lame, beat-up and maimed. Bandaged in tatters, wrapped in dirty rags, and rather severely impaired.
“Squeen William,” Letitia asked, knowing at once it was a foolish thing to say, “are you all right, can you get up the stairs?”
“Squeen William bes fine, misssy. Isss very kind of you to asssssk …”
“I DON'T KNOW WHAT HE'S UP TO,” FINN SAID, stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head. “It's damned irritating to deal with a fellow who seldom tells the truth. But now and then he does, and I believe he's shut his father up somewhere. I'm not too surprised, understand. The old man's cracked, as nutty as can be.
“I'd like to think there's a true advantage to having us out of here. I feel perhaps there is. For certain, whatever family fortune's left is his. He'll keep the old man locked up, or maybe do him in. Either way, when we're gone, he can do most anything he likes. Who else is going to wander in here? Dr. Nicoretti, I suppose. If Sabatino's wise, he'll keep that fellow well away. He's sly as he can be, I'll tell you that …”
Letitia, standing at the window, turned to face him then.
“You think he'd do that? Murder the old man?” “I can't say, love. I used to think Sabatino was soft in the head as well. Now, I feel he's simply contemptible and vain. An arrogant, self-centered liar, a scoundrel mean at heart, a man who'd stoop to most anything to get his way.”
“I'd say he's all of that.”
Letitia absently ran her fingers over the amulet at her throat. “You're not mad at me, are you? For speaking up like that, giving away our plans?”
“No, and maybe it did some good. That's what you thought and you said it. No one can fault you for that. And you, Julia, I commend you as well.”
Julia, at the foot of the bed, twitched her metal tail.
“What did I do? I hardly said a thing.”
“I know. That's what I'm grateful for.”
“Keep your thanks, then. I can do without.”
Finn stared at the ceiling. What if it sagged a bit more? What if the whole thing came down and crushed them on the spot?
He wanted to believe Sabatino had nearly told the truth this time. He did have a great many things to clear up. For one thing, he could cleanse himself of the sin of hospitality, and earn the town's respect again. And, if he did rid himself of his father, perhaps the Foxers would leave him alone. It was clear in Finn's mind that Calabus was the center of trouble in that long and deadly feud. That if he was gone …
And, another task beyond that: the cellar, and Calabus' obsession, the Prophecy Machine. Sabatino would quickly have it gone. He said it was a fool's device, yet he clearly feared the thing.
What, though, if there was truly something dreadful down there, as the Mycer and the Coldie had implied? Was Calabus responsible for the spell that protected something there from harm? Was it even his doing? Did he even know it was there?
If a thing down there didn't want to be disturbed, Finn thought, didn't wish to go away … Truly, this was an excellent time to leave the Nucci house, and put this dreary land behind.
He sat up abruptly and put his feet on the floor. He decided he must have dozed for a moment, for Letitia was sleeping beside him, her lips half open and her hair in disarray. He got up slowly, careful not to wake her. Julia followed him silently with her eyes.
There was little to see out the window, nothing but a hot and dreary afternoon. Too many hours to wait, too long until they'd be away. Away from the Nuccis, Hooters and Hatters, everyone and everything he never wanted to think about again.
Somehow, they would get free of this land, get a ship across the Misty Sea and back to Garpenny Street where they belonged. And if anyone ever said “vacation” again—
He heard it, then, felt it beneath his boots, felt it when he pressed his hand against the wall. A rumble, a scrape, a deep vibration through the floor, coming from the hall.
Finn went quickly to the door, tried to push it open. It was stuck against something, wouldn't give an inch. He tried once more, put his back and shoulders to the job. Nothing. The sound was gone now, the intense vibrations gone.
“All right, who's out there, what's going on?”
Silence.
A faint, nearly inaudible breath.
“Sabatino, this is not amusing. You will let me out of here now. Damn you, man, I mean what I say. You'll answer for this!”
“Save your breath, Master Finn. You won't be seein' that miserable, traitorous son of mine. Not anyone will, not ever again …”
A chill touched the back of Finn's neck. He stepped back a pace, and stared at the door.
“Calabus? Look, I don't know what's going on with you two, that's no concern of mine. But you must talk to me, understand?”
For a moment, there were footsteps in the hall, and then they were gone. Finn pressed his ear against the door. Listened, strained to hear, but there was no one there at all …
“HE PUT SOMETHING BIG AGAINST THE DOOR. Something extremely large, I can't budge the thing an inch.”
Finn struck his fist against the door until it hurt. “He didn't do it alone, either. He had to have help.”
“Squeen William, you think?”
“Who else? That fellow's incredible. Sabatino nearly crippled the lout, and he's up and going again. Calabus loathes him, yet he's clearly working for him. Apparently, whoever screamed at him last …”
“This is not good, Finn. This is not good at all.”
Letitia stood well across the room, arms crossed, drumming her fingers against her elbow at a fairly rapid pace. Not a promising sign, Finn knew. It was like faraway thunder before a great storm.
“No, it's truly not good, but it's not the end of the world. Calabus has left himself in a very tricky spot. If he tries to keep us here, we'll smash that window and lower ourselves to the ground. I'd start knotting sheets if I were you. On the other hand, if he opens that door, I'll run the fellow through. If it comes to that, I'll take Squeen William as well.”
“Finn—”
“What?”
“Come over here, and look down, please.”
“Why? There's nothing to see.”
Nevertheless, he joined her and peered through the flyencrusted glass.
“I believe that's Squeen William,” he said. “He's sitting in the grass out there. By damn, he's got a weapon, too.”
“I believe he does, dear.” “I think I know what it is. It's a Ponce-Klieterhaus musket. Used by the Hansi Grenadiers. Shoots a fairly decent ball. Why, that relic's fifty
years old.”
“You think he could hit anything?”
“I shouldn't think so. Hard to tell, though.”
“Uh-huh.” Letitia's tapping rapidly increased. “I don't intend to knot a sheet, Finn. I'm willing to listen to another suggestion, but I will not dangle my lovely self out a window to see if a Vampie can shoot me down.”
“He wouldn't act like this if he hadn't been terribly abused.”
“I feel sorry for him, too.”
“Yes, well … Julia, up here on the table, if you will. You've still got a jerky foot from that run-in with Squeen and his broom. We may have to move quickly quite soon.”
Letitia sighed. “Do we have time for this? Don't you have other things to do?”
“Whatever we do, I think we should all be in good shape to do it. Stop moving around, Julia, we're not back in the shop. If I break something here, you're scrap.”
“Anyone ever tell you you have a horrid bedside manner, Finn?”
“Anyone ever tell you I'm not a physician, and you're not a patient? What you are, if you don't lie still, is a useless collection of cogs and gears. Gold, copper and tin that would make a nice watch with enough left over for the bin.”
“No wonder you're not a doctor. Who in their right mind would reeerk!”
Julia gave a tremble and a jerk, opened her snout and went stiff as a lizard can be.
“There now, that's better. Let's see what we can see.” Finn slipped a fingernail beneath a certain scale, gave it a tap that only Finn knew. A panel swung open in Julia's tin belly, a panel that revealed a great wonder, a sight to confound the keenest eye. Here was a world that moved in a whisper, in a click, in a blur. Muscles of nickel, sinews of brass, nine tiny hearts made of mercury and gold. Nerves fine as gnat's hair spun from cinnabar and pearl.
Finn fairly shuddered at the thought of that crazed old man poking grubby fingers in Julia's tiny parts. Why, a mote of dust alone from this sty was enough to spoil the crudest device—what havoc it could wreak on Julia Jessica Slagg!
A touch here, a nudge there, with a needle fine as any ever made, a tool Finn always pinned to the collar of his coat. One more twist and he was done.
Julia's belly closed with a snap. Finn turned her over, and watched her ruby eyes glow, watched her snout clamp shut.
“How's the leg now? Give it a shake and let's see.”
Julia dutifully shook. The leg seemed perfectly fine.
“I think I had a dream,” Julia said.
“That's what you always say. I strongly doubt that.”
“Doubt if you will. Why would I remember something if it wasn't truly there?”
“Maybe you did. I don't want to hear it, whatever it is.”
“Are you two done over there? Could you possibly spare the time for something else, like getting us out of here?”
Finn knew that when Letitia's voice reached a certain pitch, one should consider an intelligent reply.
“Is Squeen still spooking about below? Can you see him from there?”
“Where would he go, Finn?”
“I'm working on a plan. I truly need to know.”
“What kind of plan?”
“It's not in the talking stage now. As soon as it is I'll let you know.”
Julia made a lizardy sound in her throat. “She's not buying that, Finn.”
“Don't talk, please. I'm trying to think.”
“You could ask me, you know.”
“What?”
“I said—”
“I heard that, Julia. Ask you what?”
“How to get us out of here.”
“If I do, will you shut up for a while?”
Julia didn't answer. The light went out in her eyes.
“All right. I'm sorry. If you really have something to say, don't keep it to yourself.”
“You haven't asked.”
“I'm asking now.”
“I'm not overly certain, but I think we can get out the same way I got out before.”
Finn was listening now. “Don't play games with me, there's no time for that.”
“You're talking about when Calabus was up here, right?”
Letitia was across the room before Julia could get the words out. “When you went looking for Finn?”
“Certainly. If there was another time I left, I don't recall. I didn't slip out the door, as you perhaps imagined, I was gone before the old man came in. I got out over there.”
Finn and Letitia turned in the direction of Julia's nod. Neither saw anything but a wall. Both looked back at the lizard. Finn was certain Julia smiled, though he knew for a fact she didn't have the parts for that.
“Patience,” Julia said, “and all will be revealed.”
Sliding off the table, she scampered across the floor. At the wall she stopped, hesitated, moved her snout an inch to the right, then another to the left.
Finn glanced away for an instant, looked back again. When he did, Julia was gone.
“Finn … !”
Letitia squeezed his hand. Finn went quickly to his knees. He rubbed his fingers across the ancient wood where it met the grimy floor. Nothing. No cracks or seams. Nothing to suggest a secret panel or a hidden entryway. Yet, short of sheer magic, Julia couldn't simply disappear. There was something here, something that plain confused the eye. Something he—
“Well then, what do you think? Is that not a fine deceit or what?”
Julia's appearance brought a gasp from Letitia, and a muttered oath from Finn. The lizard's red eyes blinked from a narrow hole. A veil of cobwebs hid her snout, and her scales were coated with dust.
“It was no illusion,” Julia said, “it's architectural folly's what it is, a madman's dream, a builder gone berserk. Rooms don't begin where another room ends. They stop short, leaving dark canyons in between. Roofs come through the ceiling and up through the floor. Some doors open on walls. Some doors open on doors. Corridors begin and go nowhere at all.”
Julia tended to irritate Finn with her frequent rattling on. This time he truly didn't mind. This time her chatter gave him hope, a new chance to leave this wretched place behind.
“And all these chambers, passages and such, they lead outdoors, they take you out of here, and it's safe all the way?”
“Safe enough,” Julia said, “if you don't meet a Vampie with a broom somewhere.”
“Don't worry,” Letitia said, “he's only got a musket now.”
“That's not our problem anymore,” Finn said. “If you please, grab a handful of those smelly candles, dear.”
He turned back to Julia. “That hole looks fine for lizards. I guess I'll have to widen it a bit.”
“No problem but have a care when you do. One wrong move and you'll bring the house down. Oh, neither of you care for creatures of the insect persuasion, I recall? Lice, beetles, spiders and flies? Mites, millipedes, bugs of every sort?”
Finn looked at Letitia, Letitia looked at Finn.
“Anything bites, don't scratch,” Julia said. “That's what you get for not wearing tin …”
EVEN AS JULIA SAID, IT WAS NO GREAT EFFORT TO make the very small hole large. She was also right about bringing the whole wall down upon his head.
“I would say I told you so,” Julia croaked, and rattled off into the dark, “but I'm fairly sure I did.”
“I am grateful for your help,” Finn said, wheezing, gasping through a cloud of dirt, rot and old debris. “I don't know what I'd do without your good advice.”
Letitia appeared through the gloom, holding a candle high, a pale and dusty apparition with wide and anxious eyes.
“I don't care for this, Finn. I'm not sure it's a good idea.”
“We haven't even started, dear. I don't think we should judge it quite yet.”
“I've started. I've started to itch. I don't like it in here.”
“I don't either, but I don't see anything for us back there.”
Letitia didn't answer. She followed Julia, whose lizard eyes could pe
netrate the dark far better than any human or Newlie born.
As Julia had warned, insect life of every sort abounded in the maze behind the walls. It was heaven for spiders, a termite delight. There were bugs that crawled and flew, bugs that liked to bite, bugs Finn couldn't even name.
Once, ducking wooden beams, bending nearly to the floor, Letitia cried out, stood and cracked her head. The candle flew away and rolled across the floor, the wick still lit. Finn crawled across to get it, stopped in his tracks. The dusty floor was teeming with roaches. A swarm of thousands of the ugly, writhing creatures, frantically running from the light that intruded on their dark, unwholesome world.
They moved like the undulations of the sea, wave after wave, one mass scrambling atop the next, another and another after that. Worst of all, the thing that made Finn's skin begin to crawl, was the color of the things. Neither brown nor black, like their ordinary kin, this dreadful mass was deathly white. Pale, swollen, disturbingly fat.
“Here's your candle,” Finn said. “You ask me, that was not a pretty sight. If you'd like, I'll trade places and carry the light awhile.”
“So something can find me in the dark? No thanks, Finn. You're not getting away with that.”
Before he could answer, she turned away again. Finn let her go. This was clearly not the time to speak of anything at all.
It all made a certain kind of sense, Finn thought. The outside of the house set the theme: every room, every hall he'd seen, was cockeyed, leaning, listing left or right. Why shouldn't the spaces in between be as peculiar as the rest?
Sometimes Julia took them ways so narrow that Finn could scarcely squeeze through. Sometimes they climbed, sometimes they crawled between floors. Once, Finn pulled his way hand over hand, under a set of stairs. When he reached the bottom, a section of roofing blocked his way. When there was finally room to pass Letitia, he brushed a mess of cobwebs aside and told Julia to stop.
Letitia looked alarmed. “Where are you going? Is something wrong, Finn?”
“Not a thing. I'm going up to see Julia.”
“Don't, please. Stay right here.”
Finn reached out and touched her. “You feel rather cold. Are you all right?”
The Prophecy Machine (Investments) Page 21