by A. D. Folmer
“That’s unexpected,” I said.
“Yes. He wanted to come up here and confront the imposter, but I think I convinced him to stay put.”
“If he comes here, he’ll probably get shot faster than he can say ‘I’m not a monster,’” I said.
“Indeed. He was able to help me make some modifications to my machine. My initial tests have been promising.”
“What sort of modifications?” She just smiled. Ah, mad pseudoscience, another reason to get the hell out of town.
“So, how is your sorting going?”
“It could be better,” I told her. “I have a few rooms cleaned out, and I think I’ve got everything I want, so it won’t be a big loss if I have to toss the rest into a dumpster.” She winced.
“Have you found any more logic problems?”
“No.”
“Could you check before you leave?”
“Sure.”
She wandered back outside. I looked at the stacks of magazines and books. I wasn’t going to have time to go through them all. I started boxing up the magazines for Cecilia.
When she arrived, she wasn’t happy to see me alone.
“You know we haven’t got rid of all the cultists,” she scolded me. “Plus, there’s something weird going on with Cassandra and her machine.”
“Mrs. Whateley might be interested in some of these,” I told her.
“Yes, I heard. In light of our friendship, and because it isn’t my favorite genre, I’m giving her all of Rugged Metropolis. And don’t change the subject. You shouldn’t go anywhere alone until we find the Finch monster.”
“I guess you’re right. Will you escort me back to the hotel then?”
“Sure,” she said, “if you can wait an hour or two. I was just here to check up on Dr. Cassidy before heading to Fiona’s. She said she has something she wants to discuss with me.”
“I can wait,” I told her.
***
Tired of sorting junk, I headed up to the attic. The maps were still laid out on the table. I hadn’t decided what to do with them yet. Giving them to the sheriff’s department seemed like the right thing to do. On the other hand, there might be a local historian or collector who would be interested in them. I examined the top map. It was of the northern half of town, including this and Fiona’s house. There were thick red lines indicating tunnels Obadiah had dug himself, black lines for tunnels his ancestors had created, blue, green, and purple lines for power, water, and gas, and broken black lines for tunnels of unknown origin. I checked carefully and was relieved to see that none of the broken lines came near the house. There weren’t any tunnels shown on Obadiah’s property. I frowned and checked the map more closely. I knew that wasn’t right. When I’d communicated with the specters, I’d seen Obadiah leaving a tunnel and heading straight for his house. I checked the map to see if there were any obvious places for another tunnel to connect to the town’s network. Nothing jumped out at me, unless he’d made a tunnel to Fiona’s house.
With nothing better to do until Cecilia returned I went downstairs, put my coat on, and headed for the backyard. If anything my original impression of the yard being unkempt had been generous. It was overgrown with junipers and blackberries, the mass of greenery getting higher and thicker until thorns formed an impenetrable wall the height of the house. The only clear spot was where Fiona had killed that bone monster with lightning. True to her warning even the plants she hadn’t scorched were withering.
Based on what I’d glimpsed in Obadiah’s memories the tunnel was buried somewhere in the middle of the yard. I took out my amber pendant to help me search. Sparks was still sleeping in my jacket, and the skies were overcast, so there was no bright light to agitate the moths. I swung the pendant lightly as I waded into the junipers. I didn’t know if this would work now. The amber seemed clearer than it had yesterday. I hoped I wasn’t imagining it. Eventually, one side pulled more strongly than any other. That meant at least one of my moths was still viable. I followed the tug and found an opening in the wall of blackberries, kept clear by latticework. Inside I was invisible from the house or the road. In the little clearing with me was a wooden plank with an iron ring in the center of it, lying on the ground. I tugged on the ring and found the plank moved easily. I dragged it to the side to reveal a set of wide, shallow stairs leading down.
I checked my watch. Even if Cecilia came back in an hour, I had plenty of time to explore. I tucked the pendant away and descended into the darkness.
I didn’t have to make my way in the dark for long. There was a light switch even with the top step, and it was in working order. At the base of the stairs, the tunnel widened so much that I could have driven a truck through it. The floor was perfectly even, and the walls were tiled like a subway station. I don’t have a good sense of direction, but it seemed to me that the tunnel was heading away from Fiona’s house. For some reason, this didn’t strike me as a bad sign, and I continued to the other side. It wasn’t a long walk. There was a ramp on this end instead of stairs, and the opening was a regular particleboard door. There was a steel bar lying across it. I lifted it aside and found the door unlocked.
The room on the other side was an unfinished basement. It contained a wood burning stove, a water heater, and not much else. Unlike the tunnel, the room smelled and felt musty. The door leading to the rest of the house was slightly ajar. I climbed the stairs and peeked into the main part of the house.
My first thought was that this was not Fiona’s house. There were no interior walls on the first floor, and the windows were boarded up. In the low light, I could see that the carpet at least was new. There were blankets strewn across the floor, and pizza boxes stacked against the walls. It was only natural for the owner of this house to eat takeout; they had no kitchen. I realized that this was the third house by the cliff, the one I hadn’t been in, and with the owner I hadn’t met.
As I thought that I heard footsteps above me, and I realized I was breaking and entering. I headed back into the basement and towards the tunnel. Before I reached the tunnel door, the basement door was flung open. Against my better judgment, I turned to look at the house’s occupant.
“Mr. Fry is dead,” said a young male voice above me, “so who are you? No, what are you?”
I could have asked the same question. Everything about this person was red. His long disheveled hair, his one visible eye, his horns, the barb on the tip of his tail, and even his skin had a reddish tinge. That’s right, he had horns and a tail. His tail was my most immediate concern. It was long enough to reach across the basement and the barb at the end was uncomfortably close to my face.
“I don’t know what I am,” I told him honestly. “What are you?” The tail pulled back. With the threat of impalement removed for the moment, I took a close look at his face. He had something of the Whateley look about him, but he wasn’t an exact copy like the rest of them. I was barely surprised when he answered me.
“I’m Noah Whateley’s familiar. My name is Legion.” I mentally rolled my eyes at yet another biblical name, and almost missed it when he hopped down a few steps to get closer to me.
“Is Noah Whateley home?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said, surprised. “Noah Whateley is dead, and good riddance. I would never have agreed to be his familiar if I had known how long the old bastard was going to live. Obadiah had been taking care of me, but he is dead now too.”
“So you’re alone in the house?” He nodded. The tail came back.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “I can be quite dangerous.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I said.
“Are you dangerous?” he asked.
“No, unfortunately.”
“Oh.” The tail retreated again. “I thought you felt dangerous.” He jumped down the rest of the stairs. “Ah-ha. I wondered how you got past the spells on the door, but now I see you’re wearing one of Obadiah’s coats.”
“There are spells on the door?” It was news t
o me.
“That’s right,” he said. “Most of the time they keep anyone from getting in or out. I broke through them a few weeks ago, but the Whateleys chased me back in here. That’s okay, I like it here. As long as I get fed I don’t really care if I leave.”
“Which Whateley?”
He shrugged.
“Does it matter to you? They’re all the same to me.” He grabbed my hand. “I do like company though. Come upstairs, and I’ll feed you.”
I found myself being dragged up the stairs, and up another set of stairs onto the second floor. There were walls here, and it was much tidier. He led me into a formal dining room, and I found myself sitting at the head of the table with a plate of cold pizza and a glass of flat soda, with the familiar named Legion staring at me from the other side of the room.
“Thanks for the meal,” I said, at a loss for any other words.
“I don’t know what you are,” he said, “which is odd. I’m well studied on various kinds of supernatural entity. I was a wizard’s familiar after all.”
How nice to know I’d stumped an expert. At least he told me that before I got my hopes up. I’ve always wanted to know what I really am, and where I came from. I make occasional visits back to the Trenton family mausoleum in the hope of finding answers. It’s one of the reasons I gave fishing a second try. Maybe Legion wasn’t as much of an expert as he thought.
“I’ve never had a problem passing for human,” I told him.
“Of course not,” he said dismissively. “If I wore a hat and kept my tail under control so would I. Or any of dozens of humanoid creatures. Bees and ants don’t notice the disguised intruders in their midst either. There’s still a vast difference between an ant and a spider pretending to be an ant.”
“Hmm.” I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I changed the subject.
“What happened to Noah Whateley?” Hey, I didn’t say I changed it to a safe subject.
“He was murdered,” Legion said, “or should I say executed?”
“Executed?” I repeated. Legion leaned on the table.
“He was an evil wizard,” he explained. “A very ancient evil wizard. He founded this town, performed some experiments, and left for a century or so. He said that once his experiment had reached its final stage he wouldn’t need me anymore. Naturally his experimental subjects weren’t terribly thrilled when they discovered his plans for them, and despite his great power he lacked the foresight to see that the same aura that allowed his homunculi to grow and reproduce would also give them the power to resist him.” Legion paused to stuff an entire piece of pizza in his mouth. “Personally I think his real blunder was not taking into account the sort of temperament it takes for a mundane person to travel across the world and make a new life for themselves. The descendants of such people aren’t going to give up their bodies on someone else’s say-so. He’d hatched his plan in a European town that’s barely entered the sixteenth century, let alone the twenty-first. The people living there wouldn’t notice if their neighbors were replaced with look-alikes.”
“Are you suggesting that the Whateleys all look alike because they’re clones?” I asked.
“Something like that,” he said.
“No wonder they don’t like cultists,” I said. And no wonder he’d said all Whateleys were the same to him. “Do they know that?”
“That would be why they killed my master,” Legion said. “Sadly for me, since they are copies, as long as they’re alive all of his spells are still in working order, so the protections he placed on this house to keep me in are still in effect. If they weren’t I imagine, his clones would have tried to kill me as well.”
“Why was Obadiah an exception?” I asked him.
“Obadiah got along with everyone,” Legion said. “Even evil wizards. They struck up a friendship, and Noah Whateley put protection spells on his house in exchange for keeping an eye on me while he was off pursuing other interests. So I made friends with Obadiah myself.” His one visible eye gleamed. “I told Obadiah all about my master’s plans to take over the bodies of his descendants. He wouldn’t let me out of this house afterwards, but I don’t have to obey anyone’s orders now.”
“That’s good for you,” I said. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’s keeping you in pizza and soda now?”
“He still is,” Legion said. “He left me some things in his will. Now that I’ve retrieved them I’m set for as long as I’m stuck in here.”
“His things? You’re the one who broke into Cecilia and Steve’s places, aren’t you?”
“I only broke into the store,” he said. “I couldn’t break into the wizard’s place if I wanted to. That bitch ignored Obadiah’s will and sold things that are rightfully mine, so I took them back.”
“Like his jackets?” I asked. Legion nodded. He was suddenly standing next to me. I couldn’t get used to how quickly he moved.
“You may keep that one,” he said. “I don’t need it.”
“But you do need the red one?” He smiled. His teeth were sharp like a shark’s.
“I like red,” he said. “Perhaps I can let you have the purple one.”
“That’s okay,” I said, “black is enough for me.”
“If you’re sure,” he said. He frowned at me. “You’re so pale it washes you out. I doubt purple would be any better.” He was back at the opposite end of the room. “I have the ones that created coins and gems, and I have contacts who are accustomed to making unconventional currency exchanges with few questions asked. Should you find the method of activation, your coat produces candy coins.” I raised my eyebrows.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Seriously,” he confirmed.
“What kind of frivolous spell is that?”
“I found it delightful,” Legion said. “How long can you stay, by the way?”
“Another half hour,” I said after checking my watch. “I’m expecting company.”
“Are you moving in next door?”
“No, I’m just cleaning out some of Obadiah’s stuff. Do you want any more of it? He has a lot of blankets.”
“No,” Legion said. “I am quite comfortable.” He was beside me again. “Who are you expecting a visit from?”
“The woman whose store you broke into.”
“Hmm.” He sat on the table. “If you vanish she won’t let it go,” he said. “I met her before, and she’s stubborn.”
“That’s right.”
“Promise me you’ll visit again and I’ll let you leave.”
“Of course,” I said. His tail wrapped gently around my neck.
“Don’t just say it to get out of here,” he warned me. “I can leave here if I want to badly enough.” I breathed shallowly.
“I’ll come back,” I promised. “I’ll even bring food if there’s something you like better than cold pizza.” The tail withdrew, to my great relief. He seemed to be thinking.
“A cheeseburger,” he said, “and fried potatoes, either chips or fries will do.”
Now that he’d got me to promise to come back he seemed to be in a hurry to get rid of me. I found myself escorted back to the basement and into the tunnel.
“Don’t forget that you promised,” he said as I closed the door.
“I won’t,” I said. I hesitated before barring the door. If he could come after me, I didn’t want to insult him. I decided to go ahead and bring the bar down on the grounds that Obadiah had, and it hadn’t done him any harm.
I was at the base of the ramp when I recovered from whatever madness had prompted this little adventure. I was suddenly very aware that I was in a tunnel, underground, and that no one I trusted knew where I was. My mouth went dry, and the walls seemed to swim around me. There was a slight bend in the tunnel, and I couldn’t see the stairs on the other side. What if it wasn’t open anymore? What if there were cultists there? I turned and went back to the door.
Legion was understandably surprised to see me again so soon.
�
�I can’t go through the tunnel again by myself,” I told him. “May I use your front door?” He looked surprised and delighted.
“You have a weakness!” He said. “Does this mean you have a superpower too?”
“I see dead people,” I told him, sitting on his living room floor. I felt better in the open room, but it was still dark and enclosed. “Do you have to cover your windows?”
“I suppose not,” he said. “Noah did it. People have been sniffing around here lately, so I haven’t taken them off.”
“People like Whateleys, or cultists?” I asked. It would be just my luck if he was involved with Dr. Finch.
“They didn’t smell like Whateleys,” he said.
“You have a phone right?” He nodded. “A landline?” he nodded again. “May I use it?” He nodded a third time.
“As long as it’s a local call. I don’t have long distance.”
“It is.”
“Are you going to call the witch woman?” He asked.
“Yes. If there are cultists around, I want a ride out of here.”
Cecilia was still at Fiona’s. Neither of them was happy to hear of my little adventure.
“What were you thinking?” Cecilia scolded me. “You’ve been doing so well! You’re lucky there wasn’t a devil or something at the end of that tunnel!” I may have neglected to mention meeting Legion. “I’ll come get you. When I drive up, come straight out and get into the van.”
“She’s bossy, isn’t she?” Legion said.
“You’ve met her?”
“Noah took me to her shop a few times. They talked about herbs. If you’re going out the front door, you’ll have to help me get it open. When I was chased in here, it was nailed shut from the other side.”
Not by anyone who knew what they were doing with a hammer, fortunately. Between the two of us and with the aid of a crowbar we were able to get it open before Cecilia arrived. I was cursing and examining the cuts on my hands from pulling out nails and missed Legion slipping away into the back of the house.