The Prophecy Machine (Investments) (12 page)

“Name two. Name another who would do the same.”

“Teklo Amakin, he'd do it,” Finn said, slightly irritated at the need to pursue this.

“What?” Letitia did her best not to laugh, but a slight burst escaped all the same.

“I'm glad you're amused.”

“I'm sorry, but Teklo the Toother? This is the Teklo we're talking about?”

“I don't know any other Teklos. It is not a common name.”

“He took out your tooth.”

“He took out the
wrong
tooth. That is a different matter than simply taking out a tooth. I refused to give him a pence. He's never forgotten that.”

“Really, Finn …”

“No, not
really Finn
—the man puts on a kindly face, but he's full of bile. They're all like that, it goes with the toothing trade. Some are simply more vicious than the rest.”

“All right.”

“And that means what?”

“It means I'm sorry to have to say it, but I think you're overly tired. I feel you need some rest.”

“You feel I'm raving, possibly out of my head.”

“Don't be like that. I just don't think you're right.”

“So I see.”

“We don't need to argue about it. We simply have different opinions.”

“Yes.
Quite
different, I'd say.”

Finn stood abruptly, went to the darkened window and peered out at the night. If anything was there, he failed to see it. The window was so coated with years of grime, it could easily have hidden a horde of Hooters dancing naked on the lawn.

“I didn't say there
wasn't
a curse over you, Finn. I never said that.”

“You said I was overly tired. It's the polite way of saying I have a disorder of the mind.”

“Stop this. Please.”

“All right. It's stopped.”

“Your tone of voice says it isn't. I'm hungry, Finn. Do you think we could talk about this some other time? I'd rather not faint on this floor, which hasn't been cleaned in several years.”

Finn went to her at once. “I've been thoughtless, Letitia. I shall insist they bring you some soup. Soup or a stimulating broth. Broth is very good for the vapors, I understand.”

“
Solid
food is what's good for an empty tummy. I certainly don't need any soup or any—stimulating broth. What I'd really like is—”

“—nothing you'll get in this cesspool, I promise you that.”

“What?” Finn looked at Julia perched on a hardback chair. “And how would you know? I've warned you not to jabber, have I not? Most especially when you've no idea what you're talking about.”

“You have indeed. But if I'm wrong about the menu here, you may strike me with a rock. Further, I'm sure Letitia is right. It is most unlikely you're under a spell. The Fates don't
have
to drop dung in your lap. Dung happens. It can strike anyone at any time. This time it's you.”

“Fine, that's it.” Finn threw up his hands, then let them collapse at his sides. “I'm assaulted by my own dear wife on one side, and a—a pile of scrap on the other. I'm out of sorts, mentally impaired, and oh—overly tired.”

“Don't do this, dear …”

“I won't. Don't worry. From here on, I'll keep my insane thoughts to myself.”

“Imagine,” said Julia Jessica Slagg, “I lived to see that.”

“No, that's not entirely correct.” Finn whirled about to face the lizard. “You talk, you slither about, you even have a
ferret's brain inside your tin head. Whether you are actually
alive
is another matter.”

“That's not a nice thing to say,” Letitia said.

Finn gave her a cutting smile. “What do you want me to do, apologize to a bag of gears and wires? All right, I'm sorry, Julia. You think you're alive? Fine. You're alive and I'm overwrought. Dung happens. Sticks and Bricks, I've got to take a nap.”

“It's all right. I'm used to abuse. That's my mission in life.”

“Apparently, it's mine as well.”

“Poor you,” Letitia said. “Poor both of you. And I'm still hungry, does anyone care about that?”

Julia blinked her ruby eyes. “We have company. It's that ugly thing with hair.”

“I don't hear a thing,” Finn said.

Someone rapped lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Letitia said, “it's not locked.”

“How could it be?” Julia said, “It's scarcely a door.”

Letitia had seen Squeen only moments before, but the sight of him startled her all over again.

“Ssssssir and lady. Dinner isss be ssserving, if you pleassse …”

“Thank you,” Finn said, “but we're very tired, and we'd rather eat up here, if it's no trouble for you.”

“Issss no bees trouble, sssir.”

“Good, good. My apologies to our host.”

“Issss no bees trouble for Ssssqueen, but massster sssays no.”

“No? He won't let us eat, is that what you're telling me?”

“Eatsss isss fine. Masster sssayin' you bees comin' down. Issss bad mannersss, Masster Sssabatino sssays …”

“Damned if he does. That's outrageous. We simply won't put up with that.”

“Massster ssayin' you bees bringin' lizard perssson, too.”

“Listen, now—”

Squeen was gone. The door closed again. Or, as well as it ever did.

“Blast the fellow. He goes too far with me.”

“I'm hungry, dear.”

“Me too,” Julia said. “And some say I'm not even alive. Now is that a puzzler or what?”

“Finn …”

“Yes, my dear?”

“I hate to mention this, but since you haven't noticed, I'd better tell you now. We didn't get here with our satchel. I suppose we lost it in our flight. I fear we have no change of clothes, no brushes, no lotions of any sort.”

“Damn me,” Finn said, “I hate to hear that.”

“And what I said before? How I didn't feel any of this was your fault?”

“Yes, and I appreciate that.”

“I'd like to take some of that back. I don't have a thing to wear, Finn, except the same dirty dress. If you don't mind, I'd like to say I blame you for that …”

W
ITH GREAT RELUCTANCE
, F
INN USHERED LETI
-tia down the stairs, hoping the shaky apparatus would hold. Julia, perched on Finn's shoulder, pondered the question that was ever on her brass and ferret mind:

Who am I? Or is it maybe what? And does it really matter? If I think I'm here, I am. Unless, of course, I simply think I think I am, and actually I'm not.

“Quit fidgeting,” Finn said, “What's the matter with you?”

“I believe I'm thinking, is all.”

“Well, don't.”

Finn had hoped that, somehow, things would look entirely different than they had when he'd first come in. If anything, everything was worse. Now, lit with foul-smelling tallows, every spot, stain, rip, tear and snag, every marred, scratched, dust-covered surface, every table, every curtain, every chair displayed its imperfections for everyone to see, like an unattended corpse, like a garbage museum.

Worse still, the dining room table was set with a hodgepodge of dishes, glasses, saucers and bowls; everything broken, everything cracked. Knives without handles, forks without tines, and, Finn was certain, no two of anything alike.

“They
could
have dusted the table and the chairs,” Letitia whispered in his ear.

“They could have burned the place down,” he whispered back, “but unfortunately it's here.”

“Aha, I heard that,” Sabatino said, appearing from somewhere in shadow wagging a finger in Master Finn's face. “It's hard to get help here, which I shouldn't have to say, since you've seen our lovely town. Those who aren't Hooters or Hatters are scared out of their wits, or feeble in the head. All of the
natural
servants—no offense, miss— don't seem to like the place. You can't get a Newlie near.”

“How odd,” Letitia said, forcing her very best smile, “how very odd indeed.”

“At any rate, we've got Squeen William, and he keeps everything as tidy as he can. Don't you, good Squeen? Damn your bloody hide, where are you hiding now? Oh, sit, please, anywhere you like. Except that chair, my dear, I fear its legs are partially impaired.”

Letitia moved down a seat, finding the next one not much better than the first. Finn tried in vain to find any tableware in one piece. His cup had no handle. His plate had been broken and glued together again. Not very well, either, since all three pieces were from three different sets.

“I think you'll enjoy the wine,” Sabatino said. “I have a little garden out back, and I make the stuff myself.”

“Oh, really?” Finn took a sip and nearly gagged.

“Interesting, is it not? Nobody makes proper use of turnips anymore. They could if they tried, they're not hard to grow.”

“No. I suppose not.”

Finn set his glass aside. He tried to look at Sabatino, fixing his gaze half a foot above his head. The man had, in his own peculiar way, changed into dinner clothes. Jacket, vest, hat, shirt and pantaloons. A frothy amount of epaulets, lace, flowing sash and tie. Medals you could buy at the fair. The colors, ranging from the top: purple, puce, russet and rose. Crimson, pink, lavender and gold. Lemon, lilac and aquamarine.

“No green,” Finn said, almost to himself.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You don't care for green.”

“Can't stand it. Absolutely loathe it.” Sabatino sniffed. “Fine for nature, though. Looks quite good on a tree.”

“Do you mind, sir,” Letitia asked, carefully leaning forward in her chair, “if I ask a question? I mean, if you please.”

Sabatino's eyes flashed, his interests mirrored there in greasy candlelight. “Anything, my dear. Whatever comes to mind.”

Finn allowed him a deadly look, which Sabatino chose not to see. Letitia held her question while Squeen limped in with a ghastly, transparent soup, and a great, faded silver fish with glazed, astonished eyes; a fish still startled, still stunned by the stroke of bad luck that had clearly ruined its day.

“I do not wish to pry,” Letitia said, staring in wonder at something in her soup, “I see you are a man of position and wealth with everything a person could desire. May I dare inquire just what it is you do?”

“Why, of course you may,” Sabatino said, leaning back with a hearty laugh, a wink and half a leer. “As it happens, I don't do anything, miss. I travel at times, as you know. But mostly I stay right here—as you so graciously pointed out—in the comfort of my lovely home.”

“Yes, how nice.” Letitia gazed at her soup again, certain now that something in there moved. “Still, I would say you
stay quite busy, what with violence and rebellion all about. I don't know if I could live in a land so sorely torn by strife.”

“Strife, miss?” Sabatino looked puzzled, slightly annoyed, as if Letitia had committed some minor offense. “I'm guessing, now, you're referring to the spiritual life practiced here. I should hardly call what you witnessed today strife.”

Finn set down a broken spoon.
“Spiritual life?
I'm sure I didn't hear you right.”

“Why, you did, for a fact. We practice liturgy, ceremony, varied sacred rites. All of which are, I believe, common to religious institutions everywhere.”

“Not everywhere,” Letitia said.

“Oh?” Sabatino folded his hands beneath his chin. “So you are saying, I believe, that religion in your land is superior to that practiced in mine?”

“Ah, no, not at all, sir.” Letitia looked to one of the many heavens for help. “Some are less aggressive in nature, I have to say that. Not so much slaughter, torture, moaning and such. That sort of thing.”

Sabatino waved her words away. “Lame, insipid—boring, you mean.”

“Some of us like it that way.”

“Yes, I'm sure you do. And if you don't mind, may we set this subject aside? Our ways are best. Yours are clearly not. Let's talk about you, Master Finn. And you too, of course,” Sabatino added with a sly, deliberate glance at Letitia Louise. “And that marvelous creation of yours. The, uh—what? The grizzard, yes?”

“Lizard, I believe.”

“Yes, whatever. What did you say it did, now? Except speak, of course, and give a good showing of itself in a fight. Aside from that, what exactly is it
for
?”

“No, a moment, please …” Letitia daintily dabbed her
lips with the tip of her finger, as there were no napkins of any sort.

“I don't mean to be rude, but I have just gone through the most terrifying day of my life, and you have dismissed all that as no great incident at all. We nearly lost our lives during one of your
sacred rites
, and I am damned—I beg your pardon, I do not ordinarily use foul language, as Finn will testify—but I am damned if I can understand what happened out there. Your father came very close to torture and death, and yet you
condone
this sort of thing? Why? It makes no sense to me.”

“No reason why it should, lady, no earthly reason at all …”

Letitia turned to see Sabatino's father stumbling down the stairway and into the dining hall. Two steps left, and then another right where he knocked a vase of very dead flowers to the floor.

Sabatino's features froze into a mask. “I think you would be more comfortable in your rooms, Father. You've had a trying day. I shall send Squeen William up with soup and fish.”