The Prophecy Machine (Investments) (31 page)

“Come over, Finn. Don't look, don't think. Do it right now.”

Finn took a breath, let it out and held it again. He walked across the narrow stretch of timber, his back pressed to the wall. Halfway there it hit him. It didn't help to hold his breath, it was too strong for that.

He gagged, feeling the bile rise up in his throat, feeling the undulations in his bones, in his muscle, in his flesh. His stomach heaved. The nausea nearly brought him down. He felt as if his head might swell up and split.

“As I said, take it easy. Don't panic. Which is exactly what you did.”

“Stones and Bones, Julia, what in all hell was that? Letitia, where did she—”

“I've lost her. I don't know where she is, but I know what's making you sick. As I said, the emanations from that machine have always been evident in the house, but they're awfully strong here. We're very close to it. By my reckoning, we shouldn't be, but we are.”

“And that's what's causing the smell?”

“What? Oh no, that's excreta, waste and flux. Dribble, sweat, foul urination and such. And, if I'm not mistaken, Squeen William's cooking lunch. Don't be concerned about that, it's the throbbing and the pulse, the rumble and drumming and the thrum, that's what'll bring you down.”

Finn was scarcely listening at all. The back of his neck still tingled, and he couldn't make it stop.

“When we were down there … that thing had a strong effect on Letitia. I should never have taken her there.”

“I have to tell you, Finn. If we get any closer, I doubt you can stay in a conscious state for long.”

Finn shook his head. “I have to. I've got to find her and get her out of here.”

“What good will it do if you're stricken by this—wave, this radiation, whatever it may be? It's better if I go on, discover where she is.”

“Forget it. We're wasting time here. If I have to throw up, I'll do it on the way …”

J
ULIA SAID THEY WERE GOING UP. IT FELT LIKE
down to Finn. With the myriad of slants, angles, skews and deviations, zigs, zags, corners and bends, it was nearly impossible to tell. Once, Finn came upon a window. A window with glass, a window with panes, nailed to the floor. What was it doing there? On the other hand, why not, in a place like this?

He wondered, again, if Calabus knew they were gone. What would he do if he did? Maybe send the Vampie in. Squeen would feel at home in a place like this. What had the old man done to Sabatino? Locked him up, done him in? Would he go that far with his very own son? Unthinkable, of course. Unless you were a Nucci. All bets were off then …

Finn cursed as a stream of hot tallow stung his fingers. He almost dropped the candle, but caught it as it nearly went out. It was getting short now. What would he do when it was gone? Hang on to Julia's tail while she led him around in the dark?

The pulse, the throb, the dark emanations were stronger
than ever now. Finn tried to picture Letitia, picture her eyes, picture her face, picture her safe. Sometimes he could see her, sometimes she wasn't there.

He wiped the sweat off his face, shook his head to keep it clear. The force was like a great and hungry magnet drawing him in, pulling him ever tighter in its grasp. He felt it was tugging at his flesh, bending, cracking his bones, and the thought struck terror in his heart.

Once, when he could shake his mind clear, he wondered if the thing down below was the only force that drew him in. Or was the strong magic a part of that power as well? Or, suppose the two were one? He tried to hold the thought, but it flicked off in the ether and was gone …

“Finn … Finn?”

Finn looked up, suddenly aware that he was down on the floor retching between his knees. There was nothing there, but his stomach didn't care.

“You find her … you—got Leti—Letitia now … ?”

“No, Finn. I only know she went this way. We can't go any further. I have to get you out of here.”

“Letitia …”

“I'll come back. I'll find her. I promise you that.”

“Need some—candles,” Finn muttered to himself, almost certain he knew what a candle was for, fighting to keep his vision clear.

“Candles are good,” Julia said. “Come on now, stay close to me …”

He could scarcely see now, the very air seemed to warp, seemed to buckle, seemed to blur. The world without was false, distorted, anything but real. The world within his head was even worse than that …

Something moved, something bent, something twisted out of shape, and, even from Finn's disordered view, he knew that it shouldn't be there …

“Julia … ?”

“I saw it too. Just for an instant. It isn't Letitia, though.”

“What else—is in here?”

Julia didn't answer. Finn touched her scaly back, stumbled, and got up again.

“I can't help you much,” Julia said. “Whatever this power is, it's not good for lizard machines. Things are happening inside I've never felt before.”

“Me … me too.”

The shimmering walls, the convoluted floor, seemed to beat like a monstrous heart. Finn ducked into a wind he couldn't see, heard a deep and dreadful howl. And there was the thing again, a phantom, a wisp, an involution of the air. He wondered if Julia saw it too. Wanted to ask, but didn't know how.

“We're terribly close to it now,” Julia said, from a million miles away, “the device, it's expanded somehow, spread from the cellar up into the house …”

I should have guessed
, Finn said, or maybe thought aloud,
… should have known that … it was growing when we saw it … why should it stop, confine itself there?

“We can't go this way,” Julia said, “We have to go back, get through somewhere else.”

Where? There isn't anywhere but here …

He didn't see it this time, didn't see a shadow, didn't see it dark-dark-dark against the wall. This time, it came up from behind, silent and swift, and he smelled its fetid odor, smelled its deathly breath, turned too late, as it picked him up and threw him hard against the wall.

Finn hit, struck a rotten beam and tumbled to the floor. The creature was on him then, pounding with its fists, beating his head against the floor. Finn couldn't see it, but knew it was strong, knew it smelled awful, knew there was nothing he could do but try to stay alive. And that wouldn't work, not for too long. This growling, odorous brute had mutilation in mind, and possibly worse than that.

The creature shrieked and loosed its grip. Finn clawed at the floor, trying to get away. He heard a familiar
claaaank!
,and knew that Julia had bitten the fellow hard, winced, an instant after that, as Julia hit the floor with a ruinous crunch of copper, a shattering of tin.

“Hold on,” Finn shouted, “I'm coming, whatever's broken, it's something I can fix!”

With a roar, with a breath that would gag any good-sized town, the creature grabbed Finn, tossed him over its shoulder, and stomped away in the dark.

Finally, his captor stopped, opened a door, and stepped inside. It paused there a moment, then dumped Finn roughly to the floor.

Finn was aware of dim candlelight. He groaned, rolled on his back, looked up and saw the creature standing there. Finn began to yell and couldn't stop. The brute wasn't nearly as big as he'd thought, but he'd seen it before, seen the crazed eyes, seen the tangled beard, the dirty hair. Seen it kicking, flailing and screaming outside his own room.

The brute frowned, spat on the floor. It muttered to itself, found a tangled cord, left Finn bound for market then it stomped out the door.

Finn took a breath. For the moment, he was apparently alive. And one thing more: the dreadful sounds were nearly gone. He could scarcely feel them in here!

“Well, this is just fine, I've got company now. Damn you, Finn, how did
you
get here?”

Finn turned, startled. Sabatino was leaning against a far wall bound in much the same manner as Finn himself.

“What—what are
you
doing here?”

Sabatino rolled his eyes in disgust. “I believe I asked you first, craftsman. I'm here because that insane father of mine got free and put me here. It's fairly clear he got you as well. How's Miss Letitia? I hope she fared better than you.”

Finn took a breath. “Who is that—that disgusting creature?
Kites and Mites, I never smelled anything worse in my life!”

“There you go,” Sabatino said, “insulting the Nuccis again. That disgusting creature is dear Grandfather, the other madman in the clan …”

F
OR A MOMENT, FINN SIMPLY STARED. HE TRIED
to think of something to say. Nothing seemed proper, nothing seemed to fit.

“And he just, ah, runs around loose, I assume.”

“He's not supposed to, but he does. Would you like to try and stop something like that?”

“It seems to me, no offense, but it's awfully hard to keep you fellows penned for long. The Nuccis are good at getting loose.”

Sabatino made a face. “Sometimes we are. I thought I had Father locked up, but he's clearly out howling as well. I expect Squeen William had a hand in that. Master Finn—would you be kind enough to tell me if I still have arms and legs? I can't feel a thing.”

“They're still there,” Finn assured him, and realized his own limbs were growing numb as well.

“What's your—grandfather plan to do with us? Do you know? Has this ever happened before? Rooks and Books, what'll he do if he catches Letitia? If he tries to harm her, by damn, he'll answer to me!”

Sabatino's look said he thought this was clearly absurd.

“There's no way to tell what he'll do. He's never tried to finish us off before, but I wouldn't count on that.”

Sabatino paused. “This is family, and none of your concern, Finn, but I suppose you're a part of this calamity now. My father didn't build that infernal machine. Grandfather did. It drove him mad, of course, but not before he passed his obsession along to his son. I grew up with this aberration, but learned quite early to stay away from the thing. I'm not insane, in spite of what you think. I'm a bit off-center, granted, but nothing like those two, you have to see that.”

Finn wasn't certain this was true.

“Your father and the, uh —your grandfather, they're in this together, then?”

“Of course not. They loathe each other. I doubt Grandfather knows who we are. Whoever fed him last—that's all the poor devil knows. That's how his mind works, whatever bit that's left.”

Oh, Letitia, I'm sorry I got you into this … I'll find you, love, wherever you are … and Julia, I'll make you right, if I have to start all over again …

“The Prophecy Machine. There's nothing to it, then. It's just a—a machine.”

Sabatino yawned. “What do you think, Mr. Inventor? You saw the holy gibberish the thing spits out.”

“I saw a lot down there, and gibberish doesn't explain it all.”

“Think what you like, I'm sure I don't care.”

“This is monstrous,” Finn said, “he has to let us go. He has no right to treat us this way.”

Clearly, Sabatino didn't care to talk. He was huddled in the darkest part of the room. By scooting his shoulders about, Finn could see further past the gloom. What he'd taken for stains and damage of the years was clearly
something else. There were squares and bits of metal, scraps of every kind. Hundreds of them placed in some fearsome array, some strange disorder that only a madman could see. Copper coated green, sheets of dull tin, iron turned a rusty red. Scrap, Finn supposed, salvaged from the machine. And he knew, suddenly, why they were there. They blocked out the power, made this hideaway a refuge from the thing down below …

Sabatino's features curled into a sly and cunning smile. “You see it, do you? The old man's mad, all right, but he knows how to get a night's sleep.”

“You're not telling me everything, Sabatino. There's a great deal more, I'm certain of that. I don't think you can truly help yourself. I doubt you could make it through one complete sentence without a lie. It might be full of truth, but you'd find a hole, an empty spot to tuck in a sham somewhere.”

“I'm greatly offended, sir, crushed, as it were. Your opinion is
so
important to me. Do you mind if I nap?”