The Prophecy Machine

34

“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 …