The Prophecy Machine

40

Finn could only vaguely recall the struggle to escape the thing's grasp. Crawling, gasping for breath, the terrible emanations howled in his head. Sabatino had bragged that he was scarcely bothered by the awful emissions from below. Still, it was Finn who dragged the fellow free, up the dizzy floors, down the crooked halls, until they were far enough away.

Sabatino muttered and thrashed about. Finn would have bound him up again if he'd had a piece of rope. Instead, he cursed Sabatino every step of the way, even the step that found another dead end, one exactly like the rest.

Finn stopped and sank wearily to the ground. Sabatino slept on. Now and then, bubbles appeared at the corners of his mouth. Finn looked away in disgust. Maybe he could leave the lout here. Go back and find Letitia, gather up poor Julia's parts. Come back and find Sabatino again. He wasn't likely going anywhere, not for some time.

“If I had another piece of rope,” Finn said to himself, “one like the one that I don't have now, I could tie one end right here, and find my way back. All right, no rope. I'll have to just-hah, indeed!” Patting desperately at his pockets, he found the small coil of silver wire he'd bought at market. He could use a rope of any sort, but wire, to a craftsman, was a comforting thing to have around.

His legs were shaky. He laid his hands flat against the wall to pull himself erect. Sabatino's candle was gone, but Finn still had a stub. Not much of a light, but better than groping in the dark. Better than-

Finn stopped. A small patch of brightness suddenly appeared. Or maybe it had been there all along, and he simply hadn't seen it from the floor. It was only the size of a half-penny coin, but it was bright, brighter than anything he'd seen in this miserable maze.

“Bright,” Finn said aloud, his heart fairly pounding in his chest, “bright as it can be. Snails and Whales, it's bright as day itself, we've been in here all night, though it doesn't seem that way at all!”

“Whu-huhsa?”

“It's daylight,” Finn laughed. “Daylight, sunlight, I'd forgotten what a marvelous thing it is!”

Sabatino opened his eyes to that. “I told you I'd get us out of this, but you had no faith, you'd given up hope, you wouldn't listen to your comrade in arms. You were too busy thinking about yourself …”

Finn didn't hear him at all. He was pounding on the wall, ripping boards free, letting the harsh, beautiful light into the gloomy room. He could see clouds now, white and pure and clean, see the sunlight blazing on the earth, shining on the sea.

“I'll help in a moment,” Sabatino said. “I seem to have bruised myself a bit. Damn me, Finn, I don't recall this place at all, what are we doing here?”

Finn had a proper hole now, big enough to stick his shoulders through. He was two stories up, maybe three. There was no way to tell in a house such as this, where height had no meaning at all.

He could see one edge of the town, a piece of the winding road. And, directly below, dead trees and yellow weeds.

Now, he could really use that rope, the one he didn't have for Sabatino, the one he meant to use to find his way. Still, they were out, they were free, he could get proper lamps and provisions, go back in for Letitia Louise. And anyone who tried to stop him, anything that got in his way-

Something splintered, and he suddenly felt the wall give way beneath him. Finn grabbed for a hold, tried desperately to stop. Then he was gone, down and on his way without a rope of any kind …