The professor turned to Roberta. "The poor boy was never particularly adept at composition, was he? His prose was always a touch overblown for my taste."
This aside seemed to tip Edgar over the edge, and he advanced, screaming at us. "An ancient power grows stronger by the minute, and you can do nothing to stop it," he spat. "Soon, it will consume every soul in the city, and after that, the entire world!"
"If you say so," murmured the professor.
All the time they were arguing, the machine's hum had been growing louder, and now the sound of it was beating at our ears. Darkness was spreading from the spinning crystal heart of the huge device, and I felt an unnatural chill in the air.
"They're coming!" shouted Edgar. "And before they feast on the rest of the planet, they will take your souls. I will seal you into this building and watch your doom, for that is my revenge!"
I'd slipped my hand into my pocket during this outburst, and now I withdrew the gun. Edgar saw it, and froze. Roberta frowned at it, and then at me. And the professor merely stared. "Good heavens!" he said.
"Oh, so that's where it got to," said Edgar, quite unconcerned. "I sought to retrieve it the other night, but you seem to have beaten me to it."
I pointed the gun at him. "Turn off that machine."
"No."
Frowning, I raised the gun, aiming directly at his head. "I said to switch if off."
"And I said no no no," replied Edgar, in a chirpy, sing-song voice.
"Septimus, you can't shoot him," muttered Roberta.
"But we must stop that thing!" I cried, nodding towards the machine. Already I could see the shadowy, indistinct forms that were struggling to emerge, and I knew that before too long we would be overrun. I was tempted to empty the revolver at it, but I was not sure I could hit anything at that distance, and I certainly wasn't going to approach any closer. In any case, the machine had already stored a vast amount of power, and who knew what kind of explosion I might unleash?
"Look out!" cried Roberta suddenly.
I spun around and saw a spirit coming straight for me, its blank eyes fixed on my face, and its hands outstretched as though it were going to strangle me. Then I heard the professor's warning cry, and when I turned again I saw half a dozen spirits coming towards the three of us. The professor raised his weapon, ready to fight, but then the phantasms slowed their progress towards us, until they were circling us without drawing closer. Now and then, one would make a move towards us, only to recoil.
"It's that foul fish-guts potion of yours!" cried Roberta. "It's working!"
I heard an angry howl, and turned to see Edgar practically gnashing his teeth. He looked like a spoiled little boy refused a treat, stamping one foot and shaking his fist at us. The transformation from the cool, collected Sykes was all but complete, and I wondered how the man had held himself together in my presence. I guessed that meeting the professor and Roberta had shaken his mind loose, and he was now little more than a raving lunatic.
Then the spirits ceased circling us, and instead headed directly for Edgar. He took one look at their long-dead faces and clawed hands and fled. Moments later, we heard a solid thump as the outer door closed, followed by the troubling sound of a bolt shooting home. Edgar had departed, but he'd also trapped us with the active machine and the hungry spirits.
"Never have I been so fond of rotten fish," muttered Roberta.
"Such a fool of a boy," muttered the professor. "Now, let us stop this machine and leave this place."
"Yes, but how?" demanded Roberta. "I would need a mallet the size of a coal shed to smash this machine."
"I could try shooting the crystal," I suggested.
"Do not even think of it," warned the professor. "There will be no destroying or shooting or smashing of any kind until I've made a proper inspection." Warily, he approached the machine, and when he judged himself close enough he gave it a thorough looking over. Then he turned to face us. "This is quite the worst workmanship I have encountered in my entire life. It might bring a few stray spirits from nearby hauntings, but I'd stake my life on the fact that it would never, and I mean never, bring spirits into this world from the next." Here, he paused to gaze upon our faces. We, in turn, were staring in rapt fascination. Heartened by our avid attention, the professor continued. "All we must do is knock out one of these poorly-made pins, and I assure you this entire contraption will fall apart before our very eyes. Now, I suggest that we—"
What he was about to suggest we would never know, because the professor now realised that Roberta and I weren't so much gazing at him in rapt fascination, but rather the machine behind him. Indeed, it was not the machine itself which we found so interesting, but the pair of clawed red demons that were even now emerging from within it. Fully twelve feet tall, with broad faces and arms as thick as tree trunks, these were no mere phantasms but seemingly living flesh and blood… if such an evil-looking creature even had blood.
These arrivals were directly behind the professor, and Roberta and I were so overcome by the horror we were quite unable to speak. They rose higher and higher, towering over him, and then some shadow or change in the light alerted the professor to his danger. Our wild gestures and pointing fingers may also have given him a clue. Thus the professor turned, sword at the ready, to came face to face with the two huge demons. Then, very slowly, he lowered the sword and backed away.
One of the demons sniffed
