The Prophecy Machine

once he didn't want to meet her eyes.

“That isn't what you want, don't try and tell me that. You're after something else, and it better not be what I think it is!”

“Huh!” Color rose to mottle the old man's face, but it quickly went away. “That's my worthless son you're talking about. He's the pervert in the house, not me. I got needs, all right, and I'm sure there's a couple you could fill …”

“Will you get to it? I'd rather listen to the rain, it makes more sense than you.”

“Can I sit?”

“What for? All right, that chair's got three good legs. Don't come near this bed.”

Letitia waited, arms across her breasts, back to the window. Ready, if she had to, to leap through the dirty glass out into the rain. And what was Julia thinking, disappearing on her like that?

“I want to talk to you,” Calabus said, “you weren't wrong in that.”

“First, let's get something straight. If that smelly cook brings any harm to Julia, he'll wish he never had.”

Calabus looked at the floor. “If that man of yours doesn't come back, I'd like you to stay here with me …”

“You what?” Calabus wouldn't meet her eyes, and Letitia was glad of that.

“I don't expect you to fully understand. Not right off, anyway. It'll take a little while to settle in.”

“Get out of here. I'm going to throw something at you. As soon as I can find anything in one piece.”

“It's not what you think. I already said that.”

“And what is it you think?”

Calabus faced her. It seemed to Letitia he looked older and dirtier by the minute, as if the ancient flesh, the shaggy hair, the awful rags he wore were sloughing into dust, even as she watched.

“You've seen my invention down below. I don't feel you were comfortable at the time, but I think you'd come to love it there. You'd throw up awhile, but we can overcome that. There's herbs and potions you can take.

“I did my best to make young Finn see the value of my work. I tell you what, I'm quite disappointed in him. You'd do better, I'm sure of that. You could be a great help to me, girl. I strongly doubt you'll ever get a chance at something as big as this.”

Calabus rested his hands on his knees and showed her a loony smile. “What do you think, dear? If that fellow doesn't make it back-and I surely doubt he will-I could give you a good position here. You can keep this room. That window's the best in the house. I don't get a lot of light in mine.”

Letitia counted to three. Stopped, and counted once again.

“I'm going to be perfectly calm about this. I don't want you coming at me with a piece of that chair. No. I won't stay here with you, I'd just as soon die. And Finn's coming back, no matter what you've got in your head. No offense, and you stay right there, but this is the worst, most disgusting offer I've ever had in my life. Perhaps you can't tell, but I am shaking all over right now.

“Aside from all that, how on earth did you get it in your head that a Mycer girl could help you with that frightful machine? I mean, if you could chain me up and toss me screaming in there? I've just got to hear that.”

“I mumle-dumle-loo …” “Look at me, all right?”

Calabus did, then glanced away at once. “I had this dream. You were down there-helping me with things.”

“I was not. That was somebody else.”

“It was you, all right. You did some-some stuff I don't know how to do …”

“What-what kind of stuff?” Somehow, these words scared Letitia more than anything else the man had said.

“I don't know, all right? Things …”

Calabus looked anxious, miserable and full of dread. It was all he could do just to get the words out.

“You already said it, girl. It doesn't make sense, but it's real. It's a Telling Dream, I'm certain of that. I've had dreams of every sort, you won't believe what goes through my head. This one, though, was real. You'd best be nice to me. We're going to be friends. You want something to eat? I'll have Squeen William cook you something up.”

“I'd rather eat dirt. I'd rather eat a bush.”

“Up to you, girl.” Calabus pulled himself up with a long and painful sigh. “I'll run down and see if he's caught that slippery lizard yet.”

“You heard what I said. You harm her in any fashion, and you'll regret it, old man.”

Calabus grinned. He looked past her at the storm outside.

“Even if your man gets back-which I don't guess he will-that pesky boy of mine's got a nasty surprise waiting for him at the door. You and me'll talk some more after that …”

29

The storm caught up with Finn an alley past the Mycer seer's door. He ran for cover quickly, under the arches by a shop called SHIRT. He thought he knew what they sold there. He'd been in town long enough to guess. Maybe there was one called FROCK nearby, where he could get something for Letitia to wear.

If there really was a shop, if there really was a FROCK.

If it was day now instead of dark.

If it wasn't raining hens and frogs.

If there weren't any Foxers or Hooters on the prowl.

Maybe the storm was a piece of luck. Even villains of the very worst sort would likely stay home on such a frightful night.

Finn wrapped his cloak about him and ran into a fierce, punishing rain that came at him in chilling and penetrating gusts, and nearly swept him off his feet. A rain that moaned and howled, a rain that stung his cheeks, a rain hard as peppercorns, hard as little daggers, hard as little stones. A rain, Finn decided, that could drown a man standing if he dared to raise his nose.

He didn't have a plan, at least not one that made sense. He didn't know east, he didn't know west. He knew, though, the town had to end. When it did, he could walk in a circle till he found the Nuccis' house. The place wasn't all that big. The odds were one in four he was, at that very moment, headed the right way.

Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, as his boots began to slosh and the rain began to trickle down his neck, the houses and the shops began to thin. Ahead lay lone and shadowy remains, dark skeletal structures, blurred and indistinct, warped and distorted by the unremitting gusts from overhead.

Finn ducked beneath his chill and sodden cloak, dashing through the storm to the cover of a nearly roofless frame, the sad and darkened bones of some hapless farmer's barn.

It was very little shelter, but better than being drowned. Maybe he could take his boots off, pour the water out, let his socks dry.

“So where am I, then?” he asked himself aloud. He remembered, roughly, how far the Nuccis were from town. The ruined barn seemed near enough. If he knew which way to go, to the left or to the right …

Finn turned swiftly, suddenly alert, suddenly aware. Someone, something, was in there with him in the barn! Nothing he could see, nothing he could touch, but the overwhelming presence was something he could feel.

For a moment, he froze, stood perfectly still. Hand on his weapon, eyes on the dark. Saw them as they slowly, silently appeared, saw them of a sudden, saw them growing near, figures made of vapor, vague and indistinct. And with this spectral vision came the chill, musty odors of days unremembered, lives lost and spent …

“Oh, it's you fellows, then,” Finn said, with a great sigh of relief. “You had me there a minute, I'm somewhat