The Prophecy Machine

“Whoever you are, you can halt right now,” Finn shouted, “I'll brook no more nonsense this day-”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before something burst through brittle foliage, shrieking and whining, an assault upon his ears. Finn stepped quickly aside, raised his weapon-stopped in his tracks, stood there and stared.

Julia Jessica Slagg scuttled past him, lizard legs a-blur, moving at a speed Finn had never imagined she could go. Just behind her came something with a hop, something with a gimp, something that scuffled and staggered and dipped, something dark and damp with a pinched little face and shaggy ears. Something, he saw, no less than Squeen William himself, clutching a wretched broom, swatting at Julia, shrieking and shouting and gnashing wicked teeth.

“Hold it, you, hold it right there!” Finn took three long steps, grabbed the Vampie by the scruff, jerked him off his ugly feet, leaving him swatting air.

“I don't know what you're up to or why, but it's over right now. Drop the broom, Squeen, and stop that noise before you ruin my ears for good!”

Squeen's answer was another shriek, even shriller than before. He spit, spat, ground his razor teeth, stared up at Finn with his fearful Vampie eyes.

“I can't blame you for being thick-headed, considering who you work for. Now get out of here while I've still got a kindly mood to spare.”

With that, Finn loosed the wretched fellow, dropped him to the ground, gave him a kick and sent him on his way. The Vampie whined and whimpered, sniveled and yelled, fell in the brush, rose and hit a tree, stumbled to his feet and scampered toward the kitchen door.

Finn turned away in disgust. “Julia, where might you be? Call out or something, I can't see a thing in this tangle of desiccated grass.”

“Move an inch with that dirty boot of yours, and you'll step on my head …”

Finn looked down, startled by the croak, by the too familiar squawk, by the cranky voice right at his feet.

“Will you tell me what that is all about?” he said, squatting to the ground. “Why is that fleabag after you with a broom? What are you doing out here with Letitia up there all alone?”

“I'm fine, I'm not hurt badly, thank you for your gracious concern. Would you turn me over, please? This is undignified and crude, a plain humiliation at best.”

Finn tried to keep a solemn face. Julia did indeed look somewhat improper lying on her back, legs churning in the air.

“I'll have to look at that,” he said, setting her aright. “I'd guess a balance wheel is somewhat off the track. Possibly a spinner gear, it's hard to tell which. If you wish, I'll carry you back to the house.”

“I don't wish, Finn. I am quite accustomed to taking care of myself. Which is lucky indeed, since I seldom get any help.”

“Whatever you like,” Finn said. “And you haven't answered my questions, being so busy crying about yourself-”

At that instant, a familiar howl erupted from the house, a howl and a scream and some other sounds as well.

Finn raced for the door, Julia on his heels, slightly off center, but clearly under sail.

At the entry, at the shabby front steps, Finn paused, listening to the clamor, then raised one foot and kicked the door in.

The door nearly vanished, crumbled into powder, scattered into pulp, back to basic dust. Finn stopped short and drew a breath, taking in a most peculiar sight. Squeen William writhed on the floor, flailing about, caught in the tangle of a cruel corded net that had dropped from above. The net was laced with barbs, hooks, nails and broken glass.

Sabatino stood back from the trap, not even looking at Squeen, venomous eyes locked entirely on Finn.

“Don't stand there gawking, craftsman,” the younger Nucci said. “You've a blade, help me cut this miserable creature out.”

“This is a terrible deed,” Finn said, guessing at once who the trap was really for. “The poor fellow could've been killed.”

“True enough,” Sabatino said, shaking his head, “nothing ever works the way it should …”

31

He held her very close, so tightly she feared he might crush her in his joyous embrace. He smelled to high heaven, smelled of mold, smelled of onions, smelled of Bowsers and Foxers and primeval sweat.

Letitia didn't care. She was just glad to have him safe again, glad to have him there.

“Rest,” she told him, “you're practically asleep on your feet. We can talk after that.”

Finn, bone-weary and ready to drop, started to babble and couldn't stop. It all came at once, the whole thing from the start: Foxers, Bowsers, Nicoretti and the seer. The Bullies and the stone. The Coldies and the storm, Hooters hooting in the night. And, finally, poor Squeen William setting off the trap Sabatino had laid for Finn.

“I knew it,” Letitia said, clenching her fists till her palms turned white. “That old man told me his son was up to something. Bragged about it, can you believe that?”

“I can indeed. That, and any other madness you have to tell.”

“I couldn't warn you, love. There was nothing I could do.”

She glanced at Julia, giving her a nasty stare. “I might've had some help, if Miss Julia hadn't run off for fear she'd get taken apart.”

“What?” Julia raised her snout, blinked her red eyes. “Who's going to take who apart? Anyone tries, they'll come away without a hand!”

“Don't lie,” Letitia said. “If you lie, you don't get an afterlife. Though I don't know as you would, being what you are …”

“Wait just a minute here.” Finn clapped his head between his hands. “Who's going to take Julia apart, what are we talking about?”

“I didn't even know about that. I left when the old man came in. And where was I going, one might ask? I was going to look for you, Finn.”

“You had better be talking true this time,” Letitia said.

“What old man? Calabus, you mean? He was in here? You didn't say a thing about that.”

“Now when would I, dear? With all your tales, who'd get a word in? That man-you won't believe this, I didn't-He wanted me to work with him on that-whatever it is. As if you could get me down there again … Oh, Finn, you don't know what I'm talking about, I scarcely do myself.”

She paused to get a breath, led Finn over to the bed and sat him down. “You're soaking wet. Get out of those clothes and get into something else.”

“Like what? I don't have anything else.”

“I don't care, I'll wrap you in a sheet. Finn, that man is scary. He so much as told me he doesn't know what he's doing down there. All that-that awful machinery, and he doesn't know? He wants help from me? He said he had a dream. I thought I'd come out of my skin, listening to stuff like that.”

“It simply doesn't make sense.”

“You think I don't know? That's what scared me to death. Oh, Finn …”

Finn looked down at his basket and grasped her hand in his. “I'm sorry about the food, I really did my best.” The rain had done its job, and there was nothing left but a soggy layer of mush.

“I couldn't get you anything to wear. Shops aren't the same over here.”

“You got back, love.”

“Captain Pynch said hello.”

Letitia made a face. “You told me that.” She studied the amulet the Mycer had sent, ran the polished chain through her fingers, touched the tiny stone.

“I hope she's not angry at me for using her name. I didn't know what else to do.”

“She's not mad. She's greatly concerned, is all.”