The Prophecy Machine

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 …

35

“He put something big against the door. Something extremely large, I can't budge the thing an inch.”

Finn struck his fist against the door until it hurt. “He didn't do it alone, either. He had to have help.”

“Squeen William, you think?”

“Who else? That fellow's incredible. Sabatino nearly crippled the lout, and he's up and going again. Calabus loathes him, yet he's clearly working for him. Apparently, whoever screamed at him last …”

“This is not good, Finn. This is not good at all.”

Letitia stood well across the room, arms crossed, drumming her fingers against her elbow at a fairly rapid pace. Not a promising sign, Finn knew. It was like faraway thunder before a great storm.

“No, it's truly not good, but it's not the end of the world. Calabus has left himself in a very tricky spot. If he tries to keep us here, we'll smash that window and lower ourselves to the ground. I'd start knotting sheets if I were you. On the other hand, if he opens that door, I'll run the fellow through. If it comes to that, I'll take Squeen William as well.”

“Finn-”

“What?”

“Come over here, and look down, please.”

“Why? There's nothing to see.”

Nevertheless, he joined her and peered through the flyencrusted glass.

“I believe that's Squeen William,” he said. “He's sitting in the grass out there. By damn, he's got a weapon, too.”

“I believe he does, dear.” “I think I know what it is. It's a Ponce-Klieterhaus musket. Used by the Hansi Grenadiers. Shoots a fairly decent ball. Why, that relic's fifty years old.”

“You think he could hit anything?”

“I shouldn't think so. Hard to tell, though.”

“Uh-huh.” Letitia's tapping rapidly increased. “I don't intend to knot a sheet, Finn. I'm willing to listen to another suggestion, but I will not dangle my lovely self out a window to see if a Vampie can shoot me down.”

“He wouldn't act like this if he hadn't been terribly abused.”

“I feel sorry for him, too.”

“Yes, well … Julia, up here on the table, if you will. You've still got a jerky foot from that run-in with Squeen and his broom. We may have to move quickly quite soon.”

Letitia sighed. “Do we have time for this? Don't you have other things to do?”

“Whatever we do, I think we should all be in good shape to do it. Stop moving around, Julia, we're not back in the shop. If I break something here, you're scrap.”

“Anyone ever tell you you have a horrid bedside manner, Finn?”

“Anyone ever tell you I'm not a physician, and you're not a patient? What you are, if you don't lie still, is a useless collection of cogs and gears. Gold, copper and tin that would make a nice watch with enough left over for the bin.”

“No wonder you're not a doctor. Who in their right mind would reeerk!”

Julia gave a tremble and a jerk, opened her snout and went stiff as a lizard can be.

“There now, that's better. Let's see what we can see.” Finn slipped a fingernail beneath a certain scale, gave it a tap that only Finn knew. A panel swung open in Julia's tin belly, a panel that revealed a great wonder, a sight to confound the keenest eye. Here was a world that moved in a whisper, in a click, in a blur. Muscles of nickel, sinews of brass, nine tiny hearts made of mercury and gold. Nerves fine as gnat's hair spun from cinnabar and pearl.

Finn fairly shuddered at the thought of that crazed old man poking grubby fingers in Julia's tiny parts. Why, a mote of dust alone from this sty was enough to spoil the crudest device-what havoc it could wreak on Julia Jessica Slagg!

A touch here, a nudge there, with a needle fine as any ever made, a tool Finn always pinned to the collar of his coat. One more twist and he was done.