less the selection.
She settled back in her seat and sighed. The place had no pews, just like the great medieval cathedrals. Chairs — quite comfortable ones — had been set up, and for them she was grateful.
No, actually the chapel didn’t seem so much like a church after all. It was too much like the rest of the castle, and the castle was unlike anything on Earth. She wondered if Incarnadine had been a religious man. Did he believe in his family’s traditional religion? Were there gods, real gods, in this universe? Everything else of a supernatural bent existed in this universe, and she decided that mere gods shouldn’t be an exception.
She thought about her own views on religion. They didn’t amount to much. She held very few firm convictions about anything important: religion, politics, philosophy. This lack had always bothered her.
She simply wasn’t any kind of super-intellectual. Never had been. Gene — now there was a smart kid.
Too smart, sometimes. He was always thinking, furiously thinking, wheels turning, scheming.
Gene. Where the heck was he, anyway? A few servants had fanned out to look for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Off in some wild aspect, probably, having fun. Well, he was in for quite a shock when he came back. Incarnadine would be in his tomb by then.
The funeral was tomorrow. They’d moved it up. Incarnadine was supposed to have lain in state for a week or more, but somebody had second thoughts and rescheduled the service for tomorrow morning. Why, she didn’t know.
She grew aware that other people had come into the chapel. She looked back to see Dalton, Thaxton, Deena Williams, and Melanie McDaniel heading her way, all wearing black armbands.
Linda was wearing a mourning outfit that she had whipped up. Black tights, a nice doublet with black sequins, black boots.
Dalton took the seat to her left, Melanie opposite.
“How are you holding up?” Dalton whispered.
“Fine.”
Melanie asked, “Have you been eating?”
“Not really.”
“You should.”
“I know. I just don’t have any appetite.”
“You’re taking this the hardest of all of us,” Dalton said.
Linda heaved a sigh. “He just seemed to hold this whole world together. Without him, it’s all like a crazy dream.”
“I know what you mean.”
“It’s always seemed like a dream to me,” Melanie said.
“But even here,” Dalton said, “death is a fact of life.”
“Yeah, it’s so inevitable.”
Thaxton leaned over to say, “I’m told the funeral will be quite a big do.”
“Should be a real pageant,” Dalton speculated.
“I hate funerals,” Deena Williams said.
“Who likes them?” Melanie asked.
“I get all depressed.”
“Wonder why.”
“And I never liked church either.”
“Well …”
“There’s going to be an orchestra, I hear,” Dalton said, craning his neck. “Back there in the choir loft, I guess. Mozart, Beethoven, and a bunch of stuff from other worlds by composers I’ve never heard of.”
“He liked music,” Linda commented.
“He was a singular man,” Dalton said. “With all his powers, his gifts, it’s hard to believe he was only human. There was something of the demigod about him.”
“I never thought of him as godlike,” Linda said. “He was human to me.”
“Well, you’re a great magician. You and he had something in common. You both could handle the castle’s magic.”
“I’m hardly in his league.”
“Maybe not, but you’re up there.”
They all sat silently for a moment, listening to the strangely lilting strings.
“I can’t figure out whether that music is tonal or atonal,” Dalton said.
“Damned lugubrious,” Thaxton opined.
“It’s positively funereal.”
Thaxton eyed him. “That’s one,” he said menacingly.
“Shhhh!”
The two former golfers looked back at Deena.
“Y’all ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“You always get me into trouble,” Dalton whispered.
Chastened, they sobered up and were silent.
Presently Linda rose.
“You’re right, I should eat something. I think I’m actually hungry now.”
“I’ll go with you,” Melanie said.
“If you want. After, I’m going to rest up for the funeral. It’s going to be a strain.”
“You better believe it. This place will be packed.”
“Yeah. On second thought, I’m just going to have supper served in my room. I’m tired. Gonna sack out till tomorrow. See you guys later.”
They all nodded. Linda began the long walk to the door, her boots clacking against hard flagstone.
“Family been here?” Dalton asked Melanie.
“Yeah, they were here earlier. I went up to pay my condolences. Are you going to?”
“Never met them. Kind of awkward, but I should, I suppose.”
“Well, of course you should, old man,” Thaxton said. “Only proper.”
“Yes. I will. This is all so damned bloody awful. What will we do without him?”
“At least we know Trent is a good guy,” Melanie said.
The erstwhile duffers exchanged looks.
Dalton said, “He’s not Incarnadine.”
Twenty
Shaft
“Here it is!”
Gene had hoped that mining engineers so bent on safety would have thought of providing escape shafts in case of accident. Shafts that went all the way to the surface. They had indeed provided them.
He pushed against the panic-bar and the heavy blastproof door gave. He stepped halfway in and confronted a small landing which abutted a spiral stairway constructed of unpainted metal. The shaft was lit with tiny blue lights glowing dimly.
“This is convenient.”
Sativa poked her head in and looked up and down the shaft.
“We’re near the bottom level. It’s a long way up.”
They entered the shaft. Gene closed the door quietly. They then began a cautious climb up the spiral.
“I don’t like the idea of being trapped between levels,” he said in low tones.
“It’s a chance we must take. Do you think it goes all the way to the surface?”
“Stands to reason. Opens out onto the slope of the hill, probably.”
“Damn it,” she said. “This is no good.”
