“As I said, take it easy. Don't panic. Which is exactly what you did.”
“Stones and Bones, Julia, what in all hell was that? Letitia, where did she-”
“I've lost her. I don't know where she is, but I know what's making you sick. As I said, the emanations from that machine have always been evident in the house, but they're awfully strong here. We're very close to it. By my reckoning, we shouldn't be, but we are.”
“And that's what's causing the smell?”
“What? Oh no, that's excreta, waste and flux. Dribble, sweat, foul urination and such. And, if I'm not mistaken, Squeen William's cooking lunch. Don't be concerned about that, it's the throbbing and the pulse, the rumble and drumming and the thrum, that's what'll bring you down.”
Finn was scarcely listening at all. The back of his neck still tingled, and he couldn't make it stop.
“When we were down there … that thing had a strong effect on Letitia. I should never have taken her there.”
“I have to tell you, Finn. If we get any closer, I doubt you can stay in a conscious state for long.”
Finn shook his head. “I have to. I've got to find her and get her out of here.”
“What good will it do if you're stricken by this-wave, this radiation, whatever it may be? It's better if I go on, discover where she is.”
“Forget it. We're wasting time here. If I have to throw up, I'll do it on the way …”
37
Julia said they were going up. It felt like down to Finn. With the myriad of slants, angles, skews and deviations, zigs, zags, corners and bends, it was nearly impossible to tell. Once, Finn came upon a window. A window with glass, a window with panes, nailed to the floor. What was it doing there? On the other hand, why not, in a place like this?
He wondered, again, if Calabus knew they were gone. What would he do if he did? Maybe send the Vampie in. Squeen would feel at home in a place like this. What had the old man done to Sabatino? Locked him up, done him in? Would he go that far with his very own son? Unthinkable, of course. Unless you were a Nucci. All bets were off then …
Finn cursed as a stream of hot tallow stung his fingers. He almost dropped the candle, but caught it as it nearly went out. It was getting short now. What would he do when it was gone? Hang on to Julia's tail while she led him around in the dark?
The pulse, the throb, the dark emanations were stronger than ever now. Finn tried to picture Letitia, picture her eyes, picture her face, picture her safe. Sometimes he could see her, sometimes she wasn't there.
He wiped the sweat off his face, shook his head to keep it clear. The force was like a great and hungry magnet drawing him in, pulling him ever tighter in its grasp. He felt it was tugging at his flesh, bending, cracking his bones, and the thought struck terror in his heart.
Once, when he could shake his mind clear, he wondered if the thing down below was the only force that drew him in. Or was the strong magic a part of that power as well? Or, suppose the two were one? He tried to hold the thought, but it flicked off in the ether and was gone …
“Finn … Finn?”
Finn looked up, suddenly aware that he was down on the floor retching between his knees. There was nothing there, but his stomach didn't care.
“You find her … you-got Leti-Letitia now …?”
“No, Finn. I only know she went this way. We can't go any further. I have to get you out of here.”
“Letitia …”
“I'll come back. I'll find her. I promise you that.”
“Need some-candles,” Finn muttered to himself, almost certain he knew what a candle was for, fighting to keep his vision clear.
“Candles are good,” Julia said. “Come on now, stay close to me …”
He could scarcely see now, the very air seemed to warp, seemed to buckle, seemed to blur. The world without was false, distorted, anything but real. The world within his head was even worse than that …
Something moved, something bent, something twisted out of shape, and, even from Finn's disordered view, he knew that it shouldn't be there …
“Julia …?”
“I saw it too. Just for an instant. It isn't Letitia, though.”
“What else-is in here?”
Julia didn't answer. Finn touched her scaly back, stumbled, and got up again.
“I can't help you much,” Julia said. “Whatever this power is, it's not good for lizard machines. Things are happening inside I've never felt before.”
“Me … me too.”
The shimmering walls, the convoluted floor, seemed to beat like a monstrous heart. Finn ducked into a wind he couldn't see, heard a deep and dreadful howl. And there was the thing again, a phantom, a wisp, an involution of the air. He wondered if Julia saw it too. Wanted to ask, but didn't know how.
“We're terribly close to it now,” Julia said, from a million miles away, “the device, it's expanded somehow, spread from the cellar up into the house …”
I should have guessed, Finn said, or maybe thought aloud, … should have known that … it was growing when we saw it … why should it stop, confine itself there?
“We can't go this way,” Julia said, “We have to go back, get through somewhere else.”
Where? There isn't anywhere but here …
He didn't see it this time, didn't see a shadow, didn't see it dark-dark-dark against the wall. This time, it came up from behind, silent and swift, and he smelled its fetid odor, smelled its deathly breath, turned too late, as it picked him up and threw him hard against the wall.
Finn hit, struck a rotten beam and tumbled to the floor. The creature was on him then, pounding with its fists, beating his head against the floor. Finn couldn't see it, but knew it was strong, knew it smelled awful, knew there was nothing he could do but try to stay alive. And that wouldn't work, not for too long. This growling, odorous brute had mutilation in mind, and possibly worse than that.
The creature shrieked and loosed its grip. Finn clawed at the floor, trying to get away. He heard a familiar claaaank!,and knew that Julia had bitten the fellow hard, winced, an instant after that, as Julia hit the floor with a ruinous crunch of copper, a shattering of tin.
“Hold on,” Finn shouted, “I'm coming, whatever's broken, it's something I can fix!”
With a roar, with a breath that would gag any good-sized town, the creature grabbed Finn, tossed him over its shoulder, and stomped away in the dark.
Finally, his captor stopped, opened a door, and stepped inside. It paused there a moment, then dumped Finn roughly to the floor.
Finn was aware of dim candlelight. He groaned, rolled on his back, looked up and saw the creature standing there. Finn began to yell and couldn't stop. The brute wasn't nearly as big as he'd thought, but he'd seen it before, seen the crazed eyes, seen the tangled beard, the dirty hair. Seen it kicking, flailing and screaming outside his own room.
The brute frowned, spat on the floor. It muttered to itself, found a tangled cord, left Finn bound for market then it stomped out the door.
Finn took a breath. For the moment, he was apparently alive. And one thing more: the dreadful sounds were nearly gone. He could scarcely feel them in here!
“Well, this is just fine, I've got company now. Damn you, Finn, how did you get here?”
Finn turned, startled. Sabatino was leaning against a far wall bound in much the same manner as Finn himself.
“What-what are you doing here?”
Sabatino rolled his eyes in disgust. “I believe I asked you first, craftsman. I'm here because that insane father of mine got free and put me here. It's fairly clear he got you as well. How's Miss Letitia? I hope she fared better than you.”
Finn took a breath. “Who is that-that disgusting creature? Kites and Mites, I never smelled anything worse in my life!”