Snarling, Frank fumbled out an archaic tinder box and struck flint against steel. The spark fell into a mound of lycopodium, and a gout of flame shot up, out-flaring magnesium.
The light hit the silver salts in the tomato juice and developed a quick portrait—of a muscular form in an upstairs room, in a bed. Petty gazed on the face of Adonis, and gasped. "Urn—if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just run upstairs to the power room." She set down her teacup and rose.
"Oh, but we've one down here," L'Age informed her.
"I'm sure the one upstairs is much nicer." Petty tripped away toward the wide, curving staircase beyond the drawing room archway.
"Quickly, Frank! Fetch!" L'Age cried.
Frank roared and whirled about, crashing heavy-footed after Petty. Very heavy-footed, and he had a doubtful look on his face. But Petty glanced back, gasped in horror, and fled.
L'Age, however, felt no compunction. She dashed past the slow-footed Frank and grabbed a lever just inside the hallway. As Petty hit the first step, L'Age hauled on the lever, and the first three stairs fell away as a hidden panel opened. Petty's scream faded away as she dropped into the cellar.
"Down!" L'Age commanded, glaring at Frank and pointing into the hole.
Muttering protest, Frank sat down on the edge of the hole, one foot at a time.
"Faster, monstrosity! Faster!"
Frank grumbled something that sounded like, "Not right."
"Don't you dare preach to me!" L'Age screamed, and slammed a kick into his fundament. Frank bellowed as he dropped into the cellar.
He picked himself up just in time to see Petty pelting madly up the cellar stairs. Frank heaved 1) a sigh, and 2) himself (to his feet). He thudded over to the steps just as Petty reached the top. She pounded on the door, rattling the latch, screaming. Frank waited for her to take a breath, then rumbled, "Turn."
"What?" Petty looked down at her hand, saw it shaking the knob back and forth. "Oh! Yes! Thanks." She turned the knob and burst out into the foyer just as Frank pounded up to the halfway mark.
"Catch her, Frank! Catch her!" L'Age screamed, but Petty had rounded the turn and was vaulting over the hole in the staircase. "Can't anybody around here do something right?" L'Age howled, and yanked on another lever.
With a rumble, the stairs started moving—downward, of course. Petty cried out in frustration and ran harder, but the escalator picked up speed, and she just barely managed to stay in place.
"Catch her, Frank! Catch her!" L'Age screamed.
Frank plowed his way out of the cellar with a rumble of disgust and veered around the corner to the stairway. He leaped the open trapdoor—and hit the escalator. Even his huge, galumphing strides couldn't make headway, though admittedly, he wasn't trying very hard.
"Incompetents!" L'Age screamed. "All I get in this script are incompetents!" She glared up at the ornate brass-armed chandelier that hung over the stairway, then tore open a black panel in the foyer wall. With a snarl, she threw a power key, then thrust her hands into two metallic gloves. Current began to hum through servomotors, and the brass arms of the chandelier curved downward into two huge hands. They swung down on their lengthening chain, groping toward Petty. Suddenly, they plunged and snatched. Petty leaped aside with a scream, and the giant hands closed on empty air. The shock gave Petty a boost, and she made it two more stairs. The giant hands groped after her.
Out in the kitchen, the Scots terrier came bounding up to Roderick, yapping and growling. Roderick frowned down at it. "What's that? What did you say?… Logical inconsistencies? What, for example?"
The dog snarled and barked sharply.
"Yes…" Roderick nodded, lower lip thrusting out. "Now that you mention it, I had noticed that…"
The dog yapped three times and growled.
"Frank couldn't expend all this energy without a recharge, that's true," Roderick agreed. "And it is rather odd that a couple of vampires wouldn't have drained Auntie Dil and myself when they commandeered our house…"
Deviz yapped frantically, angrily.
"'Wake up?'" Roderick frowned, shaking his head. "What are you talking about? We are awake."
The terrier nearly went frantic.
"What do you mean, we're just dreaming?" Roderick shook his head again. "I don't understand."
"Nay, but I do!" Auntie Dil cried. She swept out the kitchen door with Deviz at her heels, yapping triumphantly.
Auntie Dil sailed into the foyer, crying, "Frank! Frank! Whoever thou truly art. Thou must waken! Dost'a hear me? Then hearken! Frank, waken!"
"You meddling busybody! What do you think you're doing?" L'Age cried.
Frank only grunted and kept running.
"He's a very primitive android," Buzzabeez explained as he appeared. "He can't take more than one order at a time. But you can! Now get back to the kitchen—that's your place!" He stabbed a finger at the swinging door.
"My place? Only for that I'm a woman? Nay! For I'll have thee know I'm a lady of power!" Auntie Dil drew back her hand, cupping invisible energy.
"Just my luck—an activist housekeeper," Buzzabeez snorted. "All right, go ahead. Try it!"
"Croak and hop!" Auntie Dil cried, throwing a whammy.
Blue sparks coruscated around Buzzabeez. He stood against it, letting the sparks dissipate. Then he advanced on her, seeming to swell and grow taller, and infinitely more menacing.
"But… how? Wherefore?" Auntie Dil cried, as she backed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
"Why, because you're only…"
The swinging door swung.
"Yeowtch!" cried Buzzabeez, as it slammed into his face. He pushed through, rubbing his nose and glowering at Auntie Dil. "It's because you're only a witch, you old bat!"
"I resent that!" L'Age's voice cried on the other side of the door.
"Only a witch," Buzzabeez snarled again, "and I'm a devil. A full-fledged, high-powered, hundred-percent devil— and much more evil than any mere witch…" He suddenly closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his forehead and swaying. "What am I saying? I can't be evil; I mustn't be! I mustn't give in to it… No, I must! If I don't enforce some disorder here, who will?" He lowered his hand, glaring at Gwen. "Where was I?… Oh, yes." Buzzabeez grinned his most oily. "A devil's more evil than any witch—so I'm much more powerful. That's the hell of it."
But Auntie Dil straightened, glaring in fury. "Nay! Evil's not the source of power—not of my sort of power, at all accounts! For I am no Auntie Diluvian, but Gwendylon Gallowglass, most powerful witch of Gramarye!"
Roderick stiffened, staring. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, and gave his head a quick shake.
"I am Gwen Gallowglass," the old fortune-teller cried, "and I will not tolerate such deceptions and…"
"Be quiet, you fool!" Buzzabeez shrieked. "You'll ruin the whole selection!" And he stretched his hand backward to throw, as a fireball exploded into existence between his fingertips.
"Look out, Gwen!" the old hunchback cried, and he threw himself at her. His shoulder slammed into her a split second before the fireball hissed through the air where she'd been, and she tumbled head over heels into the dumbwaiter.
Roderick hauled 1) himself to his feet, then 2) on the dumbwaiter rope. The compartment lifted up out of sight.
"I'll take that rope!" Buzzabeez snarled, but the bell chimed, and Roderick cried, "Second floor! Linens and bedroom furniture! All out!"
"Out of the way!" Buzzabeez howled. "Let me at that dumbwaiter!"
Roderick slammed the panel shut and whirled around to face the devil, leaning back and folding his arms. "What dumbwaiter?"