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Though he surely couldn't tell from a hole in the ground, it was likely nearly dawn. It seemed much longer than one dawn past since he and the Bullie had risen from the Royal Balloon Grounds, floated past the Swamp of Bleak Demise, the awesome battleground, and into a chimney in Heldessia Town.

Scarcely arrived, then, and eager to depart-a wish that was nearly as strong as his second desire, a decent hot meal.

Letitia, bless her, surely was starving as well. Only great fatigue would set her need aside. For despite her ever-slender form, Letitia Louise seldom strayed far from the chance for a tasty meal.

No use even trying to sleep now, Finn said to himself. Morning will be upon us, and we'll be out of here.

Where would he find Bucerius? The Bullie said he'd be around, but Finn knew he should have asked. There was a shop he'd mentioned, someone he knew. Perhaps the name would come to mind.

As for the clock, the birthday present, the most tasteless object Finn had put together since he'd thought of lizard craft-he would give it to that sober-faced Dostagio when he saw the fellow again. Maybe a note would be apt, he could surely do that:

Dear King Llowenkeef-Grymm:

Here is an ugly gift from your greatest foe,

Hatefully,

Prince Aghen Aghenfleck IV

Probably not the way to put it, but something like that.

Finn rose, and gently pulled the cloak more snugly about Letitia Louise. Julia stood perfectly still in a corner of the room, giving her imitation of a nap. Finn had told her repeatedly she did not have the ability to sleep, and Julia, of course, insisted that she did, pointing out that while she was, indeed, a mechanical device, she had a ferret's brain, and that was the part that slept. A bit of logic, there, Finn had to admit-but never to Julia, of course.

No use sleeping, but it wouldn't hurt to simply sit: either that or stand up all night. What he wouldn't do, couldn't do, on the floor that chilled him to the bone, was nod off. No chance of that. A man must take control of himself, despite the situation. Use his strength, use his will. Maintain vigilance, in spite of one's bodily needs…

— he woke, kicking, screaming, flailing about, grabbing for anything that might hold still-burst up out of a dream where the earth shook beneath him, tossing him helplessly, this way and that.

Woke, and saw the dream was real, heard the walls rumble, saw the veil of dust tremble from the ceiling to the floor.

Stunned, dazed and out of sorts, Finn came shakily to his feet and made his way to Letitia Louise. She reached out for him, her dark Mycer eyes full of fear.

“Quake, tremor, terrible disaster, I don't know,” he shouted, “I wish we were somewhere, anywhere but here!”

He waited, then, holding her close. Catastrophes seldom stopped at one. Usually, you could count on three.

Nothing.

Everything was perfectly still. A tiny stone went ping! off Julia's golden scales, a sound that seemed much louder than it should.

“Is it over, is it done? Are we all right, Finn?” Letitia ran her sleeve across her mouth, wiping away the dust.

“I would think so. Whatever it was, it's apparently over for now. Nevertheless, subterranean quarters are not the place to be when the earth begins to shift about. You bring my cloak, Letitia, I'll get the torch. We'd best make our way out of here.”

“A sound call, you ask me,” Julia said.

“I don't believe anybody did.”

Finn opened the heavy door, thankful the mysterious tremor hadn't jammed the thing shut. The long hallway looked just as it had before. Cavernous and dark, except for the torches, set wide apart on the wall.

“All right, we seem to be clear. Let's hurry on, now.”

“Not that way,” Letitia said. “We need to go right.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, dear.”

“She is,” Julia said. “And there's someone else out here as well.”

“What? Yes, Dostagio-I'm very glad you're here,” Finn said, catching sight of the fellow now, as he stepped out of the dark. “We're about to make our way out. There was some sort of quake.”

“Not really, sir. It wasn't a quake, it was the Millennial Bell. Shook things up quite a bit upstairs.”

“The millennial bell, you say?” Finn was uncertain he'd heard the man right. “What's that all about?”

“Sir,” Dostagio said, as if he hadn't heard a word, “If you'll follow me, you might wish to clean up a bit: we'll find you some proper clothes. Breakfast will be at eight. I expect His Grace will be there. He's always quite hungry after he's been dead a while… “

TWENTY-TWO

"No, I'm not going to ask him that, and you're not either, Julia. The King's got his church, and I've got mine. It's not our concern. It might be the fellow simply decided to get up early this time.”

“He's right,” Letitia said softly, for sound carried much too well in the vast stone hall. “I'm curious too, but perhaps someone will explain.”

“If I'm not being too impertinent,” Dostagio said, without missing a step, without turning about, “what is the nature of that thing wobbling about at your side? Is it yours? I don't recall seeing it before.”

“It's a lizard, and no, you didn't have a chance to see it when we arrived.”

“A lizard, you say?”

“Yes, that's what they're called. That's what I do. I make lizards of every sort.”

“Very well, sir.”

A twist here, another there, walls, torches, and a myriad of doors. Where these doors might lead, Finn couldn't guess, and wasn't sure he wished to know.

Finally, however, the grim, black-marble walls came to an end. In their place were grim, black-marble stairs, spi-raling up from the depths. A warm, more comforting breeze wafted down from above, driving away the chill of the underground world.

“If I should lose my senses and leave the surface of the earth, ever again-I beg you, Finn, stop me, by whatever means.”

“A promise, my dear.”

Julia, as agile, quick and spry as any creature of flesh and bone, had met her match on the winding marble stairs. At times she simply stalled, iron claws spinning against the slick, unyielding stone. She moved in a blink, in a blur of motion, going nowhere at all.

Neither Finn nor Letitia made any move to help, or even notice she was there. If senses beyond either human or Newlie were a virtue, then pride was Julia's sin.

As they approached the top of the staircase, they could see, ‘round the corner, not the dim flicker of torches, but the first, hopeful beams of nature's light itself. And, a few steps farther into the ascent, a dazzling dome of brightly colored glass came into sight.

“How perfectly lovely,” Letitia said, squinting into the unfamiliar splendor overhead. “What a marvelous thing to see!”

“Finely crafted, indeed,” Finn added, mostly to himself.

He noted, upon a second look, that a face was pictured there, a face of extraordinary beauty, features captured in an instant of unbridled joy, triumph and release.

“It is called The Happy Dead, sir,” Dostagio said, as if guessing Finn's thoughts. “One of our finest works of art. You will see, as we reach the final steps, it is the first of such wonders made to light the Hall of Lengthy Termination, the Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings.”

“Oh, dear!” Letitia, first on the heels of their guide, clasped a hand to her breast, as if she could scarcely breathe. “Never have I seen such a marvel in my life. Finn, I can't believe my eyes.”

Finn, too, was stunned by the sight. He felt a pang of both envy and pride, for the artisans who had created these masterpieces clearly possessed skills unsurpassed.