Neal Barrett Jr - Treachery of Kings

“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… “

"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.

Each magnificent statue stood atop a solid, polished obsidian base. The works themselves, carved of the whitest, purest marble Finn had ever seen, stretched down the long passageway in seemingly endless array, the whole brightened by still more dazzling colored domes arching overhead.

The marvel of these pieces lay in their extreme sense of detail. Each gem-encrusted crown, each fold in a ruler's cape, each vein, each feature of royal countenance, was sculpted with most exquisite care.

And so many, Finn thought, such a long line of kings! Prince Aghen Aghenfleck's forebears, he knew, could be traced for many generations, but nothing so ancient as this.

“His castle isn't that grand, either,” Finn whispered to Letitia. “I wonder if the arrogant fool knows what his foe has over here?

“I must say, Dostagio, I have seen fine art in a number of lands, but these marbles of your kings are most notable, indeed.”

“Oh, no, not marble, if I may correct you, sir,” Dostagio said, pausing to face his charges there. “Crystallization, as it were. Deanimation, wherein one is shifted to an unresponsive state. Awfully painful, I understand, but nobility has its ups and downs, you know. Are you all right, Miss? Can I get you a goblet of water, perhaps a cup of tea…?”

Letitia Louise, queasy, slightly out of sorts and weak in the knees, completely forgot about petrified potentates and calcified kings the moment they reached the top of the twisted stairs.

The sight before her was spacious, immense, though neither word could describe the beauty and grandeur of the place. Another, even greater dome of glass arched a good hundred feet above the floor, and was easily twice as wide. Countless delicate shards of fractured glass clung together in spiderwebs of lead. Unlike the brighter hues in the Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings, the glass here was a thousand, muted shades of amber, rose, coral, saffron and tangerine. And, scarcely there at all, lest keen eyes searched them out, pale breaths of lilac, lavender and beryl-blue.

The startling effect of these colors was a light that painted every surface, infused the very air, with the subtle magic of golden dawn.

Yet, there were still more marvels in this wondrous room. From the base of the dome, from depths as azure as the sea, sprouted shadowy lengths of stone, impossibly thin columns that rose on tapered stems to blossom into broad, graceful petals, shapely lily pads.

These elegant circlets were of different heights, some stretching nearly to the top of the dome itself. Fifty or so, Finn guessed, and maybe more. The giant stems were made of alabaster, olivine, milkstone and quartz. Opal, onyx and jade. Finn stared in disbelief at these structures, for he knew such stones, minerals and gems couldn't possibly stand under the stress of this magnificent design, even if such staggering amounts of these materials could be found.

“Yet, it is there, indeed,” Finn said aloud. “And though I've found it wise to question many things I see, I believe there are a great many people eating breakfast here, and they don't look dead to me.”

“If I were deeply entombed,” Letitia said, “I feel that I'd get hungry too.”

“It smells good as well,” Julia said, with a rusty sigh. “I've already separated seventeen individual scents, all of them edible, eight of which I wouldn't touch if I were you.”

“I would rather decide that myself, if it's all the same to you. A mechanical device that doesn't eat is not the best judge of fine cuisine.”

“Do the words ‘toxic,’ ‘venomous,’ ‘poison,’ have any meaning to you? Consider ‘fatal,’ if you will.”

“Come now, sir and Miss, and lizard, I believe,” said Dostagio. “I shall find you a comfortable table at a level suited to your class, and see that you're served dishes I am certain will please and delight, and do you little harm at all… “

Narrow, circling stairs twisted around the sides of the dome, now and then leading to fragile, hanging bridges that joined one pad to the next-frail, swaying spans that looked more decorative than useful to Finn.