Neal Barrett Jr. - The Prophecy Machine

Finn felt a chill touch the back of his neck. Something, or someone, was whipping this crowd into a fever, into an unthinking horde. He could almost taste the anger, the unfettered rage, and most frightening of all, the ugly side of joy, the dark anticipation of what they'd come for, what they'd come to see.

“I don't like this,” he said, quickly grasping Letitia's hand. “We're leaving, we shouldn't be here.”

“Yes, you're right,” Letitia said, her eyes now wide with primal fear. “I'm scared, Finn. And I don't even know what it is I'm scared to see.”

Finn turned to retrace their steps, to go back the way they'd come. He saw, at once, there was no place to go, no way through that solid terrifying wall. It would be worth their lives to even try.

“Hold on to me,” he said, “don't let go. And don't be frightened, my dear.”

Letitia looked at him. “Why not? You are.”

Finn had no answer to that.

“Look, look there,” Letitia said, her nails biting into his arm. “What-what on earth is that!”

Finn followed her glance. At first, he saw nothing at all. Then, at the far end of the square, he saw that the great mass had parted to form a narrow avenue. This action brought the crowd to sudden quiet. A thousand breaths were held; for an instant, a thousand hearts ceased to beat.

Then, through this passage came a throng of yellow-hatters-a dozen, a dozen more than that, then a hundred more, backwards, forwards, walking and stalking, hopping in every mad direction, bumping into houses, running into walls, crashing headlong into their own, knocking one another to the ground. Some got up, and some lay where they fell.

The crowd shrank back, scattered, tried to let them get by. Still, there were too many townsfolk, too many Newlies wandering about. When some hapless soul got in the way, a yellow-hat would explode into anger, beat that being senseless, and kick them to the ground. No one tried to defend themselves, and no one came to their aid.

“This is insanity,” Finn said, “This country is a-a damned asylum, is what it is, and someone's stolen the key.”

“Huh? Whassat? What was you saying, sor?”

Finn looked up into a dirt-stained face, a sun-blistered nose, a tangled beard and septic eyes. All on the body of a hulk in overalls.

“You're quite mistaken, sir. I said nothing at all.”

“Ruuunka youga hoom,” the man said, or words to that effect. “You'd best not be sayin' it again.”

“Finn, please. ” Letitia rolled her eyes. “We are guests in this land. You're acting just awful. You're acting like Julia now.”

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Finn said, taken aback by her words. “I certainly won't do it again.”

And, with that, underneath his cloak, Julia Jessica Slagg dug brassy teeth into his flesh.

“I'll get you for that,” Finn muttered, sucking in a breath.

Once more the crowd began to shout, even louder, even more frenzied than before. From the break in the crowd, a high-wheeled wagon appeared, drawn by more hat people still. As the wagon drew closer, Finn could see it held an iron-barred cage. And, within the cage, clinging to the bars, was a naked, frightened man with a mop of shaggy white hair.

“Oh, dear, get me out of here, Finn, please. ”

Letitia's mouth was so dry she could scarcely spit out the words.

“I'd love to,” he told her, “but there's nowhere to go.”

He squeezed her hand, harder this time. No great help, but the best that he could do.

The villains brought the wagon to a halt near the fountain at the center of the square. Four of them hurried to the back of the cart and lifted off long wooden boards. They had clearly practiced this before: it was hardly any time before a rough-hewn structure took shape, a crude apparatus twice as tall as a man. Three other louts opened the cage and dragged the naked man out.

At once, the poor fellow shouted and flailed his limbs about. The crowd began to cheer. Clearly, they liked the show so far.

The victim wasn't young, but he was still full of fight. After much effort, his captors managed to bind him to the wooden device. The fellow strained against his bonds, threw back his head and howled.

“I-am-going-to be sick,” Letitia said, closing her eyes against the sight. “I really mean it, Finn.”

“No. No you're not. That's not a good idea.”

Holding Letitia about the waist, he turned to a doughy, middle-aged woman standing next to the man in overalls.

“Excuse me,” he said, “could you possibly tell me what they intend to do with that man?”

The woman smiled, showing Finn a row of blackened teeth. Dentistry, Finn decided, was in its infancy here.

“Why, same thing they al'ays does. Goin' to hang 'im, skin 'im and string 'im out.”

“They-what?”

Finn felt his stomach do a flip. The Master of Chairs had threatened this very same treatment, not half an hour before.

“After that,” the woman added, “they'll fire 'im up, black 'im to a crisp. How comes you doesn't know that?”

“We're new here, we don't know the local customs yet. By the way, does the word inn have any meaning to you? We're looking for a-”

“Finn …”

Letitia was swaying, much like a sapling in the wind, her mouth sagging open, her eyes rolling back. Finn held her close, caught her before she fell. For a very petite and slender being, she seemed to find a great deal of weight somewhere.

“Come on, come on ,” he whispered, slapping her very lightly on the face, “you cannot do this, Letitia. I simply won't have it, do you hear?”

“Lay the victim down flat,” Julia said, poking her snout through the folds of Finn's cape. “Elevate the feet, slightly higher than the head. Loosen the clothing a bit, apply cool cloths to the wrists and the neck. Linen, now, not sacking or wool, neither cotton nor flax, not-”

“Quiet!” Finn grabbed the lizard's copper nose and pushed her roughly out of sight. “Where do you think we are, in Master Spencer's ward, up on Zod Hill? I am not a physician, Julia, I don't have a healing spell. I don't have any linen, any water, cool or hot. If I lay her down, they'll trample her on the spot. Stay out of sight and let me handle this!”

“Fine, go ahead. I'm only trying to help, doing what I can to save the poor girl's life …”

“I am-quite all right,” Letitia said with a sigh, “no thanks to you two, I must say. Will you let me go , please? I feel quite awkward bent in half like this.”

“We were merely trying to help …”

“Yes, of course you were, you're both such dears.”

Letitia busied herself, straightened a wrinkle here and there, patted Finn's hands and brushed them aside.

“Are you sure you can stand now, love, you're still a bit flushed.”

“No one ever expired from a flush,” she said, fanning herself with both hands. “I expect I'll survive if I can jus-”

Her words were lost as a ragged cheer thundered through the crowd. Letitia gasped, startled by the sound.

“Don't look,” Finn said, moving a step to block her view, “Look at something else.”

“Such as? There is little else to see here, Finn.”

“Look at the street. Those bricks are quite ordinary, but the composition, the design, clearly bear the craftsman's touch.”

“Stop it, Finn, I will not look at bricks. Tell me what they're doing to that poor man now, I can't bear to look myself.”

“Nothing at the moment,” Finn said, craning his neck, standing on his toes. “Oh, dear, now that's not good.”

“What? What?”

“They're poking him. Poking him with sticks.”

“Sticks?”

“Yes. Fairly long sticks.”