Neal Barrett Jr. - The Prophecy Machine

Finn tapped lightly on the dry and weathered wood. A tap, he reasoned, would surely suffice. A very small number called for a tap, not a knock or a rap of any kind.

No answer, so Finn tried again. Lightly still, but somewhat stronger this time.

In the cramped and narrow way, there was hardly any sky overhead. What little there was, was closer to darkness than to day. Finn was nearly sure he saw a star, and his heart beat faster at the sight. Night, and there he was, caught in an alley, Letitia far away …

The door seemed to open by itself. Magic, Finn thought, then saw it was hanging by a nail, close to falling off, not exactly a spell.

The room was very dim, lit by a single candle against a far wall. The air inside was close, musty, dusty and chill. Finn smelled ginger, nutmeg and pepper, bitterroot and lemon, every kind of spice.

There was also the hint of something else-oils, powders, scents that were musky, scents that were slightly, wonderfully wild …

Finn puzzled to define these aromas, pondered for a second and a half, knew, of a sudden, why each was familiar, why he knew them well-

“Buttons and Snaps,” he whispered to himself, “everything in here smells like Letitia Louise!”

“-All right, you're here,” said a voice from somewhere, “what do you want with me?”

Finn nearly jumped out of his skin, tried, at once, to hide his apprehension, knew it was too late for that.

“I'm sorry I startled you,” the someone said, who wasn't truly sorry at all. A voice with a gentle, soft sibilation, a whisper, a sigh, or possibly a lisp.

“Sit down. There's a stool to your right. You don't have to see it, you can feel it in the dark. Now. Answer my question, and answer it now. I know who you are, I think I know why you're here. I hope to high heaven I'm wrong about that. Not too likely, I fear. Snake pokes his ugly head through the veil if it's something really bad. Takes a great joy in that, though I can't fathom why.”

Snake? Better not ask …

“You've a lot to answer for. Everyone in town's raving on about me, and you're the cause, Finn. Where did you hear that name, I'd like to know that?”

“Rubinella? That's who I'm to ask for. That note, I know it came from you.”

“Of course it did, boy. You haven't answered me. Who gave the name to you?”

“Letitia,” Finn said, squinting to see some movement in the dark, “Letitia Louise. My wife. She's a Mycer too, you see-”

“I know who she is. I didn't know her name, but I know she's with you. Everyone in town knows about you two, don't you realize that?”

The voice from the darkness was harsh, intense, quite out of patience, and not at all happy with Finn.

“It was she, then, who told you to seek me. Snake should have told me this. She said something else. What exactly was that?”

“To tell Rubinella that-To tell her we needed help, that we needed a seer. Letitia-Letitia's mother, was Liliana, of the Phileas Clan. I was supposed to mention that.”

“Yes, I see.”

The voice was somewhat gentler now, not what Finn would call friendly, but neither so cautious, anxious nor strained.

“The Phileas Clan is strong. Good blood. The males are somewhat hasty, irresponsible at times. The females somewhat-assertive, I suppose. Too inclined to take up with human men.”

Finn felt the color rise to his face, and wondered if the seer could sense that, too.

A laugh, almost-more than she'd granted so far. Somewhere on the edge, throaty but nice, a bit, Finn decided, like Letitia Louise.

“Do you know, Finn, what ‘Rubinella’ means? You have no inkling, I don't know why I asked.”

“It's a name, I suppose. I wouldn't know what it means.”

“It's not a person's name, and it's certainly not mine. It's a Mycer word that means ‘Lady with the power in her hands.’ Your Letitia Louise knows that. The common tongue has twisted it into something else. Anyone in town, Newlie and human alike, will swear it means ‘Mycer-witch-woman-who-can-make-all-your-privates-fall-off.’”

Finn felt the heat again. “Trees and Bees, I surely didn't know that.”

“There's much you don't know, Master Finn.”

“And can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Make their, ah, you-know-whats fall off?”

“You want an honest answer? I don't think so. Listen to me, Finn. Life is not a jest, and your wit is not appreciated here. Not by me, and not by others who are present as well. Your next question's who , and we won't go into that.

“Again, I strongly suggest you spend your time with me-with us, in an earnest and serious quest.”

“I'll-yes, I certainly will,” Finn said, glancing through the darkness at the walls, at the ceiling, searching everywhere, not as anxious for answers as he'd been only moments before.

“Since you entered, I've been getting an image, a very faint picture, closer to a vapor, closer to a blur.”

The Mycer hesitated, and when she spoke again the tension in her voice was clear.

“What I see is bad. Very bad, I fear. I've known that something was wrong in this town for years. Even a child who has a touch of the gift can see that. Sometimes a portal winks open, and the sound of evil leaks out. I knew it was here, but I didn't know where. Your appearance has given me the answer to that.

“Your Letitia was right. It is in that-in that house . The bad thing is there …!”

“What-what is it?” Finn sat on the edge of his stool. “Tell me what you see.”

“I don't see a thing.”

“What?”

“I can't see anything, are you listening or not? It's there, but it's in a blanket spell. I can't get through it. Neither can Snake, or anyone else.”

“Under a spell …” “Under a blanket spell. A blanket covers everything up. You can't see a thing under there.”

“But it's bad.”

“Oh, it's bad. Bad's a good start. I think it's worse than that. Anyone who can do a blanket spell, one that's keeping me out, that's someone-or something-to look out for.”

“And you don't know who it is. Who's using magic like that?”

The seer let out a breath. “Are you impaired in the head? How did you ever charm a bright and lovely Mycer girl? I-Never mind, let me guess.”

“No, I don't know who cast the spell and I doubt I ever will. Don't you see that? Someone who can blanket a house is good enough to hide themselves.”

“I didn't think of that.”

“I don't suppose you did.”

“Yes, but-” Finn was so pleased with the thought, he nearly stood up. “Listen, I think I can help. I've been there, I've seen what you're talking about. I can tell you what it is!”

The seer was very still. Finn thought he heard her breathe. “Well, I'm listening. Please enlighten me, then.”

“Of course. What it is, and no offense-but I doubt it's that important at all-is sort of a prufa-fuffa-gigeegaaka-geeb-”

Finn froze, horrified by the chaos in his mouth. He tried once more, tried to get it right, but the words got tangled every time.

“I can't,” he said, desperate and truly frightened now. “It's there, but I can't spit it out!”

“I sensed you had the image, and I know you cannot let it go. This is very bad indeed …”

“Would you stop saying that, please? That's not helping at all.”

The seer moved then, and he could almost see her, a shadow against the greater dark.

“There's no more I can do. Not now. But listen to me, Finn. What you see, what you've encountered is not what you think, not what you think it is at all. You must, truly, understand that, above all else. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes. I greatly fear I am.”