Neal Barrett Jr. - The Prophecy Machine

“Thank you for finding me, love. I think I was gone an awfully long time.”

“Much too long, Letitia. Any time at all is too long for me.”

“I think I'll try and sleep some more.”

“I think that's a bad idea. I'd rather you'd stay awake, dear.”

It was too late, though, she was gone once again.

Finn was relieved that she'd come to her senses, but not at all sure she was wholly herself, that something wasn't missing somewhere. Time, he was certain, would chase any frights from her head. He vowed he would hold onto that.

The way was most confusing now. Either that, or the howl and the clatter of the horrid device had loosened every nerve in his head. Right seemed left, and left seemed right. Letitia had been light at the start, but she was quite heavy now. That, and his foot, and the kettles and skillets that constantly weighed him down …

Sometimes he was certain he'd gone to sleep himself, but Julia seemed to squawk if he tried to nod off. How could she manage such a feat ? he asked himself. She couldn't see him from her perch, and her senses weren't as fine as that …

“Damn it all, Finn, watch where you're about. You're as loud as that miserable device.”

Finn jerked awake at once. “Sab-Sabatino! What are you doing here?”

“Please, craftsman, not the obvious. What is any one doing here? Ah, you found the lady, I see. I'm so glad, I was most distressed. Heavens, what happened to your lizard?”

“What I'm doing, dear fellow, since you feel you have to ask, is trying to get down to that thing. These pesky Foxers keep getting in the way. They're thick as flies, you see.

“Ah, watch your step here,” he said, brandishing his blade. “I've caught one or two, possibly three.”

“I'd say three's correct,” Finn said, holding his lantern up high. Three dark figures slumped in untidy lumps against the wall.

“Clearly, the Foxers know you're here. If they're as many as you say …”

“Doesn't matter, I have to go. Father's down there, I'm sure. He and I have to settle things, once and for all.”

Finn didn't like the sound of that.

Then, down the narrow hallway, past some forgotten wall, the thunder and the rumble, the howl and the shiver of the awful device shook the ancient house. Finn felt that if he didn't hold on, he'd be quickly swept away.

“Dr. Nicoretti told me about your mother. I'm sorry she passed away.”

Sabatino looked annoyed. “This is ill-timed, Finn. And you're a bit late with your concern, which is none of your business, anyway. Uncle has a very big mouth.”

“Why do you think the Foxers are here? What did the Nuccis do, what happened in the past?”

“What happens,” Sabatino said, his eyes dark with anger in the dim lamplight, “if I stick you in the belly right here? Who'd ever know, and who'd ever care?”

“Me, for one. You, for another. If I'm not here, you'll have to take the Foxers on yourself.”

Sabatino looked delighted. He hadn't thought of that.

“Let's get at it then, brother in arms. Can the pretty stand by herself, or will you carry her into combat?”

“I can stand just fine,” Letitia said, possibly awake for some time. “And don't call me a pretty , that's not all I am.”

“My pardon, then,” Sabatino said with a bow. “I am in your debt, ma'am.”

“You're in the soup, both of you,” Julia said with a screech and a howl, “if you don't take heed right now!”

The Foxers were on them then as quickly as that, making odd little sounds, little coughs, little hacks, waving their blades about. And, Finn noted, wearing their silly black masks, so no one could guess just who they might be …

Sabatino gave a cry and lunged into the fray. Finn, hampered by his armor and the need to set Letitia down, was a second too late, a second too slow. Before he could act, he took a hard blow atop his head.

The kettle rang like a bell, rending him deaf and scrambling what little there was left of his wits. The Foxer, nearly as stunned as Finn, stared at this strange apparition that had nearly dented his blade.

Finn felled him with a skillet, took the fellow's sword, and tossed away his kitchenware.

“That lout missed me by a hair,” Julia squawked, “could you watch it down there?”

“If you don't like it, you can walk.”

“Fine way to treat a warrior, wounded in the field …”

Finn turned a plucky Foxer aside, sending him sprawling to the floor. Booted one soundly down the hall. Another popped up to take his place, then another, and another after that.

They came now in a horde, in a throng, in a rabble, in a swarm. As quickly as he put one down, a comrade took his place.

“Back! Back!” Sabatino shouted beside him. “We can't hold them, Finn!”

A glance told Finn the fellow was right. The narrow passage was full of Foxers struggling to get at their foes. He grabbed Letitia, pushed her behind him, fended off a Foxer again.

“Stay behind me,” Sabatino said, “we've the advantage now, the louts don't have room to fight.”

“They'll give up soon, I'll bet.”

“No time for foolery now, this is somewhat serious, Finn.”

With that, Sabatino lashed out, ripping a Foxer from gullet to chin. Finn saw he'd found a blade himself, and was making it count.

Thrust, parry, kick and collide. One down, but another at his side.

“I'm thankful we have the advantage,” he said, “or they'd have our lovely hides …”

“Finn! Watch your step!”

Finn turned half about and nearly fell. The hall ahead had crumbled, leaving a ragged maw, a gaping hole full of broken brick and stone, choked with dusty air.

And, with a horror and a chill, he saw the way led down, down steep and narrow stairs, and knew at once, even before Letitia screamed, he was in the machine's dark and deadly lair again.

“I can't,” Letitia cried, “I can't go down there!”

“We have to,” he shouted over the awful din, “stay close to me, and keep your kettle on.”

Down, then, Foxers slashing affront, the howling maelstrom below, a rumble, a throb, a dread palpitation that ripped into the very soul.

It was all Finn could do to fight off the foe and keep Letitia in hand, for the thing down there had her firmly in its grasp. She fought, thrashed, lashed out to break free, no longer in control of her will.

It was as Finn had feared-from the moment she'd stepped into that dread abode before, he knew the thing had taken some hold upon his love … now, it was determined to take her down, have her as its own.

You won't, though, damn you, not while there's a breath of life in me …

Still, she struck out blindly, kicked, clawed, hammered with her fists. She was not his Letitia but a wild and frightened creature, senses all adrift, reason gone astray, a stranger he scarcely knew.

Then, as the Foxers spilled down the darkened stairs, driving their foes ever back, back under hopeless, impossible odds, Finn, over his shoulder, saw the twisting passage give way to the horrid den itself, into the storm, into the din of the hellish scene below …

The Foxers saw it too, saw, in the midst of the fury and the deafening swell, the beast, the wretch, the one whose blood they thirsted for. At the sight they loosed a terrible cry, an awesome surge of rage, frenzy, hatred so strong it seemed a near visible thing that fouled the very air.

And in that very moment, in the echo of the Foxers' savage wail, Finn heard a cry of such sorrow, anger and regret, he could scarcely believe it came from Sabatino himself.

Holding fast to Letitia, he followed the fellow's gaze, and saw the brunt of the Foxers' ire, a mad, pitiful thing, shorn of his senses, a man with an empty, witless smile. Calabus, naked as a babe, sat amidst his gold array of nozzles, spigots, founts and tubes and spouts, clever little mouths that spat endless whorls of wisdom, secrets of tomorrow, visions of the future that only he could comprehend … sat there in a stupor, in a daze of childish wonder as the ribbons and the strips, as the ceaseless tongues of paper tried to drown him in their coils …