The Prophecy Machine (Investments) (36 page)

With desperation as a well-meaning friend, it took Finn little time at all to learn how he might survive in his search for Letitia Louise.

The kitchen was a graveyard of patched, broken, sooty pans and pots. Big pots, little pots, pots of every sort. Kettles made of iron, rusty and red, skillets heavier than lead.

Working with his roll of silver wire, he hurriedly fashioned a garment for the battle to come. The first thing he chose was a thick black kettle for his head. It smelled of Squeen's cooking, but it brought the fierce radiation to a level he could stand.

When he was done, Finn was a kitchen unto himself. Hardly a knight in helm, armor and mail, but one makes do, as they say.

Before he left, he grabbed a collection of knives, some that were reasonably sharp, some that would scarcely cut butter in the sun. A pocketful of candles and a lamp full of fat.

“I'm coming, Letitia,” he said to himself. “Don't be frightened when you see me, love, for I look like a peddler hung with his wares …”

The dining room was in horrid disarray. Table, chairs, dishes and food were crushed into the floor. Finn felt a chill at the sight. The dark extrusion had clearly had its way with the tableware, then rolled into the hall grinding everything to pulp.

The stairs were still intact, no worse than before. He hesitated, drew a deep breath, then ran up as quickly as he could, knowing what a tremor would do if it should catch him there.

Not much more, I suppose, if it catches me anywhere …

The climb took a toll on his foot, but there was little he could do about that. The room where he and Letitia had
slept had disappeared. The hallway was full of debris: walls, floors, bits of ratty carpet, everything tattered and shredded.

Through a gap in the wall he saw a familiar path, a way he and Sabatino had come through before.

“What are you up to now?” he said aloud, as if the younger Nucci could hear. “You'd better be minding your affairs and not mine.”

Finn gave little credit to Nicoretti's nasty hint. Sabatino was not after Letitia, Finn was sure of that. Still, it wasn't the kind of drivel he liked to hear—

A shadow crossed the darkness just ahead. Finn stood perfectly still. Nothing. Whatever it was, it didn't move again. He took another cautious step … Then, with no warning at all, the floor ahead buckled, splintered, and vanished in the darkness far below.

Finn wrapped his arms about a post and held on. The wall shrieked as its timbers twisted out of shape, gave way, and tumbled in the pit that had taken the floor in its maw.

No way forward, then. No way back. Only a small crawlway, a tunnel the machine had yet to touch.

No matter where it leads, there's no place else to go …

Dropping very slowly to his knees, he nearly passed out from the pain. His foot didn't much care for the motion, and instantly let him know.

Once down, he was sure he would never move again. The foot was bad enough, without the encumbrance of skillets, pots, kettles and pans.

He made his way slowly, ever aware of the thrumming hum of the frightful machine.

The tunnel opened abruptly into a larger room. Finn inched forward, pushing his lamp ahead. Everything was familiar in a sense. Surely he'd come this way before, or imagined that he did. The wedge of slated roof that nosed out of the floor, the window on the ceiling where a window
shouldn't be. Shreds of wallpaper hanging limply from the wall, a shattered bit of doorway that—

“You must be the infamous Master Finn. The one who runs off without a thought for his friends …”

“Julia?”

Finn nearly stood, a poor move at best. “Fleas and Bees, where are you, I can't see a thing!”

“That's because there's not a lot to see. Over to your right. You'll have to come here, I can't come to you.”

“You don't sound right. What's the matter with your voice?”

“Quite a bit. It's hard to know where to begin.”

“I'm not in perfect shape myself. And I did not
run off
,you know perfectly well. That old man was—Great Frogs and Logs, Julia,
what happened to you!
”

Finn stared, shaken beyond belief. Shocked, stunned, surprised that the lizard could still be alive.

“Indeed,” Julia said, a shaky rasp to her voice, “I seem to have lost my head. Or, other parts have lost me. Depends on your point of view, I suppose. Finn, you're wearing a lot of pots and pans, but I guess you know that.”

Finn didn't answer. He gazed at Julia, bent nearly to the floor, holding the lamp close to the spot where her head had detached itself from the rest. As a master of his craft, he was fascinated, totally enthralled. As Julia's companion and friend, he was also greatly relieved.

“It's clear I'm even better than I thought,” he said aloud. “Every wire, every spindle, every node detached on impact as it should. Nothing even tore. I made it that way for maintenance, of course. But I never imagined you'd come through something like this. In essence, you could survive quite nicely as a head.”

“Many thanks for the lecture, Dr. Science, now please creep about and find my nether parts. I shouldn't care to be
a head alone. Finn, you've got sticks tied to your foot. Part of your costume, I assume.”

“We don't have time for talk. We've got to find Letitia, and get her out of here.”

“We've got to find
me
,” Julia corrected. “
Then
we'll look for Letitia Louise …”

E
VEN WITH A GREAT SHIELD OF SKILLETS, PANS
and cooking ware, Finn could feel the power, the draw, the inexorable force of the horrid machine that pulled him ever closer, closer still. Though he refused to give it life, denied it conscious will, he could not but feel the thing had some blind purpose, some dark, unknowing intent.

“It may be, if it sees us,” Finn muttered beneath his breath, “it will think us a dread apparition, more frightful than itself …”

“I hope
it
sees us,” Julia said, “and no one else, no one who knows us well. I couldn't stand the humiliation, Finn, looking like this.”

“I doubt we'll meet any neighbors from the Street. I shouldn't think the grocer or the cobbler would ply their wares here.”

“It was only a figure of speech, Finn. I've lost my body, but my wit is still intact.”

“As much as ever, I assume.”

“What, what's that?”

Finn didn't answer. A low arch loomed up ahead, and he had to duck low, an act that played havoc with his knee.

Anyone who saw the pair would likely be appalled, for they were truly a spectacle to see. A limping monster clad in cooking ware. An ogre with a kettle for a top, and, mounted on that, firmly tied in place, a red-eyed lizard head.

Finn had recovered all of Julia's errant parts—torso, legs, a tail bent out of shape, all stuffed into pockets now, for a better time and place.

“You know what I dreamed,” Julia said, “while I was there alone in disarray? I dreamed about the sea, about lives I've never lived, about things I've never seen.”

“You didn't dream, you imagined that you did.”

“Nevertheless, I felt I'd lived a thousand lives, passed a thousand doors, and I'm sure I know why—though the answer's as amazing as the story is itself.

“I am made of precious gems from the corners of the world. Gems, copper, silver, iron and gold, elements of the earth. It is not just humans and Newlies who remember things, Finn.
Everything
does, though I doubt you'd credit that.

“Every garnet, every onyx, every flake of gold, each has a tale, what they've done and where they've been. Now, all their stories, all their ventures, come together in me. All has been revealed in my dreams. Is that not a marvel, Finn, is it not a wondrous thing?”

“No, but if it makes you happy, believe what you will.”

“Why do I bother, why do I expose myself to your abuse? Why do I speak to you at all?”

“Because we are friends, Julia, companions of a sort. And because my pockets are full of all your parts.”

“I'll buy the second half,” said Julia Jessica Slagg. “I'm unsure about the rest, the part about companions and friends …”

“Hush, be silent,” Finn said, pressing his back against the wall, standing perfectly still. “I'll give you something to be sure of, down the hallway there.”

Julia saw them at once, their forms distorted shadows from the fiery torches they waved about.

“Foxers,” Finn said, and added an oath after that. “Damn fools, that's no way to light a place like this, they'll burn the thing down!”

“What on earth are they doing in here, I'd like to know that.”

“I know what they're doing,” Finn said. “They've come to settle with the Nuccis. I can only guess why.”

A flimsy guess at best, and that from a shade who isn't sure if tomorrow is today …

Indeed, Foxers had vanished at a time, though the Coldie named Klunn wasn't sure exactly when. Were the odds good or bad that the Nuccis had a hand in that?

“They're gone,” Julia said. “My uncanny senses tell me they're heading down.”

“Of course they are. Everyone's headed down, that's where this horrid device would have us be.”

“They wore no pots or pans. I'm sure you noticed that.”

“I did, indeed. They're not affected, then. I couldn't say why, except they're not the same as me …”

He staggered, then, with a shudder, a shiver, a chill at the back of his neck. A moan, a cry, from somewhere near, so faint he could scarcely hear.

“There,” Julia said at once, “I see her, Finn. Right there!”

Finn was already on his knees, all his pains forgotten as he drew Letitia up into his arms. So light she was, barely there at all. He knew there would never come a day when he'd not see her lying there, hands clasped tight against her ears, dark eyes glazed with fear.

“Letitia. Letitia Louise …”

He knew, though, she was hardly aware, stupefied by the dread emanations that had caught and held her there.

What if it's too late now, what if her mind is empty, drained of all she's been … ?

He cast the thought aside, refused to let it in. Instead, he loosed an iron pot from his armor, one without a great dent, and fit it carefully on her head, tying it with wire beneath her chin. It couldn't hurt, and might very well help.

He had her now, had them both again, and wouldn't let them go. One was in pieces, one was scarcely whole, but anything broken, Finn believed, could be fixed, patched up, made to work again …

“Finn, wait, you don't want to go there,” Julia said.

“No, and why is that?”

“That's the way the Foxers went. We'd best not run into them again.”

“You weren't listening, were you?” Finn said. “You really ought to try. There's only one way—that foul device has made certain of that …”

“I
DREAMED, F INN.
I'
VE NEVER HAD SUCH A WON
derful, frightful dream. I thought I was only me, then I saw I was everything that was, everything that could possibly ever be.

“I looked through a million eyes, saw a million lives. I almost saw the poor thing I'd been before. That's when the dream wasn't good anymore, it got awful after that. I didn't want to know, I didn't want to be that again …”

“Everyone's having dreams, it seems. I never cared for them myself. They were either so good I didn't want to wake up, or so bad I thought I never would.”

“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 …