A Riddle in Bronze, page 27
"Look out, it's coming apart!"
Roberta's cry was barely in time. I turned to see one support from the machine's outer frame flapping wildly, the six-inch oak beam moving like a twig in a hurricane. Roberta was scrabbling backwards on all fours, trying to get clear, but had barely gone six feet when the entire ramshackle machine was torn apart. Solid oak beams flew outwards like oversized javelins, scattering smaller pieces all over the floor. One of these struck Roberta on the side of the head, luckily just a glancing blow, but it was enough to knock her unconscious. Others slammed into the walls, some piercing the brickwork with ear-shattering blows. Just as I thought the worst was over, the spinning array of orange-segments at the heart of the machine lurched free.
The core spun like a top, moving first this way and then the other. I thought it was going to run into Roberta's unconscious form, and feared the fast-spinning segments would chew her body apart. Fortunately, it ran into fallen debris, and changed direction. Still spinning at hellish speed, the core moved towards the nearest wall, where it struck with a chattering sound before disintegrating against the brickwork. Fragments flew the length and breadth of the warehouse, and it was a miracle none of us were struck.
I began to breathe again, until I realised the only illumination in the room had come from the machine's core, and now that it was destroyed the warehouse was in near darkness. Worse, I could see a dozen phantasms advancing on us, splitting up so as to reach the three of us at once. The large demons were dead, but it seemed the spirits had not finished with us yet. These were visible to the naked eye, and I guessed they were more powerful than any phantasm I had encountered before.
I looked around for the professor's sword, but it was hopeless. Why, I could barely see a hand waved in front of my face! And as for the pistol, it was worse than useless against ghosts. I began to back away from the encroaching spirits, but to either side of me I knew the professor and Roberta were both lying helpless. I had a vague idea of the professor's location, and as he'd been carrying the sword I decided to try and reach him. Movement was next to impossible, and I stumbled over fragments of the machine, tripped on pieces of wooden beam, and almost rolled my ankle on a stray metal bolt, which skidded from underfoot as I trod on it.
Then my foot encountered something soft, and I crouched to feel the professor's unconscious form. Working outwards, I sought the weapon he must have dropped nearby. All the while I glanced over my shoulder at the spirits, which were steadily moving closer. They made no sound, and to me that was all the more frightening.
I got further and further from the professor, while the three groups of spirits advanced on each of us. Even as I felt around, my desperation growing, I saw the first group reach Roberta. I prayed the awful fish-scented elixir would deter them, but either it had worn off, or these phantasms were stronger-willed. They didn't even hesitate, their ghostly fingers reaching for her, clutching at her unconscious body, and I saw one phantasm reaching right into her chest. I wanted to run across, screaming at them, but I knew that sword was our only hope. Without it, we were all doomed.
To my horror I saw that ghostly hand withdrawing, and a gleaming strand of light came with it. Roberta's back arched, her chest thrusting upwards, and I saw her moving uncontrollably as the very soul was torn from her body. Then I heard the professor groaning nearby, and I turned to see a spirit perched above his chest also, tugging and pulling at a similar strand of light.
I knew instinctively that once the bond between that strand of light and the host body was broken, there would be no coming back. At that point, Roberta and the professor would be dead.
I cast around frantically, with no thought for my own safety, and I cried out with relief as my fingers encountered something cold and narrow. I felt along the thing in both directions, and when I felt the leather-wrapped grip I realised to my delight that I had finally located the professor's sword. Standing up, I activated it and brandished it at the closest spirits, all of which drew back in fear.
That's when the true horror of the situation dawned on me. Already, the strand from Roberta's chest was weakening, and I knew she had but seconds to live. But she was sixty feet to my right, while to my left, forty feet in the opposite direction, lay the professor. His strand too was weakening, and he was just as close to death.
I knew then that I could only reach one of them in time. I knew then that one of them was going to die.
Just as the woman in my dream had warned me: You can only save one.
Chapter 34
With no time for a rational decision I let instincts take over, and suddenly I was running towards Roberta, shouting and brandishing my sword. As I sprinted across the warehouse floor, the tails of my coat flapping behind me, I tried to justify my decision. Roberta was younger and fitter than the professor, and if I managed to revive her, the two of us might still save him. She had more life ahead of her. The demon might have quite taken the professor's wits away, leaving him as near death as made no difference.
All of these excuses sounded weak, even to me, but I refused to admit to myself that maybe, just maybe, I was choosing to save Roberta because of some ill-fated romantic notions on my part.
I took the last three steps towards the spirits menacing Roberta, my sword raised to strike. In that split second the terrifying tableau was imprinted on my mind. A vibrant cloud of pure energy was coalescing in mid-air between the three spirits, and it was connected to Roberta by a thin, twisting spiral of the same material. On the ground, Roberta was turning her head this way and that, mumbling incoherently as her back arched to an impossible angle. While the first spirit continued to draw this life force from her very body, the other two spirits appeared to be suckling on the cloud of energy, as though trying to consume Roberta's essence.
Well, I would soon put a stop to that!
The forked tip of the sword plunged into the first spirit, and there was a vivid flash as it pierced the filmy, veil of a body. The spirit flew back like a curtain blowing in the wind, distorted and flapping wildly in its desperate attempt to escape. The other two were still feasting, and I turned the sword on them, jabbing and thrusting like an enraged musketeer. Sparks flew from the tip of my weapon, and the ghostly spirits retreated instantly, disgorging long streamers of Roberta's life force. Even as I stood over her body, defending her from the phantasms, she relaxed her spine. Then, to my eternal relief, the coalescing energy cloud began to return to her, seeking its rightful home.
I glanced across at the professor, and to my despair I saw three spirits heading away from him. Even at this distance, I could see they carried his life force with them, the vibrant cloud entirely in their possession with no trace of connection to the professor's inert body. Slowly, they descended into the floor itself, until they disappeared. The professor was gone, then. Lost to us. Only his body remained, lifeless and somehow smaller and more vulnerable than I expected.
I was struck forcibly by his death, but there was no time to grieve. We had been facing nine spirits in total, and the three I had not yet faced were approaching me from behind. Also, the three I'd driven away from Roberta were growing bold, returning inch by inch. I stepped over her and waved the sword at the spirits as they got closer and closer, but even though the forked tip made contact, it no longer had any effect. My heart sinking, I realised Roberta and I would soon join the professor if I did not think up a new defence.
Flash!
Lightning struck the building, infusing the remains of Edgar's machine with power. The thick wooden beams were long gone, but the metal cage, bent and twisted, sparked and crackled with electrical energy. It was maybe twenty feet behind me, and it gave me an idea.
I crouched, taking Roberta's hand firmly in mine, and slowly I dragged her backwards across the wooden floor. The spirits drifted after us as we made for the ruined attractor, all six now having joined forces. Now and then one of them darted forward, and I jabbed wildly with the sword to keep them at bay.
I could now hear the crackling of the ruined machine right behind me, the metal frame still drawing power from some unknown source. Touch it, and I knew Roberta and I would be killed instantly. But that was not my intention.
Judging I was close enough, I turned to examine the charred and twisted remains of the machine. Metal bars protruded from the wreckage, fat electrical sparks arcing between several of them to fill the air with noise. Then I turned to look at the advancing spirits, and to my horror I saw that they had hemmed us in, pinning us against the device. Even now, two of them were preparing to drive their ghostly hands into Roberta's chest, and another was reaching for me. They were so close they overlapped, forming a glowing wall of ghostly bodies.
I looked down at the sword, then over my shoulder, and I knew this was our only chance. Taking the sword carefully by the leather-wrapped grip, I touched the metal pommel against the nearest piece of metalwork. There was a crackle as they made contact, and I almost dropped the thing as I felt a surge of immense power through the grip. The sword glowed as tracers of electricity ran up the blade, and all of a sudden the forked tip of the weapon shone like the midday sun, bathing the gloomy interior of the warehouse with wholesome golden light. This grew brighter and brighter, forcing me to narrow my eyes to mere slits, and then six bolts of lightning shot out from the end. Each took up a phantasm and drove it backwards in a heartbeat, shredding the ghostly bodies like dandelion heads, and leaving only the merest trace of the foul beings twisting and tumbling in the glare.
The golden glow faded, with only the crackling, sparking machine behind me to light the scene. I discovered the sword had grown red hot, the heat even now radiating uncomfortably through the leather wrapping, and I dropped the thing hurriedly. Then I crouched next to Roberta, feeling her wrist for a pulse.
"Septimus?" she murmured.
Relieved, I broke into a smile. "They're gone," I said.
"And father?"
My heart stilled, for in the events of the past few minutes I had entirely forgotten the professor. "I—I'm sorry. He—"
Roberta threw off my hand and struggled up. "He what?"
"The spirits." I hung my head. "They… took him."
"No!" she breathed. Before I could stop her, she scrambled to her feet and ran towards the professor's crumpled form. She threw herself upon him, her head to his chest, and my blood ran cold as she let out an unearthly, wailing cry.
I felt my heart go out to Roberta as she sobbed uncontrollably, her face buried in her father's chest. I wanted to approach, to offer what little comfort I could, but I knew there might still be danger lurking in that accursed warehouse. The stronger spirits had been vanquished, but lesser phantasms might be surrounding us at that very moment. The first we would know of it would be their cold, ghostly touch.
As Roberta's cries of grief rang out, I made my way to the haversacks containing our equipment. I searched them quickly and located the spectacles with the twin lenses, which I pressed to my nose. Then, with my nerves a-jangle, I scanned the gloomy interior of the warehouse for enemies. I saw Roberta immediately, her body enveloped in a vibrant aura. Then I frowned and looked again, for there was a second aura beside her, lying on the ground. I removed the spectacles, looked with my naked eye, then replaced them. There could be no doubt, it was the professor's body giving off the aura, faint though it was. I was on the point of crying out to Roberta, but then my hopes were dashed as I realised it was no more than a latent image. My face grim, I turned away to inspect the rest of the warehouse, verifying that we were indeed alone.
Or were we?
I looked towards a nearby section of floor, an area through which I knew the phantasms had carried the professor's life force. The merest hint of a glowing line protruded through the floor, a strand as thin as sewing cotton. I approached cautiously, and observed that the line led away towards Roberta and the professor. I peered over the top of my glasses at it, lest it were merely some trick of the light, but it promptly vanished. Then, using the eyeglasses once more, I began to follow the thin, winding trail. As I approached Roberta she turned her tear-stained face towards me, and that's when I noticed the terminating point of this fine strand of light. It was attached to the professor!
I dropped to my knees, hardly daring to hope. Easing Roberta aside, I pressed the side of my head to the professor's chest, listening intently.
Nothing… nothing… nothing… Thud!
I waited several seconds for a second beat, just to confirm my suspicions, and the moment I heard it I turned to Roberta, taking her hands in mine. She stared at me in confusion, and I could barely form the words as I burst out with the truth. "Your father's life force is still attached, albeit by the thinnest thread imaginable. Roberta… he lives!"
– — Ω — –
Roberta stared at me, then bent to listen for herself. "Oh, you surely are a tough old goat," she murmured lovingly, and then she stood, suddenly businesslike. "Come, we must hurry if we are to save him."
"Yes, but to where?" I asked. "They carried his life force directly through a solid floor!"
"And what do you think lies beneath that floor?" demanded Roberta.
I hazarded a guess. "A cellar?"
"If so, there will be a trapdoor."
I picked up the sword and handed it to her, and then I took the revolver from my pocket. It was useless against spirits, but I knew Edgar might still be lurking. If he tried to prevent me from saving the professor I would shoot him dead without hesitation.
Together we made our way around the perimeter of the warehouse, stepping over fallen oak beams and scattered bricks. Finally we found what we were looking for: a square trapdoor with a recessed iron handle. We lifted it, only to turn our heads as a dank smell rose from the darkness below. "A cellar, or a sewer?" I remarked.
There were wide steps below, rough stone ones, and Roberta and I descended them arm in arm. I still wore the glasses, but the glow from the sword's forked tip gave just enough light to see by. When we reached the bottom we turned left, away from the wall, and Roberta gripped my arm. "Do you see it?" she demanded.
I did indeed, for the faint trail came through the ceiling above and led away into the darkness. After pointing the way, we followed the trail for a dozen steps or more, passing several broken, rotting barrels alive with the rustle and scurry of rats. The trail seemed to grow lighter as we continued, and then it stopped completely. I removed the glasses to see a brick wall across our path, stretching from one side of the cellar to the other.
"Well?" demanded Roberta.
I turned to her, my buoyant mood suddenly brought low. "It goes right through," I said quietly. "I'm sorry, Roberta. I think… I think we really have lost him."
She snorted. "Really, Septimus? You give up so easily?"
"I do not wish to!" I said heatedly. "But you and I cannot pass through solid rock!"
"You would think so, but I have lived in this city longer than you. Come, there is still time."
Taking my hand in hers, she led me up the steps and out of the cellar. In the warehouse we paused only to collect our things, and then I looked towards the professor's unnaturally still form. "Should we… I mean, do you think it will be all right to leave him?"
"It pains me, but we cannot take him with us," said Roberta evenly. "In any case, first we must escape this prison ourselves, for if I am not mistaken dearest cousin Edgar locked the door as he departed."
She was correct, because the metal entry door was sealed tight. After giving it a hefty kick or two, Roberta uttered an oath. Then she turned to look along the brick wall, which had been pierced in several places by oak beams from the destroyed machine. "Help me lift one of those," she said. "Perhaps we can finish the job it started."
We laid down our weapons and picked up the nearest beam, staggering under the weight. We carried it away from the wall, and then ran towards it with the beam held under our arms in the manner of a battering ram. We were aiming at a section which had already been holed, and the end of the beam struck the damaged brickwork with a sickening blow, knocking a dozen bricks flying. Repeating our efforts, we soon made a hole large enough to climb through. Roberta scrambled through first, and once she was on the other side she took the haversacks from me. Then I followed, clutching the weapons.
The rain and thunder had ceased, but the air was chill and a dense mist rose from the cobbles, making it hard to see. Each streetlamp was like a beacon in the darkness, and we hurried from one to the next, completely alone in that deathly quiet part of the city. I glanced around, still fearful that the scar-faced man might seek his revenge on us.
"Edgar does not have the brains for this," said Roberta suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"He was not a great thinker," she said. "In addition, he was a follower, not a leader. Septimus, there is someone else behind all of this, you may take my word on it."
"Someone worse?" I asked her. "That idea is troubling indeed."
"Whoever it is, they will not take my father from me," declared Roberta, her face grim and determined. "Ah, here is our destination."
Chapter 35
I stopped, for directly ahead of us was the red brick building of a station. The name above the entrance read Westminster, and there were metal gates below, closed and padlocked. Beyond these was Stygian darkness of the most oppressive kind. "The underground!" I said in astonishment, for suddenly all was clear. "But… it's closed for the night!"
"You think I mean to buy tickets?" asked Roberta, with a weak smile. She led me towards the locked gates, and after looking up and down the road to make sure we were not observed, she set to work with a slender piece of metal taken from the knapsack. It took her a minute or two, but eventually there was a metallic click and the padlock came free. The chain rattled as she withdrew it, and then we passed through, quickly closing the gate behind us.
