Necroscope - The Lost Years, Vol II Part 13

'Quickly, now,' Tony told them. Take her down to the pit and wait there for us. But don't go in until we're there.' And as they left he turned to Francesco. That all went very well.'

'Hmmm? Do you think so?' Francesco seemed distant, absent-minded; his thoughts were elsewhere.

'What?' Tony frowned at him. 'But whaf s this? Don't tell me you're actually missing her!' The other stood straighten 'Perhaps, perhaps not. I don't know. But one thing is for sure: she's sleeping the last sleep, the Sleep of Change. My fault, I know. But whether I "miss" her or not isn't relevant. What is relevant is that we can't afford another Ferenczy in the house - and certainly not a Lady!'

'Good!' Tony nodded, and his eyes were feral in the gloom and glowed red in their cores. 'For a moment there... why, I thought you'd gone soft on me!'

Francesco smiled, however grimly. 'Soft? Ah, no. Julietta was just... so accessible. Having her here made it all so very easy. I suppose I'm basically lazy, that's all. But miss her? I shall miss f.u.c.king her, be sure. She was so very good at it!'

Brian Lumtey 132.

133.

'But then, you taught her,' Tony chuckled.

Well yes, there's that, of course!' Francesco laughed.

With which, they followed the bearers down to the pit...

In the lowest levels of Le Manse Madonie - in the very bowels of the place, mainly a natural cavern, but in part carved from the bedrock -the mouth of the pit was like a well, with walls of old hewn masonry three feet high. Indeed, it had been a well in the early days of Le Manse, many hundreds of years ago, when it had drawn water from an old cyst in the volcanic rock all of eighty feet deeper still.

Now the Francezcis stood at the rim of the pit and paused to consider what they were about And quietly, a little uncertainly, Tony said: 'Our Julietta - or rather, your Julietta - is hardly pure.'

'Pure?' Francesco shrugged. "Who is, these days? Show me a good-looking virgin in Palermo over sixteen years old, and FD show you a liar!'

Well, true,' his brother mused. 'But still, you know how he likes them. And she's not even clean - not scrup ulously - as he is used to them.'

'What?' Francesco was short-tempered at the best of times, and this wasn't the best of times. "What are you suggesting? We should have purged her, perhaps? Put her through the usual ritual and chanced waking her up prematurely? I mean, in case you hadn't noticed, brother, our Julietta - or mine, if you will - is Wamphyri!

She could do severe damage! I'm not worried about us, you and I, but the men, our lieutenants. The last thing we want is to lose someone at this stage of the game.'

'What stage of the game is that?' Tony was suddenly pessimistic; unusual, for he was normally the optimist 'Has there been some subtle yet remarkable change in the last two or three years? Did I miss something?' ...

Pessimistic, and sarcastic.

'Yesssf his brother hissed, rounding on Tony, glaring at hi m from eyes as red as h.e.l.l. The time has changed, narrowing down to his f.u.c.king time! Radu Lykan's time! And the grotesque thing in this b.l.o.o.d.y pit has changed: Angelo, our dear father, more unreliable, and more demanding than ever. And ou r fortune has been depleted, which we still haven't done anything about. And worldwide the Families are... they're laughing behind our backs! I don't know about you, but I can feel it! And since we started asking questions about this British E-Branch, and this Harry Keogh, and this f.u.c.king Alec Kyle - questions about dead men, for f.u.c.k's sake -the CIA, and the KGB, and everyone else we used to use don't want to know us! Then there's this Drakul "sect" in England and Scotland, and our man's report more than three months old now, and we still haven't done anything about that either! What? And does it amuse you to ask has something f.u.c.king changed?' 'Calm down, calm down!' Tony sighed. 'All right, so things have changed. But that's not what I meant Or maybe it is. It's just that I'm sick of the inactivity... of that and everything else: all the things you mentioned.

Yes, that's right: I'm just as sick and frustrated as you! And as if that weren't enough, I now have to talk to him, try to get some sense out of him?

'Huh? Francesco grunted, at least part-mollified. "Well, I have to admit I don't envy you that But that's the way it is. He won't even acknowledge me!'

'Which is why I wondered if giving him Julietta will do us any good.'

Then stop wondering,' Francesco answered. 'Instead, just ask yourself this: what good will she do us undead?

For thaf s what she'll be if we let her wake up - and Wamphyri! So then, it's settled: she's Angelo's. And all that remains-'

'-Is the barg aining,' Tony nodded. "Yes, I know.'

'And anyway, it's probably best this way.' In a rare show of camaraderie - a show, at least - Francesco actually put his arm across his brother's shoulder, which Tony at once shrugged off.

What's best?' he asked, suspiciously.

That you're the one Angelo talks to. I mean, he was ever difficult, our father, but never more so than now.

Lef s face it my temper is too short; I haven't the patience to... well, play with him. But you were always good at his word games. And anyway, he likes you.'

'Huhr Tony grunted. That's a compliment, is it?' Plainly he was nervous; the way he licked his lips, kept glancing into the deeps of the well, or more properly the pit Thaf s supposed to make me feel better about it eh?'

Francesco narrowed his eyes and said, What is it? You're afraid? But what of? I mean, this is hardly the first time that you've-'

'You just don't understand, do you?' Tony glanced at him, cutting him short 'No, this isn't the first time, or even the tenth or twentieth that I've had to talk to him like this. But recently... every time is worse that the last time. Don't you realize that when I go into Angelo Ferenczy's mind, or let him into mine, the kind of jeopardy I place myself in?' And before Francesco could answer, if he would: "Yes, you're right I was always cl oser to him. I was able to "get on" with him, and he seeme d to be genuinely "fond" of me. But do you think I don't worry about that too? Well, I do, Francesco. I do...'

'Eh? How, worried?' Francesco frowned. That he could harm you in some way? But if the re's one of us he might want to harm it would have to be me. I honestly believe he hates me! And anyway, he can't hurt either one of us from this pit'

Well, at least you're consistent' Tony sighed patiently, shakin g his134.

135.

head at what he obviously saw as the other's naivety. 'For more than three hundred years you've never thought of him as anything other than a monster in a pit.'

'Wrong!' Francesco answered. 'I've also thought of him as our father - and I've loathed the idea that we were sp.a.w.ned of that thing! But what happened to him was bound to happen. Why, even his twin was a monster, smothered at birth and burned as a freak. And do you know what has preyed on my mind these centuries, brother? It shouldn't be too hard to guess. That we are of t he same fl es.h.!.+ And is it waiting for us, too? Given time, will our metamorphism also run rampant, reducing us to so much lapping, filthy protoplasm?'

Now Tony gripped his arm. 'Almost!' he snapped. 'For a moment there you almost had it. But you left out one very important word. So much lapping, filthy, sentient protoplasm! And one other thing, Francesco: the fact that he's Wamphyri!'

'Eh?' Again Francesco's eyes were wide, puzzled, staring.

'And what are the traits of the Wamphyri?'

The other's expression changed at once. 'A word game,' he sneered. This has to be a word game! Why, you're as bad as he is! We can't even hold a simple conversation without...'

'Indulge me,' Tony insisted. The traits of the Wamphyri?'

Francesco shook himself loose. "Very well, if it's the only way we can go on from here. According to that thing in his pit, the Wamphyri were known for their greed, l.u.s.t, lies and territorialism.'

'And?

'Eh?'

'And their tenacity.1" Tony snarled. 'Now do you see? It's what I meant when I said you almost had it For you pointed out that he had "sp.a.w.ned" us" - without mentioning that we were only his bloodsons!'

Francesco shook his head. 'I still don't underst-'

1-He still has his leech!' Tony cut him short 'His leech? But by now... surely that too, has devolved to so much- ?'

'No, for if that were so he simply wouldn't want to go on. His leech is his tenacity, the only thing that keeps him going. And his leech still has its egg!'

'Is that what concerns you? But you are already Wamphyri! Angelo's leech or egg can't couldn't possibly, get into you.'

'I know, I know,' Tony was pale now, paler than ever. Tfet just recently, whenever I'm obliged to talk to him - like now -1 get this feeling that he's... waiting.'

Waiting?'

'Waiting, planning, watching! Don't ask me what for. Ill tell you something, though: I think we were d.a.m.ned lucky to get him down into this place in the first place.'

'Huhf Francesco snorted. 'He was the lucky one. A hundred and more time s we could have done away with him during the final years of his devolution. And for that matter, we could do it even now! Send down a fifty-gallon drum of kerosene, a stick of dynamite... no more Angelo Ferenczy to get concerned about!'

'And no more oracle," Tony answered him. 'No more powerbase. That's the logic of the defeatist, brother. Ten minutes ago you started raving when I asked you what had changed. All right, I was being flippant. But you pointed out that the Families were starting to laugh at us behind our backs; also that various intelligence agencies are backing off from us. But how much more rapidly would they desert us without Angelo?'

'Except for one small detail,' Francesco answered , yo ur logic is impeccable. That small detail being that we're already "without" him! When was the last time our father uttered a single useful word? Or one that made any kind of sense? He's gone, Tony, slipped beyond the pale.

He's no longer of any use to us. Well, except on this one occasion, as a means of disposal.'

'And possibly as our mindspy on whatever it is that*s happening out there.'

'Yes. One last chance to pin-point Radu Lykan's lair, and learn the hour of his resurgence. One last opportunity to scry on this d.a.m.ned Drakul's Tibetan aerie and maybe learn something of his plans. And if we're lucky - if Angelo feels like co-operating, a.s.suming he's capable of it - one final glimpse, into our own futures.'

The first two, maybe,' Tony was thoughtful now. 'But not the last How can we hope to learn that from him if he isn't a part of that future? He won't advise us to bring about his own demise...'

Francesco's jaws cracked open and his eyes lit in a monstrous grin. 'And at last I see what a fool I was to have doubted you!' he said.

'Oh?' Tony looked at him cooly.

'You have considered putting an end to him!'

'Out of pity, if nothing else.'

'What? But a moment ago you feared him!'

'And are the two so incompatible? Fear and pity? He is our father.'

'He's a monster!'

'And are we any less?'

'You are playing word games!' Francesco flapped his arms.

'We go round in circles,' Tony's tone was sharper; he was done with this now. We've talked too much, said too much. And we've done it in the wrong place.'

'What do you think he might have been eavesdropping? And if so, that he would have understood? And then that he'd care? Nothing matters to him anymore; well, except that he raves and babbles to his victims, the minds that share his h.e.l.l.'

136.Tony's answer was to put a finger to his lips, glance once into the pit, and whisper, Well, he isn't babbling now...'

It was true: the psychic aether seemed breathlessly still. But the pit's miasma - the breath or effluvium of the thing it contained - went up as ever: a stinking mist that vaporized on contact with the electrified iron-mesh of the hinged cover that sealed the throat of the old well.

For long seconds the brothers looked at each other, until Francesco said, 'I don't envy you, as I said. But...'

'... It has to be done I know,' Tony finished it for him. 'And yes, I have thought of doing away with him.

For after all, he's the only thing that ties us to this place, and I fancy Le Manse Mad onie has had its day. We could be elsewhere, as other people, doing other than we do now. Y ou have suggested a fifty-gallon drum of kerosene and a stick of dynamite. But what if I were to sugges t sufficient high-explosives to blow this entire place off the face of the mountain?'

'I would in every instance agree with you!' Francesco answered. 'And to the world let it seem that we went with it'

'Except even if we were to leave this place in ruins, that wouldn't solve our problem - the fact that we are known to the dog-Lord's people and probably to this Tibetan Drakul, and that sooner or later we must run into them. For you can be sure that they would not believe we were dead!'

'Besides which,' Francesco snarled, 'I don't like the idea of backing off while this secret intruder - this Harry Keogh or Alec Kyle or whatever his b.l.o.o.d.y name is - goes unpunished. And we actually know where he is!

That's the most galling thing!'

'We know something of what he can do, too." Tony was quick to remind his brother. "Which is also galling. This man goes up against vampires! He and the Mirlu woman, they took out a Drakul lieutenant and thrall.

And our man in Scotland seems of the opinion that Bonnie Jean Mirlu is now Wamphyri. Indeed he would swear to it, for he's seen at least one of her kills.'

'Our men are in position,' Francesco was growing ever more heated and impatient. "We should go ahead and do it: order our lieutenants to kidnap, interrogate this E-Branch hypnotist, and our sleeper in Scotland to take out the Mirlu woman, along with any clever help she may have enlisted.'

'None of which will help us find Radu Lykan,' Tony's pessimism persisted. The woman must be taken alive.'

'And if she really is Wamphyri?'

'It would mean that we must... well, do it ourselves.'

'And if all went in our favour?' Francesco seemed eager to get something, anything, going.

Then blow this place to h.e.l.l,' Tony answered, but without his 137 brother's fervour. 'And the old creature in his pit with it. After that, set up again somewhere else. And eventually find a way to run this cringing Drakul to earth.'

'No more Francezcis,' Francesco nodded. 'Ferenczys, maybe? And why not? Ifs a common enough name in Romania.'

That would do it!' Tony was in agreement 'Romanian dissidents -old aristocracy, even - fleeing from the madman Ceausescu's tyranny. But where to? America, perhaps?'

'Why not?' Francesco laughed out loud, and the echoes came bouncing back from the cavern's walls. 'New York is nothing so dreary as this place. And there are plenty of penthouse aeries on 5th Avenue, believe me!'

'So good they named it twice!' Tony chuckled, however drily. The Big Apple - just waiting to be bitten into!'

'And of an evening,' (Francesco added), *we could stand on o ur balcony and watch those electrical rivers of light and life floo ding through the canyons of the city!'

'Poetic,' said Tony. "You know, brother, why, I've always suspected there was a poet in you? But rivers of life? Are you sure you don't mean rivers of blood?'

'But the blood is the life, dear brother,' said the other. And as he finished speaking - as if invoked by all their talk of blood and life - a low moan sounded from close at hand.

The brothers' smiles fell away; their heads turned as one to stare at Julietta Scalafani in her coffin, whose gla.s.s-panelled lid now lay to one side. Julietta, whose head had turned a little as if to look at them, her too- pale face no longer smiling but frowning. One of her hands had slipped from her bosom where they had lain crossed, but her eyes were still closed and there was no breathing - as yet Perhaps the bearers had jolted her when bringing her down here. And perhaps not...

'No more talk now,' said Francesco, his tone serious in a moment. "Well, not to each other. Instead I suggest you talk to him.' He inclined his head to indicate the pit. Try to start a conversation while I see to this.'

Switching off the current to the hinged grid covering the pit he commenced cranking it open. But Tony's exp ression was more serious yet - even drawn - as he caught at his brot her's arm and said: 'One more chance! We give our father one more chance. I'm pleading for him, yes. Oh, I know you're right he's no use to us the way he is. But let's make this - our success or failure on this all-important occasion - the deciding factor. If Angelo comes through for us, if he can prove his value now, when we're most in need of him, then we carry on as before. We stay here, tend his needs, and use him as our oracle as long as he continues to function.'