Vampire a Go-Go(32)

Zombie chickens, zombie pigs, zombie ducks, zombie fish, zombie cats. One incident with a zombie bear that left two guards dead.

The pathetic sight of a zombie puppy made Kelley weep openly, and he was forced to retire to the White Tower for the rest of the day, where he drained a jug of wine. Maybe breaking down like that was good. Maybe it showed he yet retained some shred of humanity. Or maybe he was just that much closer to madness.

On his way into the dungeon the next morning, Kelley met Roderick on his way out. The astrologer carried an armload of diagrams and parchments. He looked happy and excited.

“Just in time, Kelley. Follow me.”

“What’s going on?” Kelley asked.

“No more cranking those lenses by hand, my good man. I think you’ll be impressed. Come see.”

Kelley followed the astrologer out of the castle to St. Vitus Cathedral. Halfway there he guessed where they were going. It had been a long time since Kelley had first encountered Edgar and seen the underground river in the caves beneath the cathedral. He tried to act surprised when Roderick led him down and through the vault.

Where there had been a ragged hole knocked into the wall, there was now a proper archway. The stonemasons had done their jobs. The tunnel beyond that was smoother and wider. When they reached the river, Kelley observed a row of wooden posts with thick rope strung between for safety.

“As you can see, we’ve diverted this underground river to open up the chamber beyond,” Roderick explained. “We’ve cleared a number of areas for different purposes, but what I want to show you is just up ahead. Be careful going down the ladder.”

The ladder had now been anchored more securely, and Kelley followed Roderick down to the trickle of a stream where the underground river had once flowed freely. Flickering lamps hung from hooks, illuminating the path-a flagstone walkway that now paralleled the water all the way into the main chamber with the waterwheel.

Kelley noticed that the trench had been deepened to allow a greater flow of water to the wheel. The wheel wasn’t turning at the moment. Workers were busy installing a larger version of the apparatus from the dungeon, with more lenses, gears, levers, shafts-all of the astrologer’s bright playthings. The money and man hours already put into the project must have been staggering. Kelley could only guess.

Roderick was showing off, gesturing grandly at the wheel. He dove into a tedious and protracted explanation of the machine’s workings, the colossal efforts needed to divert the river and expand the chamber, the exact calculations to place the reflecting mirrors. Kelley let the information wash over him, the technical details becoming white noise in his ears.

He belched and tasted last night’s wine.

Kelley realized he was killing himself. He’d fallen into a deep depression; drank himself to sleep every night and ate barely enough to sustain himself. For his health and his sanity, Kelley had to escape this place. As the astrologer droned on, Kelley thought how he could do it.

Kelley felt confident the spell on his ass-brand had been broken when Edgar had been killed, so there was no magical restraint on him now. But security in and around the castle was tighter than ever. People who knew the secrets of the castle dungeons-people like Kelley-were especially kept under lock and key. The emperor didn’t want tales of the walking dead to spread throughout the city. The peasants were already wary enough of the strange goings-on at court, with rumors of alchemists and magicians. Turning lead into gold was one thing, but trespassing against the laws of God and nature was something else entirely.

He considered the tunnels. When Kelley had first encountered Edgar, the man had taken him through a twisting tunnel that had let out in the woods beyond the castle. It had been months, but could Kelley perhaps find that same passage, use it to escape? He looked about the chamber and spotted a number of caves leading off in various directions. He’d probably get lost, and anyway, there was an armed man at every entrance.

Never mind. He would escape or die trying. Kelley would form some kind of plan, and he would leave.

Kelley spent the rest of the day hauling items from Roderick’s antechamber near the dungeon down to a workspace beneath the cathedral. There were some delicate instruments that needed careful handling, and the astrologer didn’t trust the common laborers to take proper care.

That night Kelley lay awake in the White Tower. He’d already written the day’s events into his journal, but he did not crawl into a wine jug as usual. Saving himself was his new purpose. That he might not deserve saving didn’t enter the equation. He’d earn it later.

Perhaps he could get Roderick to send him on some important errand in town. He’d simply not return to the castle. Or maybe in the general work and confusion beneath the cathedral, he could find Edgar’s tunnel and escape that way. He wouldn’t be able to take much. Luggage would naturally draw suspicion.

A knock at his chamber door startled him. Nobody ever visited him in the White Tower. Ever. Not since Dee had gone.

He sat up in bed, hesitated. “Come in.”

Roderick entered. “Good. You’re awake. I took a chance.” He glanced around Kelley’s room. “Your accommodations seem adequate.”

“I’m comfortable.”

Roderick nodded, toyed with a rolled-up piece of parchment in his hands. He seemed to be considering it. Finally, he stepped forward, handed it to Kelley. “I need you to memorize this then return it to me in the morning.”

“What is it?”

“Oh…” Roderick shrugged. “It’s the final sequence. Instructions for the machine.”

“What?” Kelley stood, unrolled the parchment. He looked over it quickly, trying to take it all in at once. “It’s finished?”

“Fully assembled.”

As much as he hated the machine, hated what it did, Kelley could not help but feel awe. Such an undertaking. Finished at last. What would it mean to the world?

“Why give me the instructions?”

“I just thought somebody else should know how to operate it,” Roderick said. “It occurred to me only just an hour ago that I’m the only man alive that knows completely how the contraption works.” He chuckled.

“Are you going somewhere?” Kelley asked.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Roderick waved the notion away. “Just a precaution, you know. What if I choke on a chicken bone or something? Wouldn’t that give the emperor fits? It’s simple common sense. Somebody else should know. But that’s the master copy. Memorize it and give it back to me in the morning. There’s a good fellow.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry to disturb you, Kelley.” He flicked a wave. “Good night.” The astrologer let himself out.

Kelley examined the intricate instructions, complete with diagram. Roderick must have been drunk or out of his mind. If Kelley had a year, he’d never be able to memorize all this. He took out his journal and began to copy the information. It took him two hours. He checked the information three times to make sure he’d duplicated it perfectly.

He had.

He laughed. So much time and effort. Who would ever read it?





UNDERSTANDING LYCANTHROPY





THIRTY-SIX




Ten minutes to closing, and Allen figured they would probably check the restrooms.

He’d spent the last hour scouting possibilities. Hiding in the reading room was his best option, since there was only one door between the reading room and the special collections, where they kept the handwritten manuscripts. At least, that’s where Allen hoped they would be.

The reading room: Six rows of five desks each. A service window at the far end of the room where patrons checked out reading material. Enormous Czech flags on poles stood in each corner of the room, and various framed maps and portraits hung on the walls. Allen stood with his hands clasped behind his back and pretended to examine one of the maps. The monastery had almost completely drained itself of tourists and other patrons. Soon they would shoo out the stragglers. There was only one other patron in the reading room-a middle-aged man with a sizable pile of books.

Come on, dude. They’re going to close soon.

Three minutes to closing, the man finally stood and began to gather the books. He took them to the window, and Allen held his breath, as he edged toward the corner of the room. The man at the window took the materials from the middle-aged patron, turned his back.

Now!

Allen leaped into the corner of the room, grabbed the corner of the big Czech flag, and spun twice, completely wrapping himself within the smooth fabric. He stood perfectly still next to the flagpole, only the bottoms of his shoes showing. Hopefully nobody would notice.

He stood there like a flag mummy, wrapped up, the fabric tight on his face. Within three minutes he was hot, and it was hard to breathe. Allen thought maybe the flag was some synthetic fabric that didn’t breathe well. Sweat fell from his neck and down his back, but he didn’t budge. He developed an itch at the very top of his ass-crack.

No. Put it out of your mind. Don’t move.

He finally heard footsteps, the jingle of keys. Allen held his breath. A bead of sweat trickled down his back. He wanted to swipe at it, squirm. The sound of a door opening. The lights went out. The door closed again, the sound of locks tumbling. Footsteps fading away.