FIFTY-TWO

"Allen, help me!"

Cassandra clung to him, panic in her eyes. Blood spilled from her ears, left bright red trails down her white skin. An eyeball popped and oozed.

Allen backed away, shaking his head, eyes wide and horrified. "I don't know. I don't know what to do."

"What went wrong? I can't believe this." Bitterness laced Cassandra's voice. "All the time and effort. So many plans." The skin under her eyes came loose, began to slide down her face. "Damn it. This is bulls-"

Her bottom jaw fell off, landed with a wet splat on the cavern floor. Teeth knocked loose rattled on the stone. The rest of the skin melted off her body, revealing organs and bone, a beating heart.

Allen screamed. He took a dozen steps backward but was unable to avert his eyes. He was transfixed by the woman coming apart in front of him.

Cassandra cried a final, strangled scream before collapsing into a pile of steaming meat.

There was no psychotherapy on earth that would ever erase that image from Allen's mind, but he felt something unclench in his chest, a veil lift from his eyes. He was free.

Cassandra was gone, and Allen was in possession of his own soul once again.

Father Paul led them over the dam, down the narrow stairs to the stream below, kept walking until the waterwheel came into view. He saw flickering torchlight. Someone was definitely down here. He kept his shotgun ready, motioned for the others behind him to stay alert.

He spotted Allen sitting on the bottom step of a raised dais, strange gizmos hanging over him, big glass discs. This must have been the machine he'd described before.

Father Paul jogged toward Allen. "Are you okay? We came as fast as we-what the hell is THAT?" He backed away from the still-melting heap of flesh and bone.

The others arrived and saw it too. Penny groaned. Amy turned away, made a gagging sound but managed to refrain from vomiting.

"That's Cassandra," Allen told them. "Or what's left of her. She'd wanted to use the machine on herself all along. I guess she was tired of being a vampire, wanted to be human again. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I felt sorry for her. I saw the whole thing. She came apart right before my eyes. It was awful, the worst thing I've ever seen."

Father Paul looked at the machine, then back at the melted pile of Cassandra. "What went wrong?"

Allen shrugged. "No clue. Maybe the thing never worked at all." He hung his head, rubbed his eyes with his palms.

"It's all over now," Father Paul said. "I'll take the stone back to the Vatican, hide it in the secret room where we keep the Ark of the Covenant."

Allen looked up at the priest. "What?"

Father Paul laughed. "Just fucking with you. But we'll put it in a safe place."

The sound of a shotgun shell being pumped into a chamber forced all eyes to Father Starkes.

"Change of plan." Starkes leveled the shotgun at Father Paul. "The stone comes with me. Drop the weapons, and I won't splatter you with buckshot."

Father Paul said, "I have to say, Starkes, this comes as a bit of a surprise."

"You want a surprise?" Starkes smirked. "Check this out." He held the shotgun on Father Paul one-handed while he pulled a thin vial of red liquid from his pants pocket with the other. He thumbed out the cork, drank the liquid in one rapid motion.

Starkes's face began to twitch, the skin going rubbery. It stretched and distorted, then re-formed itself into the leering likeness of Abraham Zabel.

"It's that asshole," Amy said.

"I'm the asshole? You little fuckers burn down my whole house, and I'm the asshole?"

"You paralyzed us in your basement," Amy shot back.

"Oh, yeah," Zabel said. "Well, tough shit."

Penny took a step back, kicked off her deck shoes.

Zabel frowned. "What the hell is she doing?"

"This." Penny grunted, fur spreading across her body as she transformed into the half-wolf.

She sprang at Zabel, claws extended.

Zabel flung his hand up, barked a command word. Lightning sprang from his fingertips, caught Penny in midair. Her body convulsed with the electrical impact. She fell, hit the stone floor hard, and lay still.

Allen leaped to his feet. "Penny!"

Father Paul already had the.45 out of his shoulder holster. He ran for cover while squeezing the trigger, four quick blasts shaking the cavern.

Zabel blasted with the shotgun. Buckshot ricocheted off stone. He pumped in another shell, blasted again. Penny dove for cover one way, Allen another. Zabel and Father Paul exchanged fire. The priest scurried behind the protective lead wall, and Zabel followed him with the shotgun, pumping, blasting, and pumping in another shell.

"Stupid goddamn priest," Zabel shouted. "All I wanted was the stone. Now it's got to be hard. You want it hard? You got it."

Zabel scooped three gray pebbles from his pocket, blew on them, and tossed them to the floor of the cavern. They grew into armored spiders the size of beagles. They scurried behind the lead wall to attack Father Paul.

Father Paul's.45 thundered behind the wall. He ran out, the last spider pursuing him. It jumped at him, and Father Paul squeezed the trigger twice. The spider crumbled in midair, fell and rolled over on its back, legs curling up.

But Father Paul had broken cover. Zabel leveled the shotgun and squeezed the trigger. It bucked in his hands, buckshot scorching Father Paul's chest and belly. The priest spun and fell to the ground, hand going to his guts, blood oozing between his fingers.

"No!" Allen shouted. How had it come to this?

"Okay then," Zabel said. "Anyone else want to get dead? I didn't think so. Now, I'm taking that stone, and I'm going to walk straight out of-"

The shotgun suddenly glowed fiery orange in his hands. "Shit!" He dropped the shotgun, blew on his scorched palms. "What the hell?"

"Sorry for the dramatic entrance." Jackson Fay stood by the waterwheel, hands on hips, a manic gleam in his eye. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

FIFTY-THREE

"I realize I'm a little late to the party," Fay said. "And what I'm about to say isn't very original, but I'm afraid the philosopher's stone is coming with me. I'd say something too about standing aside or getting hurt, but the fact is, I have absolutely no problem hurting every single person here."

Zabel said, "I don't know who you are, dickhead, but you just bit off a mouthful of trouble."

"But I know who you are, Mr. Zabel," Fay said. "You are a sad, second-rate magician with delusions of grandeur. What do you think you would possibly do with the stone? You'd only hurt yourself. You make a good living as a hired spell-peddler. Stick with what you know."

Allen watched, held his breath.

"Okay, you know who I am," Zabel said. "Now tell me your name. I want to be able to tell everyone who I killed."

"My name is Jackson Fay."

"Uh..." Zabel slowly turned pale. "Yes. I've heard of you."

"Nothing unflattering, I hope."

"It doesn't matter," Zabel said. "I'll pit my skills against yours any day. Still, maybe we can talk this out, eh?" He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his fingertips. "So tell me. What do you think of this?"

He flicked his fingers at Fay, the sweat droplets flying through the air. Harsh syllables spilled from Zabel's mouth, and the droplets elongated and hardened, became flashing silver blades, slicing through the air toward Fay's face.

Fay spat words in return, blew a puff of air when the blades were six inches from his face. The blades jerked to a halt, transformed into silver butterflies, which flapped harmlessly away.

Fay laughed. "Not even close."

But Zabel was already running toward one of the torches on the wall. He tossed a pinch of dust into the torch flame, followed by elaborate, arcane hand gestures. The flame shot up into an arc and poured itself onto the floor between himself and Fay. The fire formed itself into a flaming bull.

Allen belly-crawled to Father Paul, put two fingers on his throat. A weak pulse. He glanced up, saw Amy trying to get to Penny. Maybe they could all sneak out of here while the wizards dueled.

The flame bull snorted, charged Fay.

Fay cast a spell at the stream that ran to the waterwheel. A giant hand emerged from the stream on a long column of water, reared up like a snake. The palm was ten feet wide. Fay made a swatting gesture, and the hand came down hard and flat on the flame bull.

The water hand exploded on contact, obliterating the bull in a hiss of steam. A ton of warm water surged across the cavern floor, knocked into Allen and Father Paul.

The priest opened his eyes, coughed. "Allen."

"It's me. Hold on. We'll figure out something."

Father Paul's chest rose and fell with a wheeze. "Everything's all wrecked inside me. I'm not going anywhere."

Allen couldn't think of anything comforting to say.

"Take this. Maybe it'll come in handy." The priest slipped something cold and heavy into Allen's hand. "You'll only have a few... a few seconds..." His eyes rolled up.

And Father Paul was no more.

"Thank you, Mr. Zabel," Fay said. "You've been amusing. I liked the bull. I'd have formed it into a minotaur. That would have added a little flare, don't you think?"

"Fuck you."

Fay frowned. "Time to end it."

Fay gestured with both hands at the waterwheel, spoke the words. The waterwheel shook, broke loose from its base, and lifted into the air. It started to spin, faster and faster, then flew straight at Zabel.

Zabel threw up his hands, screamed the words to the counter-spell. The waterwheel halted a foot from his face. He pushed back, sent the waterwheel flying at Fay.

"No, you don't!" Fay grunted as he willed the waterwheel back toward Zabel.

Allen watched the two wizards struggle, the waterwheel hovering a dozen feet in the air between them. Now was the time.

He dashed toward Amy and Penny, his footfalls splashing water. He was relieved to find Penny still breathing.

"She's unconscious," Amy said. "Can you lift her?"

Allen lifted her, put her over his shoulder. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"What about the stone?" Amy asked.

"Forget it. I don't want to be under that waterwheel when it comes down."

They ran back toward the dam. Two seconds later a cataclysmic crash echoed though the cave, wood splintering, stone crumbling.

"Keep going," Allen shouted.

They climbed the stairs up the side of the dam. When they reached the top, they paused to look back.

"Oh, hell," Allen said.

Jackson Fay hovered ten feet in the air, green light glowing around him. He flew toward them, arms outstretched, a maniacal expression twisting his face.

"We've got to hurry."

"No," Amy said. "He'll come after us. He'll follow us and kill us. We've got to end this now."

Fay floated closer.

Allen said, "Unless you've got a Sherman tank in your pocket, I suggest we haul ass out of here right now."

Amy leaned in close, whispered in his ear, "You know how you don't think I have any magical powers?"

Allen nodded.

Amy grinned. "Well, you're right."

She jogged out toward the dam.

"What? Come back! You'll get killed."

Amy picked her way along the top of the dam until she stood in the very center. She faced Fay and waited. He floated to within twenty feet of her, then stopped and hovered there.

"You defeated Zabel," Amy said.

"Yes," Fay said. "I must admit he was somewhat more formidable than I had anticipated. Good thing I disposed of him. He might have actually been able to do something with the stone if he'd obtained it."

"I talked to Margaret," Amy told him. "You're a traitorous bastard."

"Margaret?" Genuine surprise in his voice. "Well, the old bat had one last trick up her sleeve. Interesting."

"You got past Zabel," Amy said. "But you won't get past me."

"I'm sorry, but are you high or something?"

"I've been studying my craft. I'm more powerful than you think. Much more powerful than Zabel."

Fay held his belly and laughed hard. He wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, yeah. You're one mighty sorceress. Just like your friend Clover. You should have seen the surprised look on her face when I killed her."

Amy went red, fury boiling within her.

"Tell you what," Fay said. "I'll just float here. You go first. Seriously. You cast your mightiest spell." He laughed again. "I mean it. Let's see what you got."

"Okay." Amy raised her hands, formed an arcane gesture. "You asked for it."

"Let's go," Fay urged. "Cast away."

"Right." She reached behind her under her shirt and came out with the.50-caliber Desert Eagle. "Suck on this, motherfucker."

She squeezed the trigger, and the pistol bucked and thundered. Blood and flesh erupted from Fay's shoulder. He spun in midair, screamed.

Fay tried to right himself, twirling slowly in midair like some lazy weather vane. He reached out with one hand and flayed Amy with a weak blast of blue lightning.

Amy contorted, spasms of shock spreading to every inch of her body. She threw her head back, eyes shut tight. The electricity dissipated, and Amy went to her knees with a splash, barely catching herself before falling back into the pool of icy water.

Fay had stabilized, floated toward Amy with both hands outstretched, hellfire in his eyes. "Bitch! That's cheating."

Amy lifted the heavy pistol, closed one eye, sighted along the barrel.

She fired twice more, flame flashing from the gun. The slugs smacked into Fay's side, exploded out his back. His mouth fell open in a noiseless gasp; eyes wide with disbelief. He crumbled and plummeted, trailing blood in the air. He landed with a splash and a crunch.

Amy turned and ran from the dam to join Allen on the narrow path that led back up to St. Vitus Cathedral. She stumbled, fell forward.

Allen barely caught her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, panting. "Just a little woozy. Let's get out of here."

"One more thing," Allen said. "Can you take her? Are you strong enough?"

Amy grabbed Penny under each armpit, dragged her up the path. "Hurry."

Allen went to the edge of the dam, peered over. Fay lay at the bottom, still moving. The wizard looked up and saw Allen. "You... little shits. I'm going to h-heal. Going to heal up and then I'll d-drink wine out of your f-fucking skulls." He coughed, flecks of blood covering his bottom lip.

"I don't think so," Allen said.

He pulled the grenade Father Paul had given him from his pocket, jammed it into a niche between two stones. He pulled the pin and ran.

He just made it to the passage back to the daylight when he heard the explosion behind him.

FIFTY-FOUR

When the grenade went off, I saw the whole thing. A pretty good show.

The small explosion only damaged the dam a little at first, rocks and dust flying. But Allen had put the grenade in just the right spot. Never underestimate dumb luck. Geysers spouted from the dam, opening fissures. Jackson Fay had a front-row seat when the dam finally broke, tons and tons of water and rock tumbling down on him.

The water swept through the caverns, wrecking Roderick's machine, smashing lenses, washing away bodies.

The rush of water was so powerful that it even sent the lead box with the philosopher's stone rolling and tumbling along deep underground caverns, through a shaft that emptied itself into the Vlatva. The box sank into the mud at the bottom of the river.

What happened to it after that, I can't say. I've come to the end of my part in the story.

I didn't know that at first, but I know it now. I can feel it. I'm going someplace. Events have come to fruition, and I've been released. I know now that I've waited centuries to finish this, to witness, to tell you about it. I don't know what happens next.

I see the big, deep gray loom before me, and I'm afraid. I don't want to go. For hundreds of years I've prayed for release, but now I don't want to go.

I can help you.

Who is this?

You know who this is.

You're me, aren't you?

I'm you an hour from now. You know how funny time works here.

What are you doing here?

It was difficult, so I've come back to help you.

How can you help?

You need to start thinking. You need to face up to some things. It'll go quicker if you start now. I resisted, and it took longer. It was... uncomfortable.

What do you mean?

Think about what you're doing here. Why are you a ghost? What happened?

Nothing happened. I don't know what you're talking about.

Yes, you do.

Go away. I don't need your help.

Remember Roderick. Remember how he died, the agony. From exposing himself to the stone.

Is it because of the emperor's cousin? Am I being punished for that? He died just like the vampire. Because I smudged the lens. Is that it? It was worth it. Rudolph sealed up the caverns after that. He didn't think the machine worked. It was a good thing. I'm sorry about the emperor's cousin, but it was good he thought the machine a failure.

You know that's not what I'm talking about.

I don't want to speak to you anymore.

Remember Roderick's agony. How he withered away. You were exposed to the stone too.

Shut up.

You didn't want to die like that, did you? So much pain.

Shut up!

So what did you do?

I didn't do anything. Go away.

WHAT DID YOU DO?

I t-took a rope. A noose. I put it around my neck. Oh, God.

It's okay.

Oh, God. I remember. Oh, my God.

Let it out.

I wept. I don't know how long. It's hard to tell when you're disembodied, when you can't feel warm tears roll down your cheek. I wept and wept.

There. Feel better?

I don't know. I feel tired.

I'm going on ahead. I'll see you there soon. You'll make it okay now.

Okay.

And I feel myself being pulled along. Not like when Zabel summoned me to his rooftop. More like floating along with a gentle current. I'm floating into the gray. There's no tunnel of light. No choir of angels. Just the long gray. And I'm going there.

Toward an ending. And a beginning.

Into all things.

FIFTY-FIVE

After fleeing St. Vitus Cathedral and Prague Castle, they returned to Penny's apartment, where Allen and Amy laid Penny on her bed. She woke several hours later, pleasantly surprised to be in her own room. Allen and Amy filled her in on what she'd missed.

Penny cried for Father Paul.

They all slept, aches and bruises and fatigue forcing them into the deepest slumber of their lives.

The next day, Allen and Penny walked Amy to the nearest tram stop. Amy wore a pink T-shirt, white shorts, and sandals, her toenails painted the same pink as the T-shirt. She wore a small backpack over one shoulder. She looked like she was on her way to a sorority beach party.

"I knew I never had any powers," Amy said wistfully. "But to be a member of the Society, to have a place. I'm not very independent, I guess. I needed to belong."

"What are you going to do now?" Allen asked.

She shrugged. "Maybe in the fall I'll go back to school. Finish my dissertation in astrophysics."

Astrophysics?

"Until then I suppose I'll bum around," Amy said. "I'll take the tram to the train station. Catch the express to Vienna. It'll be nice to be an ordinary tourist."

Penny offered her hand, and they shook. "I know we didn't hit it off at first, but I hope we see you again."

Amy smiled. "I'd like that."

The tram pulled up to the stop, and Amy climbed aboard.

She suddenly jumped off, grabbed Allen's face, and planted a hard kiss right on his lips. Allen stood speechless.

Amy flashed a devilish grin at Penny. "I know he's all yours. But he sure is cute, isn't he?"

She hopped back aboard the tram as it pulled out, and they watched Amy wave from the back window. The tram rounded a corner and trundled out of sight.

Penny and Allen strolled the sidewalk.

"It just occurred to me," Allen said. "I don't have to research a chapter on Kafka for Professor Evergreen anymore. Looks like I have a whole summer and nothing to do."

Penny's hand found his, and their fingers laced. "Well, I just don't know what you're going to do. I hear Prague's kind of a dull town."

Allen's face grew somber. "I think there's something I need to tell you, Penny. Something about me and Cassandra."

"Never mind," she said. "Amy told me all about it."

"You don't care?"

"I can't say I'm thrilled," she admitted, "but it wasn't your fault." She stopped him, stood in front of him, head tilted up. "Besides, you're mine. I earned you. So try to be worth it, okay?"

"Looks like I know what I'm doing this summer."

He kissed her long and hard.

It was good.

Much better than a Brontë novel.

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