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 Very well! If you still doubt me. He is miles from here, nailed like an
insect to a specimen board. If any of you still doubt that, I ll fly with you
to show 
 Dr. Corday! Kate screamed out suddenly.  Come in and help us!
As if by a magic blow Kate s outcry cut across all other voices, even
Morgan s, and wiped them into silence.
Looking round him, Joe could see that no one was moving. The pressure of the
silence was such that it felt like a growing weight. The grip pinioning his
arms, though, did not slacken.
Someone s voice began a Latin whisper. It seemed to have no purpose other than
to relieve the silence.
Morgan was looking over Joe s shoulder. The faintest of smiles was on her lips
and her adolescent eyes had an expression that he could not read. Never again,
though, would he be able to think of her as young in any sense.
The whisper had trailed away. The stillness in the room was more intense and
ominous than before.
Poach was perhaps the first to move, letting his grip on Joe s wrists slacken
and fall away. Joe saw Kate raise her head. He followed her gaze, in the same
direction to which other silent faces were turning now. All were looking down
the long vista of the rooms.
At the end the drapes were now drawn back slightly from the widow. And someone
was standing there, a man s form outlined against an icy city night now
cleared of falling snow. The form was motionless as some effigy of wax.
 I knew, Morgan murmured.  I think I knew it all along. Now moving slowly,
unsurprised, she turned her back on Joe. She took two steps toward that
distant apparition, and her voice rang out boldly:  Come in then, Vlad Tepes!
I say it now of my own free will. Enter my house, and we will settle all that
lies between us, here and now!
TWENTY-ONE
Silently, with deliberate strides, the distant figure was pacing toward them.
Poach moved then, with such quickness that for a moment his great bulk seemed
an illusion. Before Joe could react, the giant had reached the fireplace, and
in an instant the eight-foot wooden spear mounted above it had come down into
his hands. Morgan meanwhile backed up slowly, until one hand extended behind
her rested on the table s edge.
For a long moment no one else stirred. Then, with a broken cry, gray-haired
Dickon broke out of the group and stumbled into the next room. There he threw
himself at the feet of the one approaching, who halted rather than step on
him.
 Master! Dickon cried out.  Master, I have never betrayed you. I would not
believe that you were dead.
 Stand up, fool. For Joe s eyes, the face of the speaker was still in
darkness. The voice, resonant and commanding, was like Corday s, and yet
unlike. It went on:  This is the new world now, Dickon, have you not heard?
Such sniveling ill becomes one who is ready to take his rightful place as a
member of the superior race of beings.
Dickon s collapse became total. With his face down on the thick carpet, his
words fell into muffled howls. The man whose path he had blocked stepped round
him, and continued his advance.
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The fashion model was next to fall upon her knees.  Vlad Tepes, she choked
out,  we did not know . . . we never believed that you were . . .
 When have I ever asked for groveling? the newcomer interrupted.  From any of
you? He took one more step, and Joe could see that he wore Corday s face and
yet he did not. Like the voice, the face had been transformed. He who was not
that old man Joe had known and yet was took yet another step. He stopped
there, in a position from which he could see Poach and Morgan both.
In Morgan s left hand, held behind her back as if for support against the
table, there had somehow appeared a long knife. In the table lights it looked
to Joe as if it had been fashioned blade and all from one piece of some dark
and oily wood. Near the fireplace, Poach stood poised like a harpooner with
his wooden spear. The bloody mark on his forehead was throbbing now, looking
almost raw.
For the moment, the two breathing people in the room were being ignored by
everyone else. Joe saw that Kate s eyes were fixed, calculatingly, on the
knife in Morgan s hand; all right, let Kate do something about that. Joe s
left hand moved out stealthily over the surface of the table in front of him.
His fingers touched and picked up a stub of pencil. If only it were not too
big around
 Watch out! he yelled, and heard Kate s voice ring out in chorus with his
own.
Had their warning been needed, it would have come too late, for Morgan s swift
strike had taken them both by surprise. The old man had been ready, though. He
was out of the path of the knife-blow when it arrived, and with a whiplash of
his arm he slapped Morgan staggering back. Joe saw him vanish then. Poach s
lunge with the spear found only air.
An explosion of frightened voices filled the room. All around, solid bodies
were going out like candle flames.
There was a howling exodus in the air. Joe had drawn his gun at last, and now
he got himself in front of Poach. The giant was looking past Joe, holding the
spear ready, seeking for Corday. Joe slid the pencil stub eraser-first down
the snub barrel of the .38, felt it check in place, rubber against chambered
load.
Poach s eyes widened, discovering something behind Joe. Keeping the spear for
bigger game, Poach lifted a free hand to sweep the irritation of a mere armed
policeman from his path.
The revolver blasted once, and Joe s mind registered that at least it had not
blown up in his hand with a jammed
barrel. The hammerblow of the wooden impact slammed Poach s head backward, one
side of his forehead disappearing in a great smear of jellied blood. The spear
fell from the giant s hands, and the roar he uttered drowned out other
shouting voices.
Though staggered, Poach somehow kept his feet. A second later, one eye showing
clear and horrible in a face half masked in gore, he was coming after Joe.
Joe stumbled backward. With eyes and mind and hands he scrambled to locate
some possible weapon made of wood. The table was too big for him to lift. He
crawled beneath it, but a moment later it was knocked away. Lights went smash.
In the deeper darkness, screaming and rushing seemed to go on without end.
Joe, on his back, despairing of reaching useful wood, raised his pistol toward
the huge form that bent toward him with hands outstretched to grab.
A different kind of rush went past him in the air, as of a grazing blow.
Something struck Poach with disembodied but elemental power, lifting him to
his feet. Joe could feel the floor vibrate when the big body struck the wall.
Automatically holstering his gun, Joe got to hands and knees and crawled
toward the fireplace. Sparks were visible there, and there were streaks of
luminosity in the air, screaming, fluttering gigantic shapes and shadows. One
went right up the chimney with a shriek. A panic, as of whipped animals unable
to break out of a pen, filled the place like fog. Joe groped his way amid
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crazy smashings, outcries, smells unlike anything he had encountered in his
life -
before. What was he doing? Yes, looking for the spear. But he couldn t find
it.
Turning away from the fireplace, he saw Kate. She was halfway across the room,
trying to hold on to Morgan.
Joe charged, in mid-stride grabbing up a wooden chair.
He swung the chair with all his strength. It cut through empty air as Morgan s
figure disappeared.
The chair landed on the floor, as Kate almost fell into his arms. Both of them
were swaying with exhaustion. The darkened apartment was quiet now. They were
alone.
Joe gripped Kate, looked hard at her while she looked back. He started twice
to try to speak.
 We ll talk later, Kate said at last.
He nodded.  Let s get out of here. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]