bl.necroscope2-第32章

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hutters。　London　was　a　tomb　by　parison。　Tombs　hardly　seemed　a　fitting　subject　to　go　to　sleep　on；　but　。
　Kyle　closed　his　eyes；　he　felt　sleep　pulling　him　down；　soft　as　a　woman's　arms；　and　he　felt…something　else　pulling　him　awake！
　His　lamp　was　still　on；　its　shade　forming　a　pool　of　yellow　light　on　the　mahogany　bedside　table。　But　there　was　now　a　second　source　of　illumination；　and　it　was　blue！　Kyle　snatched　himself　back　from　sleep；　sat　bolt　upright　in　his　bed。　It　was　Harry　Keogh；　of　course。
　Carl　Quint　came　bounding　through　the　joining　door；　dressed　only　in　his　pyjama　bottoms。　He　pulled　up　short；　backed　off　a　pace。　〃Oh　my　God！〃　he　said；　his　mouth　hanging　open。　The　Keogh　apparition…man；　sleeping　child　and　all…turned　through　ninety　degrees　to　face　him。
　Don't　be　alarmed；　said　Keogh。
　〃Can　you　see　him？〃　Kyle　wasn't　quite　awake　yet。
　〃Lord；　yes；〃　Quint　breathed；　nodding。　〃And　hear　him；　too。　But　even　if　I　couldn't；　I'd　still　know　he　was　here。〃
　A　psychic　sensitive；　said　Keogh。　Well；　that　helps。
　Kyle　swung　his　legs　out　of　bed；　switched　off　the　lamp。　Keogh　stood　out　so　much　better　in　the　darkness；　like　a　hologram　of　infinitely　fine　neon　wires。　〃Carl　Quint；〃　Kyle　said；　his　skin　prickling　with　the　sheer　weirdness　of　this　thing　he'd　never　get　used　to；　〃meet　Harry　Keogh。〃
　Quint　stumblingly　found　a　chair　close　to　Kyle's　bed　and　flopped　into　it。　Kyle　was　wide　awake　now；　fully　in　control。　He　realised　how　insubstantial　it　must　sound；　how　hollow　and　monplace　when　he　asked：　〃Harry；　what　are　you　doing　here？〃
　And　Quint　almost　laughed；　however　hysterically；　when　the　apparition　answered：　I've。　been　talking　to　Thibor　Ferenczy；　using　my　time　to　my　best　advantage…for　there's　precious　little　of　it　to　waste。　Every　waking　hour　makes　Harry　jar　stronger　and　me　less　able　to　resist　him。　It's　his　body　and　I'm　being　subsumed；　even　absorbed。　His　little　brain　is　filling　up　with　its　own　stuff；　squeezing　me　out　or　maybe　pacting　me。　Pretty　soon　I'll　have　to　leave　him；　and　then　I　don't　know　if　I'll　ever　be　corporeal　again。　So　on　the　way　back　from　Thibor；　I　thought　I'd　drop　in　on　you。
　Kyle　could　almost　feel　Quint's　near…hysteria；　he　glanced　warningly　at　him　in　the　light　of　the　soft　blue　glow。　〃You've　been　talking　to　the　old　Thing　in　the　ground？〃　he　repeated。　〃But　why；　Harry？　What　is　it　you　want　from　him？〃
　He's　one　of　them；　a　vampire；　or　he　was。　The　dead　aren't　much　bothered　with　him。　He's　a　pariah　among　the　dead。　In　me　he　has；　well；　if　not　a　friend；　at　least　someone　to　talk　to。　So　we　trade：　I　converse　with　him；　and　he　tells　me　things　I　want　to　know。　But　nothing's　easy　with　Thibor　Ferenczy。　Even　dead　he　has　a　devious　mind。　He　knows　that　the　longer　he　strings　it　out；　the　sooner　I'll　be　back。　He　used　the　same　tactics　with　Dragosani；　remember？
　〃Oh；　yes；〃　Kyle　nodded。　〃And　I　also　remember　what　happened　to　Dragosani。　You　should　be　careful；　Harry。〃
　Thibor's　dead；　Alec；　Keogh　reminded　him。　He　can　do　no　more　harm。　But　what　he　left　behind　might。
　〃What　he　left　behind？　You　mean　Yulian　Bodescu？　I've　got　men　watching　the　place　in　Devon　until　I'm　ready　for　him。　When　we're　sure　of　his　patterns；　when　we've　assessed　everything　you've　told　us；　then　we'll　move　in。〃
　I　didn't　exactly　mean　Yulian；　though　certainly　he's　part　of　it。　But　are　you　telling　me　you've　put　espers　on　the　job？　Keogh　seemed　alarmed。　Do　they　know　what　they　might　have　to　deal　with　if　they're　marked？　Are　they　fully　in　the　picture？
　〃Yes　they　are。　Fully。　And　they're　equipped。　But　if　we　can　we'll　learn　a　little　more　about　them　before　we　act。　For　all　that　you've　told　us；　still　we　know　so　very　little。〃
　And　do　you　know　about　George　Lake？
　Kyle　felt　his　scalp　tingle。　Quint；　too。　And　this　time　it　was　Quint　who　answered。　〃We　know　he's　no　longer　in　his　grave　in　the　cemetery　in　Blagdon；　if　that's　what　you　mean。　The　doctors　diagnosed　a　heart　attack；　and　his　wife　and　the　Bodescus　were　there　at　his　burial。　So　much　we've　checked　out。　But　we've　also　been　there　and　had　a　look　for　ourselves；　and　George　Lake　wasn't　where　he　should　be。　We　figure　he's　back　at　the　house　with　the　others。〃
　The　Keogh　manifestation　nodded。　That's　what　I　meant。　So　now　he's　undead。　And　that　will　have　told　Yulian　Bodescu　exactly　what　he　is！　Or　maybe　not　exactly。　But　by　now　he　must　be　pretty　sure　he's　a　vampire。　In　fact；　he's　only　a　half…vampire。　George；　on　the　other　hand…he's　the　real　thing！　He　has　been　dead；　so　what's　in　him　will　have　taken　plete　control。
　〃What？〃　Kyle　was　bemused。　〃I　don't　…；　Let　me　tell　you　the　rest　of　Thibor's　story；　Keogh　cut　in。　See　what　you　make　of　that。
　Kyle　could　only　nod　his　agreement。　〃I　suppose　you　know　what　you're　doing；　Harry。〃　The　room　was　already　colder。　Kyle　gave　a　blanket　to　Quint；　wrapped　another　about　himself。　〃OK；　Harry；〃　he　said。　〃The　stage　is　all　yours。　。
　
　The　last　thing　Thibor　remembered　seeing　was　the　Ferenczy's　bestial　animal　face；　his　jaws　open　in　a　gaping　laugh；　displaying　a　crimson　forked　tongue　shuddering　like　a　speared　snake　in　its　alien　passion。　He　remembered　that；　and　the　fact　that　he'd　been　drugged。　Then　he'd　gone　down　in　an　irresistible　whirlpool；　down；　down　to　black　lightness　depths　from　which　his　resurgence　had　been　slow　and　fraught　with　nightmares。
　He　had　dreamed　of　yellow…eyed　wolves；　of　a　blasphemous　banner　device　in　the　form　of　a　devil's　head；　with　its　forked　tongue　much　like　the　Ferenczy's　own；　except　that　on　the　banner　it　had　dripped　gouts　of　blood；　of　a　black　castle　built　over　a　mountain　gorge；　and　of　its　master；　who　was　something　other　than　human。　And　now；　because　he　knew　that　he　had　dreamed；　he　also　knew　he　must　be　waking　up。　And　the　thought　came　to　him：　how　much　was　dream　and　how　much　reality？
　Thibor　felt　a　subterranean　cold；　cramps　in　all　his　limbs；　a　throbbing　in　his　temples　like　a　reverberating　gong　in　some　great　sounding　cavern。　He　felt　the　manacles　on　his　wrists　and　ankles；　the　cold　slimy　stone　at　his　back　where　he　slumped；　the　drip　of　seeping　moisture　from　somewhere　overhead；　where　it　hissed　past　his　ear　and　splashed　in　the　hollow　of　his　collar…bone。
　Chained　naked　in　some　black　vault　in　the　castle　of　the　Ferenczy。　And　no　need　now　to　ask　how　much　of　it　had　been　dream。　All　of　it　was　real。
　Thibor　came　snarling　to　life；　strained　with　a　giant's　strength　against　the　chains　that　held　him　powerless；　ignored　the　thunder　in　his　head　and　the　lancing　pains　in　his　limbs　and　body　to　roar　in　the　darkness　like　a　wounded　bull。　〃Ferenczy！　You　dog；　Ferenczy！　Treacherous；　misshapen；　misbegotten　…〃
　The　Wallach　warlord　stopped　shouting；　listened　to　the　echoes　of　his　curses　dying　away。　And　to　something　else。　From　somewhere　up　above　he　had　heard　his　bellowing　answered　by　the　slam　of　a　door；　heard　unhurried　footsteps　descending　towards　him。　And　with　his　cold　skin　prickling　and　his　nostrils　flaring…from　rage　and　terror　both…he　hung　in　his　chains　and　waited。
　The　darkness　was　very　nearly　utter；　streaks　of　nitre　alone　glowed　with　a　chemical　phosphorescence　on　the　walls；　but　as　Thibor　held　his　breath　and　the　hollow　footsteps　came　closer；　so　too　came　a　flickering　illumination。　It　issued　in　an　unevenly　penetrating　yellow　glow　from　an　arched　stone　doorway　in　what　must　otherwise　be　a　solid　wall　of　rock；　and　while　Thibor　watched　with　bated　breath；　so　the　shadows　of　his　cell　were　thrown　back　more　yet　as　the　light　grew　stronger　and　the　footsteps　louder。
　Then　a　sputtering　lantern　was　thrust　in　through　the　archway；　and　behind　it　was　the　Ferenczy　himself；　crouching　a　little　to　avoid　the　wedge　of　the　keystone。　Behind　the　lantern　his　eyes　were　red　fires　in　the　shadows　of　his　face。　He　held　the　lantern　high；　nodded　grimly　at　what　he　saw。
　Thibor　had　thought　he　was　alone　but　now　he　saw　that　he　was　not。　In　the　flare　of　yellow　lamplight　he　discovered　that　there　were　others　here　with　him。　But　dead　or　alive。。。？　One　of　them　seemed　alive；　at　least。
　Thibor　narrowed　his　eyes　as　the　glare　from　the　Ferenczy's　lantern　brightened；　lighting　up　the　entire　dungeon。　Three　other　prisoners　were　with　him　here；　yes；　and　dead　or　alive　it　wasn't　hard　to　guess　who　they'd　be。　As　to　how　or　why　the　castle's　master　had　brought　them　here　…that　was　anybody's　guess。　They　were　of　course　Thibor's　Wallach　panions；　and　also　old　Arvos　of　the　Szgany。　Of　the　three；　it　seemed　to　be　the　stumpy　Wallach　who