Melmoth held the cross between his cupped hands in a gesture of mock piety. “If only you could see the sporting tricks that sister Mary gets up to in her own private room with this pretty toy, Dr. Wyeth. I think even you would be convinced that it does not frighten us.”
A long silence followed the disgusting demonstration of the Family’s power, which was broken finally by Ryan. “You’ve made your point,” he said. “We’ll stay as long as you like. Just let the boy go. Let Dean alone.”
Thomas, his smile shining through his words, said, “I think not. We have not lived close to a hundred years by being stupid, Ryan. And to let you have your son back would be the same as opening the main doors and giving you fast horses to ride away. No, the boy will live with us for a time.”
He moved his hand from Dean’s mouth, allowing him to speak. “I’ll be all right, Dad. Be a hot pipe with them. Don’t worry about me.”
“Sure.”
Thomas yawned, his mouth opening so wide they could all hear the sinews cracking in his jaws. “Well, this has all gone as we hoped it would. As we knew it would, outlanders. Remember that we have no wish to harm any of you. That would be against our own best ends, wouldn’t it?”
Melmoth was already leaving the room, heading for the stairs that would eventually take them up to their attic rooms. “Tomorrow we will have worked out a detailed plan for when we will need each of you.”
Mary followed him. “Once we have gone, Norman, you may raise the lights so that our guests can see properly to enjoy their meals. I look forward to starting the osmotic process with you all. Especially with you, again, Ryan. The idea of reconnection is thrilling.”
Thomas and Elric left together. Ryan could hear the sound of his son’s feet dragging, reluctant, across the echoing hall.
The door closed behind them.
“Well, now you know, people,” Norman chirped brightly. “Could be worse, believe me.”
“How?” Ryan asked, the single syllable as cold as Sierra meltwater.
“Well, the Family could have chilled you all. Last night. You saw what they did to that silly-billy of a filmmaker. They all have dreadful strength. Even Melmoth, and he’s weak as a kitten compared to his usual old ways.”
“Some of them have died,” J.B. pointed out. “So they can be chilled.”
The butler shook his head slowly. “Even the mightiest sequoias will fall eventually in the deeps of the forest. But if there is nobody there to hear the thunderous crash, is there any sound at all?”
“Don’t play fucking Zen games with us, you preening little shit!” Mildred walked toward him, her beaded plaits swinging. “Don’t come on with ‘What’s the sound of one hand clapping?’ and ‘How when is now?’ and all that crap! You serve what must be one of the most perverse and vile families in the whole of Deathlands and doing your chirpy and amusing little gay act with us doesn’t By God, it doesn’t make you winsome, Norman.”
Her shout echoed around and around the vaulted gallery at the second floor.
“Well, pardon me for living!” the butler exclaimed.
“Living and partly living,” Doc stated. “Have you opened the door to the secret garden and taken the path least traveled? By the Three Kennedys, but what a pathetic whining bastard you are, Norman.”
“Well, you can whistle down the pussy’s well for food for all I care.” Norman glowered at them. “You’ll see, as well. See I’m right. It could be much worse.”
Ryan heard the door open and close again. “Might be worth scavenging into the kitchens. J.B., mebbe you and Jak could go see what you can beg or borrow or steal.”
“Sure thing,” the Armorer said.
“After we’ve eaten, then all meet up in our room for some serious planning. Krysty, could you and Mildred and Doc turn the lamps back up?”
“Sure, lover. The sight of the Family in any kind of light’s poor as anything.”
Mildred came around the table and laid her hand on his arm. He could feel her tension and anger. She lowered her head so that her mouth was close to his ear.
“Anything you want to tell me, Ryan?”
“Like what?”
All around the huge room he could hear Doc and Krysty turning up the wicks. And he could definitely see the patches of shimmering, golden light.
“Like, whether you think your sight might possibly be creeping back, Ryan?”
Krysty heard her and whirled. “Ryan! That true?”
“Mebbe.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Because of the mutie hearing that the four surviving members of the Family seemed to possess, Ryan had whispered to Krysty, Mildred and Doc not to let on about his sight returning, to wait until they were alone in their room.
When J.B. and Jak returned, about fifteen minutes later, they were each taken aside by Mildred and told the exciting news, both of them warned not to show any reaction.
They had brought some bread and butter and several jars of preservesstrawberry, blueberry and lemon cheeseas well as a couple of bottles of pre-dark wine that Jak had found in a dusty corner of the cellar.
“A Sancerre and a very good claret,” Doc pronounced. “I can tell you that those bottles will either be the nectar of the gods, or, if they have not been properly tended, then they will taste like rancid camel piss.”
Sadly they had not been properly tended and were both bitter and deeply undrinkable.
“Still, there’s the best of Adam’s brewery, from a barrel out near the rear entrance to the house,” J.B. said. “Least the water’s good and wholesome. Only thing in this rad-blasted place that is.”
“Can we get out that way?” Ryan asked.
“Sure. But why bother, Ryan? Front door’s bolted from the inside. Not locked. Guess it’s done to stop any would-be assassin getting in and trying to wipe out the Family. Doesn’t stop anyone from getting out.”
“From what we’ve seen about their invulnerability they’d have a tough job,” Mildred said.
“I don’t know.” Ryan allowed Krysty to spread his bread with the fruit jelly in case anyone watched from the slabs of deep shadow above them.
“Got a plan, lover?” she asked.
“Let’s finish up down here and get to our room. Take my arm to guide me, Krysty .”
“I WAS WONDERING WHETHER a house like this might not have secret passages in it,” Doc said, once they were all gathered safely together in Ryan and Krysty’s bedroom. “Maybe a priest’s bolt hole that could hide a rat or a ferret or a weasel or some other sneaking wildwooder?”
“Good thought, Doc,” Ryan said, pitching his voice low. “Gather around close. Jak, open the window if you can. Windy night might also help to confuse any listeners.”
Once that was done they all sat on the bed.
“First things first,” Mildred stated. “I need to check your eye, Ryan.”
“All right. But make it quick. Every moment that those sick bastards have Dean in their power is a triple-dangerous moment. I know they said they’d not harm him as long as we cooperated, but I don’t trust them as far as I could throw them.”
For several minutes Mildred carried out what tests she could, making Ryan move around the room, staring up at the oil lamps, spending some time with him in front of the opened windows, testing the extent of his vision.
“Definitely some return of sight, Ryan. Nothing much to write home about. Not yet. But a quantum leap forward from total blindness.”
“Will it carry on improving?” Doc asked. “Remember a man I knew called John Stuart who had a horsea real championcalled the Old Campaigner. John was losing his sight, but he decided he wanted to ride her one more time. And all the boys around the ring”
“We heard that story before, Doc,” Krysty interrupted. “Good story, but we heard it.”
“You asked if it would carry on getting better, Doc,” Mildred said. “Answer is, I had no way of knowing if Ryan would ever see again. Even the blurry lights with a hazy halo around each of them. Even the slightest movement. Since I didn’t know that, then there’s no way I can give you a continuing prognosis. I just hope it carries on improving.”
“When did you first think you might be able to see?” Krysty asked.
Ryan hesitated. “Can’t really say. Just sort of noticed that bright light seemed to be penetrating.”
“Bright lights.” J.B. said. “Now that’s something we should talk about.”
The discussion, argument and planning went on for several hours.
Ryan had never come across a situation where the enemy appeared to be literally indestructible.
That, combined with the fact that the Family held Dean as hostage against the good behavior and obedience of the others, meant that composing a combat strategy was uniquely difficult. Normally their powerful weaponry lay heavy on their side of the scales. Here it seemed almost valueless.