Part 29 (1/2)

Approaching footsteps.

She drew back automatically, eyes fixed on the altar. The footsteps were louder now. She was unconscious of Fischer's hand restraining her. She gaped at the altar. The sounds were getting louder every second. The floor began to shake. It was as though an unseen giant were approaching.

Edith whimpered, pulling constantly at Fischer's grip. The footsteps were almost deafening now. She tried to lift her hands to s.h.i.+eld her ears but could lift only one. The chapel seemed to shudder with the thundering noises coming closer, closer. She jerked back hard, her cry of panic engulfed by the t.i.tanic, cras.h.i.+ng footsteps. Closer; closer. We're going to die, she thought.

We're going to die!

She screamed as a violent explosion filled the chapel; closed her eyes involuntarily.

Deathly silence made her open them.

She lurched back, gasping. Fischer held her. ”Don't be afraid.” His voice was taut with excitement. ”This is a special moment, Edith. No one's ever seen his nibs before; not unless they were about to die, that is. Take a good look, Edith. Meet Emeric Belasco. 'The Roaring Giant.'”

Edith gaped at the figure.

Belasco was enormous; dressed in black, his features broad and white, framed by a jet-black beard. His teeth, bared in a savage grin, were those of a carnivore. His green eyes glowed with inner light. Edith had never seen such a malignant face in her life. Deep within the frozen dread she felt, she wondered why they weren't being murdered at this very moment.

”Tell me something, Belasco,” Fischer said. Edith didn't know whether to feel rea.s.surance or terror at the brazen insult in his tone. ”Why didn't you ever go outside? Why did you 'eschew the sunlight,' as you put it? Didn't care for it?

”Or was it better hiding in the shadows?”

The figure started toward them. Released, Edith drew back quickly, horrified to see Fischer move forward.

”You walk with a labored tread, Belasco,” Fischer said. ”You dominate your movements at a cost, don't you?”

He shouted abruptly, fiercely, ”Don't you, Belasco?”

Edith's mouth fell open.

Belasco had stopped moving. His features were ablaze with fury, but it seemed, somehow, a fury of frustration.

”Look at your lips, Belasco,” Fischer said, still advancing. ”Spastic pressure holds them together. Look at your hands. Spastic tension holds them fisted at your sides. Why is that, Belasco? Is it because you're a fraud?”

His mocking cackle rang out in the chapel. ”Roaring Giant!” he shouted. ”You? My a.s.s! You bulls.h.i.+t artist! You sawed-off little freak!”

Edith caught her breath. Belasco was retreating! She rubbed a shaking hand across her eyes. And it was true.

He did did look smaller. look smaller.

”Evil?” Fischer said. He moved at Belasco steadily, a look of ruthless animosity on his face. ”You, you funny little b.a.s.t.a.r.d?”

He stiffened as a cry of anguished rage burst from the lips of the dwindling figure in black. For a moment Fischer couldn't react. Then the grin returned. ”Oh, no,” he said. He started shaking his head. ”Oh, no. You couldn't be that that small.” small.”

He started forward again. ”b.a.s.t.a.r.d?” The figure drew back farther. ”b.a.s.t.a.r.d? That disturbed you? Oh, Belasco. What a funny little man you really were. What a funny little crawling bug of a ghost. You weren't a genius. You were a nut, a creep, a deviate, a slob, a loser. disturbed you? Oh, Belasco. What a funny little man you really were. What a funny little crawling bug of a ghost. You weren't a genius. You were a nut, a creep, a deviate, a slob, a loser. And a sawed-off little b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the bargain! And a sawed-off little b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the bargain!

”BELASCO!” He howled. ”Your mother was a wh.o.r.e, a s.l.u.t, a b.i.t.c.h! You were a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Emeric! A funny little driedup b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Do you hear me, Evil Emeric? A b.a.s.t.a.r.d, b.a.s.t.a.r.d b.a.s.t.a.r.d, b.a.s.t.a.r.d, b.a.s.t.a.r.d! b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”

Edith flung her hands across her ears to shut away the hideous wail that gorged the air. Fischer stumbled to a halt, his features washed of fury by the sound. He stared at the nebulous figure behind the altar-cowering, rat-faced, beaten-and it seemed as though he heard Florence's voice in his mind, whispering: Perfect love casteth out fear Perfect love casteth out fear. And suddenly despite everything, he felt a sickened pity for the figure standing there before him.

”G.o.d help you, Belasco,” he said.

The figure vanished. For a long time they could hear a screaming, as of someone falling down into a bottomless pit, the sound fading slowly, until the chapel was still.

Fischer moved behind the altar and looked at the section of wall revealed by the torn wallpaper.

He smiled. She'd shown him this too; if only he had known.

Leaning over, he pushed at the wall. It opened with a grating rumble.

A short staircase declined in front of him. He turned to Edith and extended his hand. She didn't speak. Moving across the chapel, she circled the altar and took his hand.

They descended the staircase. At the bottom was a heavy door. Fischer shouldered it open.