5
The knocking startled Jack. No one was supposed to be knocking on his door.
Weezy raised her head and gave him a questioning look from where she was sipping coffee and studying the Compendium. Morning light filled the windows. The air was redolent of microwaving Taylor Ham and cheese.
He stepped to the closet beside the door and pulled the Glock from the top shelf by the katana.
Weezy’s voice held a note of exasperation. “Is that necessary every single time you answer the door?”
“Don’t know,” he told her in his most patient tone. “Can’t know till I see who’s at the door—then I’ll know if it’s necessary.”
Whoever had knocked was either a neighbor or someone who had got past the entrance without buzzing up. He put his eye to the peephole and blinked when he saw a familiar old woman dressed all in black.
“Not necessary,” he told Weezy as he opened the door and allowed Mrs. Clevenger to enter. Her three-legged dog followed.
“Knowing you,” the Lady said, “I thought you would have fewer questions if I looked this way.”
“You thought right,” he said as he replaced the Glock on the closet shelf.
“Your ivy is dying of thirst,” she said as she passed the Shmoo planter.
Jack was sure she hadn’t even glanced that way.
“Good morning,” Weezy said, rising.
“Not so good.” The Lady’s expression was grim. “Something is wrong. Something that doesn’t belong in this world has entered it.”
Jack and Weezy looked at each other and spoke simultaneously.
“The Fhinntmanchca.”
The Lady frowned. “You think so?”
Weezy stared. “You don’t know? But you’re attuned to—”
“I’m a product of this sphere and, yes, I am attuned to it. But as I told you, certain doings involving the Otherness are hidden from me.”
“I had a call from the Oculus. She had another Alarm about it. She says the Fhinntmanchca is here, in the city.”
“But for what purpose?”
“No one knows,” Weezy said. “I’ve been hunting through the Compendium for days now, but—”
The Lady waved a hand. “Don’t expect to see it in black and white. It is something you will have to piece together yourself, for not even Srem knew the purpose of the Fhinntmanchca. No one but the Seven ever knew.”
“The Seven,” Weezy said. “The Compendium mentions them time and again.”
The Lady nodded as she seated herself in the big wingback chair. The dog settled on the floor next to her. The Shmoo planter sat near her elbow.
“Water this now. It suffers.”
Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
As he headed for the kitchen, she said, “The seven mages who championed the Otherness in the First Age. A huge cult grew up around them. They controlled the q’qr hordes. They almost succeeded in bringing this sphere under the domination of the Otherness. The Fhinntmanchca was part of that plan, but none of it ever came to fruition, and by time the First Age came to an end, only one of the Seven remained alive.”
“Let me guess who survived,” Jack called from the kitchen as he filled his coffee cup with water. He fought an urge to imitate the Church Lady. “Could his name begin with R?”
“Yes, the Adversary. Unwilling to share power when the Otherness became ascendant, he killed off his six fellow mages one by one until only he remained.”
“And so the Seven became the One,” Weezy said.
“Yes. But the Otherness was defeated, and then came the cataclysm and the end of the First Age, and all of his intrigue and murderous plotting proved for naught.”
Jack returned to the front room and poured some water into the planter.
“Until now,” Weezy said.
“What do you mean?” The Lady caressed the ivy and its leaves immediately plumped up and deepened in color.
“It seems that somehow, some way via Opus Omega, he has succeeded in creating or summoning the Fhinntmanchca.”
The Lady stiffened and stared at her. “Via Opus Omega? What do you mean?”
Weezy explained her theory about using the Orsa to create the Fhinntmanchca.
The Lady looked concerned. “So if you are right about the Fhinntmanchca being a by-product of Opus Omega, that means the Fhinntmanchca will be used against me.”
“Why is that?”
“Very simple: The purpose of Opus Omega is to destroy me.”