CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

"Wait!" said Professor Childermass in his weak voice. "Let these children go free, and I will give you what you want."

Mergal paused. He lowered the staff. "Prove it," he said. "Show me that you know what I desire, and I will consider your offer."

Professor Childermass cleared his throat. "You are seeking a relic of Esdrias Blackleach," he said, "a carving in the shape of a left hand, done in ash wood."

Mergal's deep-set eyes flared, and his brown teeth showed in a sharklike grin. "And you know where this artifact is, hmm? Just as I suspected. Oh, you were stubborn, old man! But now you will tell me."

"Only if you let John and Sarah go free."

The brown grin became even more unpleasant. "No, no, my friend. You have it backward. You will tell me where you hid the hand, and then, if I recover it, I may let your young friends off easily. Of course, you will still have to suffer for being so haughty and proud. You never expected to get away unpunished, did you, hmm?"

"We appear to be at a stalemate," the professor said. "I assure you, if you so much as touch either of these two young people, you will never know where the hand is hidden. And if I possibly can, I'll destroy the wretched thing, or have someone else destroy it."

Mergal actually snarled, like an animal. "Fool! You do not understand its great potency! If you should even crack its little finger—" Mergal broke off. His grin came back. "Ah, clever, aren't we, hmm? Tried to trick the stupid old wizard, didn't we? The game isn't that easy, my friend!"

Johnny stood behind the professor. When the door of the church first opened, Professor Childermass had quickly tucked the hand into the waistband of his trousers, against his spine. Its fingers stuck out now, waving. Mergal glared at Johnny. "There's one score the boy and I must settle. He destroyed something of mine! I don't know how the brat did it, but he broke a very pretty spell. I felt some of my power go with it. To get it back I will have to perform a blood sacrifice."

The professor crossed his arms. "We won't get anywhere like that," he said. "Tell me, Mergal, what do you propose to do with this blasted wooden hand, anyway? Are you going to chop down a tree and carve a one-handed department-store dummy to go with it?"

Mergal pushed the heavy door behind him, and it swung closed with a dull thud. "Ah, well, it wouldn't interest a scholar, the story of our humble experiments in the mystic arts. People don't believe in magic anymore, hmm?" He tried a smile like a horrible simper. He looked like the world's oldest baby trying to trick his mother into giving him a cookie. "But, the hand is, ah, a requirement for some astrological studies. Yes, yes, that's it. The hand will enable me to forecast the future accurately. To see what stocks are going up, and what stocks are going down—"

"Watch it, Professor!" Johnny yelled. "He's usin' his voice to try to hypnotize you! He did it to me back in his house!"

Mergal snarled. "Perhaps I shall take a large darning needle and sew your tongue between your lips. That would teach you not to interrupt!"

"Forget it, Mergal," the professor said. His right hand eased behind him, close to the wooden wrist jammed under his belt. "You were lying, anyway. The hand has nothing to do with astrology."

Mergal snorted. "I suppose you know better."

"I know a little about magic," the professor said. "I know, for instance, about the Hand of Glory. That's the severed hand of a hanged man, dried and treated with oils. If you have one, you light the fingers like candles. As long as they are burning, you can creep into anyone's house without waking the occupants. It seems to me that such a thing would be ideal for a sneak thief like you!"

The man in black had crept to within a few feet of the others. He snickered, an unpleasant sound. "You're completely wrong," he said. "Yes, there is such a thing as the Hand of Glory, but the Blackleach hand is altogether different. Different and more powerful, hmm?"

"Yes," the professor said. "Maybe it doesn't put people in a trance at all. Maybe it opens a gate."

Mergal's face contorted. "How much do you know?" he rasped. Then his jaw became set and grim. "No matter. I can see there is no dealing with you. I shall have to use my powers to impress you, hmm? You want out of this place, don't you? In a minute you shall be quite free to leave—if you dare!" He spoke more words, raised the staff in his hand, and brought it whistling down. It struck the floor of the church with a loud rap.

"Listen," Mergal said with a grin. "Hear that?"

Johnny heard a rising wind. He knew that Mergal had called up another storm, like the one he had summoned on the Fourth of July. "Very impressive," said the professor. "Although I don't see what good it does you."

The small window in the door rapidly darkened. Then a flash of lightning and a furious peal of thunder shook the whole place. "It does me this much good," said Mergal. "I will send these children out, one at a time, and the lightning will take them. Then you can follow them."

"But only I can tell you where the hand is," replied the professor.

"I really don't care anymore. Once you are gone, I will simply buy your house—I'm quite wealthy—and take it apart, plank by plank and brick by brick. I needed the hand by the beginning of next month, but I can wait another year if I must. I have waited all my life." He pointed his long, bony finger at Sarah. "You, girl. Leave now. The other two will watch. They will see how far you get."

Another blast of lightning and thunder made Sarah scream. Then the professor grabbed the hand and held it out. "Why wait?" he asked Mergal. "If you want the hand, here it is. Take it—if you can!"

"Ah!" Mergal's eyes lit with an evil glow. He leaped forward, his right hand outstretched—

The professor danced back, tauntingly. "Run to the door!" he shouted. "Be ready to head for cover!"

The crow leaped off Mergal's shoulder and swooped at them. Sarah swatted at it backhand, and she hit it. The bird squawked and tumbled. Johnny and Sarah ran to the door and hauled it open. The day outside was frighteningly dark—until a bolt of lightning flashed to earth just outside.

Johnny dimly heard the professor chanting strange, outlandish words. Then he saw the old man toss the hand to Mergal. Johnny saw Mergal whirling and spinning madly. He had caught the wooden hand in his own left hand, and it must have clutched him in its fierce grip. Mergal screamed and reeled, dropping his staff, as the professor ran toward the door.

A swirling black whirlpool opened in the air behind Mergal. The wooden hand tugged him toward the darkness. Johnny heard Mergal's high-pitched, terrified shrieks. Then the darkness engulfed the wizard. At that moment the professor yelled, "Run for it!" All three of them spilled out of the church. As they reached the street, a tremendous blast of lightning, the biggest yet, smashed into the church. The shock knocked them off their feet.

Johnny rolled over, his ears ringing. The black clouds roiled overhead, then began to dissipate with magical speed. The roof of the old church was on fire. The flames spread terrifically fast, sparks flying like magic to the gray house a quarter mile away. Fire raced up its sides, gnawed at its pillars and gingerbread decorations. With a whump! the windows blew out, and orange fire began to pour from the empty frames.

The professor stood on tottering legs and helped Johnny and Sarah up. "It's over," he said. "Thank God, it's over now."

Johnny was sobbing. Sarah turned and buried her face against the professor's shirt, and he awkwardly patted her shoulder. People were coming out of their houses to gawk at the blaze. From town came the screams of sirens. The fire trucks were on their way.