animal either. He envisioned giant rats—the city might be crawling with them. Maybe they came out at night for food. And maybe they were looking for a nice pile of fresh, sweaty meat.
It was the dome or nothing.
Rushing out of his hiding place, Alex ran down the street. With every step the monstrous bird loomed larger. And with every step the animal sounds increased. Faster. Gasping for air. Finally he was beneath the statue’s wings and could see the place where the ghosts had vanished. It was solid rock. But he only glanced at it. He was fifty feet beyond the sculpture when the animal sounds began coming from everywhere.
He stopped and froze.
A block ahead something was pushing through the vines. Out of the shadows crept dozens of huge black dogs. The animals had seen him. One gave a low growl that was answered by all the rest. He tried not to panic. Slowly he turned his head to see if they were behind him. His heart sank. The street on the other side of the bird was filled with them. He was surrounded. But then he noticed that at the base of the statue was a small open door. Maybe he could get to it.
More growls.
The dogs were coming toward him.
Very slowly Alex began to turn, hoping the gradual movement wouldn’t be noticed. But it was like a trigger. Instantly the street was filled with enraged snarls…and they were after him.
He ran for his life. When he reached the statue, the dogs were only a few feet behind. Rushing inside, he found an iron door that was still on its hinges. Though it was old and creaked horribly, he managed to slam it shut and throw his shoulder against it just as the first of the beasts arrived. In a mindless rage they threw themselves against the rusted metal. Alex knew he couldn’t hold them off for long. Groping in the dark, his fingers found a latch.
Shoving it in, he tested it.
It held.
For the moment he was saved. Dripping with sweat, he staggered back—the snarling and crashing were horrible. How long could the door withstand such a beating? He scanned his hiding place; the statue was hollow all the way to the top. Moonlight flooded in through its carved-out eyes. There was just enough light to see that once, long ago, this must have been a storage chamber. Twenty feet up was a ledge, and a primitive ladder had been gouged out of the wall to reach it. Rushing to it, he began to climb.
A moment later Alex sprawled onto a platform of dusty stone and there he lay in an exhausted heap. Outside everything grew still. With an eerie abruptness, the howling stopped and the dogs ended their attack. He struggled to his hands and knees. Through a small crack he could see the street. It was filled with black dogs. Each sat in absolute silence, with its eyes fixed on the statue. What had made them grow quiet? It was almost as though they had heard a command.
Suddenly, the feeling came over him once more. He was being watched.
And the Watcher was somewhere above.
He looked up.
The moonlight had vanished. Suspended in the dark was a glowing blur. For a moment everything was still. Then, as he stared in horror, the blur began to descend. He heard again the scream that had brought the phantoms, coming from a face with huge luminous eyes, but this time there were words in it. Over and over it shrieked…
“ Unclean …
Unclean …
Raging colors
In rotting green …
Lord of Shadows…
Unclean…
Unclean .”
9
THE SEVENTH FRAME
T here were no soft dreams for Tori.
In fact, there were no dreams at all.
When she awoke, she found herself wrapped in a warm blanket, alone on a bed in a small bedroom. Always before, waking up in strange places would frighten her. But now there was only confusion.
Where was she?
It seemed to be the middle of the night.
And there had been some kind of sound.
She sat up. Everything was quiet. Pale moonlight shone in through a gabled window. Of course, Bellwind’s house. She smiled as she remembered. This must be one of the rooms in the tower. With
It was the dome or nothing.
Rushing out of his hiding place, Alex ran down the street. With every step the monstrous bird loomed larger. And with every step the animal sounds increased. Faster. Gasping for air. Finally he was beneath the statue’s wings and could see the place where the ghosts had vanished. It was solid rock. But he only glanced at it. He was fifty feet beyond the sculpture when the animal sounds began coming from everywhere.
He stopped and froze.
A block ahead something was pushing through the vines. Out of the shadows crept dozens of huge black dogs. The animals had seen him. One gave a low growl that was answered by all the rest. He tried not to panic. Slowly he turned his head to see if they were behind him. His heart sank. The street on the other side of the bird was filled with them. He was surrounded. But then he noticed that at the base of the statue was a small open door. Maybe he could get to it.
More growls.
The dogs were coming toward him.
Very slowly Alex began to turn, hoping the gradual movement wouldn’t be noticed. But it was like a trigger. Instantly the street was filled with enraged snarls…and they were after him.
He ran for his life. When he reached the statue, the dogs were only a few feet behind. Rushing inside, he found an iron door that was still on its hinges. Though it was old and creaked horribly, he managed to slam it shut and throw his shoulder against it just as the first of the beasts arrived. In a mindless rage they threw themselves against the rusted metal. Alex knew he couldn’t hold them off for long. Groping in the dark, his fingers found a latch.
Shoving it in, he tested it.
It held.
For the moment he was saved. Dripping with sweat, he staggered back—the snarling and crashing were horrible. How long could the door withstand such a beating? He scanned his hiding place; the statue was hollow all the way to the top. Moonlight flooded in through its carved-out eyes. There was just enough light to see that once, long ago, this must have been a storage chamber. Twenty feet up was a ledge, and a primitive ladder had been gouged out of the wall to reach it. Rushing to it, he began to climb.
A moment later Alex sprawled onto a platform of dusty stone and there he lay in an exhausted heap. Outside everything grew still. With an eerie abruptness, the howling stopped and the dogs ended their attack. He struggled to his hands and knees. Through a small crack he could see the street. It was filled with black dogs. Each sat in absolute silence, with its eyes fixed on the statue. What had made them grow quiet? It was almost as though they had heard a command.
Suddenly, the feeling came over him once more. He was being watched.
And the Watcher was somewhere above.
He looked up.
The moonlight had vanished. Suspended in the dark was a glowing blur. For a moment everything was still. Then, as he stared in horror, the blur began to descend. He heard again the scream that had brought the phantoms, coming from a face with huge luminous eyes, but this time there were words in it. Over and over it shrieked…
“ Unclean …
Unclean …
Raging colors
In rotting green …
Lord of Shadows…
Unclean…
Unclean .”
9
THE SEVENTH FRAME
T here were no soft dreams for Tori.
In fact, there were no dreams at all.
When she awoke, she found herself wrapped in a warm blanket, alone on a bed in a small bedroom. Always before, waking up in strange places would frighten her. But now there was only confusion.
Where was she?
It seemed to be the middle of the night.
And there had been some kind of sound.
She sat up. Everything was quiet. Pale moonlight shone in through a gabled window. Of course, Bellwind’s house. She smiled as she remembered. This must be one of the rooms in the tower. With
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