Mathieu (19 page)

“You’d think.” Mathieu shrugged. “But sometimes you only see what you want to see, even if that keeps you from seeing the truth of the matter.”

“Manders wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, either.” Dwayne shrugged. “Not to be disrespectful but she’d never win any national spelling bees or anything like that. She was sweet and all that but if I were pressed on it, I’d have to say she was as dumb as a rock.
Her
daddy took care of her and she knew it. She sucked up to that man like there was no tomorrow.”

Mathieu nodded as he folded the letter in his hands and placed it carefully back into the pile on the table. “I know the type. Except for the ‘dumb as a rock’ bit.”

“Don’t get me wrong. She was a total sweetheart in her own stuck-up way. But she definitely knew how her bread was buttered.”

“Her father.” Mathieu looked at the pile of letters and shook his head. “He did her a disservice if he never prepared her for something like this.”

Dwayne stood up and pulled the pot out of the coffee maker, putting a mug in its place. “I don’t know about that. How could you ever prepare anyone for something like this?”

Mathieu watched the bitter black liquid fill the mug and then watched Dwayne quickly switch the pot back in again, barely spilling a drop in the process. “I would assume that a background in your Foundation would give some kind of idea that these things were possible.”

“Possible and probable are two different things.” Dwayne gulped his coffee and winced when it burned his tongue. “For example, it’s
probable
that something incredibly bad is going to go down here. It’s
possible
that some of us might live through it.” He swirled the liquid in his mug and then spoke again. “It’s all a matter of interpretation.”

“I see.” Mathieu looked up as Marcus entered the room. The man’s blonde hair stood up in wet spikes as he shuffled across the kitchen to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Marcus grunted as he poured a cup. He winced as he drank. “Jesus, Dwayne. What’d you use to make this? Used motor oil?”

“Drained it out of the truck myself. Quit your bitchin’. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

“Don’t want hair on my chest. It’ll ruin my boyish looks and my wife’ll be repulsed. You know she likes her men androgynous. I’m damned lucky I don’t have to wear eyeliner to get laid.” Marcus dug
through
the cabinets to find something to eat. “I know you don’t want the dissolution of my marriage on your conscience.”

“Only if I can take up with her after you’re gone.” Dwayne shrugged. “Not that she wouldn’t drive me insane after a few weeks.” There was an uncomfortable silence as both Mathieu and Marcus stared at him. “I didn’t say it’d be a far trip.”

“Further than you might realize.” Marcus had found a box of granola bars and pulled one out. He gnawed at it, occasionally dipping it in his coffee to soften as he chewed.

Mathieu shook his head at them and started shuffling the letters absently.

“You two ready to take a look at those wards in the woods?” Marcus gestured with his chin in the general direction of back door.

“Awful early.” Dwayne poured himself a second cup of coffee. “You sure you want to be out of here before everyone else is up?”

“Absolutely. You know how Susan is in the morning. I’d rather avoid the entire dog and pony show of her and Eddie getting out of the house if at all possible.”

“Fair enough.” Dwayne finished his coffee and placed the empty mug in the sink. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” He left the room and a few seconds later the door to the hall bathroom slammed shut.

“How are you this morning?” Marcus asked as he dumped the contents of the coffee pot down the sink.

“Fine.” Mathieu raised an eyebrow as Marcus pulled out a bag of coffee beans from under the sink and filled a grinder. “Why are you doing that?”

“It’s long held ceremony between me and Dwayne. He screws up the coffee, I come behind him when his back is turned and fix it.” Marcus shrugged. “He knows I do it, and I know he knows. It’s one of those little private jokes that people share, I guess.”

“Oh.” Mathieu looked down at the table again. “I assume you want to be out of here so early because of me?”

“
Are you offended?” Marcus carefully measured water into the coffee maker and turned it on.

Mathieu thought for a moment before answering. “No. Not especially. If I were in your position, I’d probably do the same.”

“Good. Last thing I want to do is offend you or do something that’ll drive you off. But I also can’t take the chance of something setting you off like last night. I hope you understand that.” Marcus grabbed a clean mug from the cabinet and started mixing sugar and cream in it. He carefully exchanged the mug for the pot and then put the finished cup in front of Mathieu. “This WON’T put hair on your chest, thank God for small favors. I have no clue how he drinks what he makes. I can barely choke down enough to fake him out and I could swear that shit was digesting the granola bar.”

He dumped the remains of his own mug out and filled it directly from the coffee maker before coming to sit at the table. “The way I feel it we’ve got two main wards at the back of the property and then two up front that don’t seem to be as strong. Which one do you want to look at first?”

Mathieu wrapped his hands around the mug, feeling the warmth seep through into his bones. “They’re set on the cardinal points. If they’re laid out in a traditional way, the key point would be on the north, in the woods.”

“Okay. North it is. Hear that, Dwayne?” Marcus said as Dwayne walked back in with damp hair, shaven chin and a clean plaid shirt and jeans.

“North.” Dwayne poured a new cup of coffee and gulped it down. “Not half bad. The stuff must mellow when it sits.” He winked at Mathieu as he put the empty mug back in the sink. Marcus chuckled under his breath.

C
hapter Twenty - Eight

The woods were green and full of life. Birds sang from the trees, small creatures rustled in the undergrowth and a light breeze blew through branches. Around them all the sounds that life made filled the air but there was an increasing sense of stillness as they came closer to the edge of the wards.

Dwayne hummed quietly as he walked. Sometimes he looked up quickly and muttered words under his breath as if he were answering unheard questions.

Mathieu walked quietly behind, avoiding the twigs and piles of leaves that Marcus and Dwayne bulled through. He cast his senses out, ignoring the racket the two of them made with their footsteps and quiet muttered words.

Stopping, Mathieu looked down at the ground around his feet. “It’s somewhere here. Help me look.”

He fell to his knees and started sifting the dead leaves and dirt. The others did the same.

Digging into the earth, Mathieu sorted small stones, worms, insects and tree roots into the category of “not what he was looking for”. He swept the ground cover away in a growing circle, every sense alert for that muted source of power he felt throbbing under his feet.

“I think I found it.” Marcus’ voice was hesitant. “I think. It feels strange, though.”

Brushing
off his hands and then the knees of his pants, Mathieu stood and walked over to what Marcus had found.

What he had found was largish stone of what appeared to be granite. Flecks of mica glistened in the sun in counterpoint to the slow, deep throb of power it emitted. It had been hidden under a half rotten log that Marcus had tipped to one side. Even now beetles and grubs scurried back under the leaves and shredded bark.

Mathieu ignored them, instead squatting down to run his hands over the face of the stone. It was covered in green moss and half buried, but it still thrummed with power.

“This is it.” Mathieu looked around and found a solid piece of bark. He dug around the base of the stone a few inches and then scraped the moss from its face.

Carvings emerged as he worked but they were old and worn, barely legible.

“What’s it say?” Dwayne asked from behind.

“I’m not sure.” Mathieu dug some more of the moss off and then shrugged. “I think it’s a name. It begins with an L. I think that’s a W at the end. And some numbers. Maybe a date?”

“1795,” Marcus said quietly. “That would explain why the wards feel so old. But it doesn’t explain why they feel so different.”

“They feel different because they’re not exactly wards.” Mathieu brushed his fingers across the stone and traced the carved symbols, frowning at the name Gaap in the middle of an especially complex series of figures.

“If they’re not exactly wards, what exactly are they?” Dwayne shifted from one foot to the other as he asked.

“I’m not sure.” Mathieu followed the line of power from the cardinal point to the next stone. “I told you before that most wards are built from living energy and that they collapse when the builder dies because that source of energy is gone. These were laid to outlast their creator for a long, long time. He powered them off the earth and woods instead of
from
his own body. That’s why the ones up front don’t feel as strong—they’re on a road with less to draw on.”

“But why put them up in the first place? To warn people away?” Marcus reached over and dug more of the rock free.

“I don’t think so. Wards like that tend to redirect the head-blind without their knowledge. Sensitive people get ill or react to a physical barrier. There’s nothing here to suggest that was ever the builder’s intention.”

“So,” said Dwayne as he lowered himself onto a stump. “We don’t know who put them up or why they’re here.”

“I didn’t say we don’t know who put them up.” Mathieu rubbed the face of the rock as he spoke. “Even if the spell itself is unfamiliar, the style and feel of it are unmistakably the Foundation’s. I’ve felt enough your organization’s people poking around my wards to recognize that much.”

“Wait a minute.” Marcus stopped digging. “You’re saying that someone from the Foundation laid these wards over two hundred years ago.”

Mathieu considered the question for a moment and then nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s bullshit.” Dwayne leaned forward and pointed at the key stone. “If that was the case then the Foundation would have known everything about this fucked up house before Amanda was even born. Hell, before her great-great-granddaddy was even a twinkle in his daddy’s eye.”

Mathieu looked from Marcus over to Dwayne but said nothing.

“That’s bullshit,” Dwayne repeated. “Right?”

“I don’t know.” Marcus answered weakly.

Mathieu cleared his throat. “I’m going to try something. I need you two to stand back and follow the power line to the eastern cardinal.”

“What are you doing?” Marcus leaned forward and peered at Mathieu with a raised eyebrow.

Mathieu
placed both hands firmly on the stone and then looked up. “I’m going to try and power the spell up enough to see what the original carvings were. If I’m right about how this was set up, we should be able to figure out what the purpose was from that.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Marcus raised an eyebrow in question.

“If I’m wrong we’ll know exactly what we know now—not much. We won’t know any less.” Mathieu paused and then continued. “Or maybe I’ll trigger some kind of trap. I’m thinking if I only power the one leg, that won’t happen.”

“Oh.” Marcus stepped back. “You sure you don’t want any help with that?”

Mathieu smiled grimly. “You both know the nature of my power. You don’t know the strength but I can assure you that you don’t want to be too close to me should my control slip again.”

Dwayne looked at Mathieu with strange, distant eyes. “The power is what you make of it, Little Bro. It doesn’t matter how you got it. What matters is what you do with it now that you have it. That’s what makes the difference between damnation and redemption.”

After a long pause, Dwayne shook his head and then stood up. “What? What are we waiting for?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Marcus shook his head slightly in warning to Mathieu. “Let it rip.”

Mathieu braced his hands firmly and closed his eyes. The power coiled and leapt at the opening given but he wrestled it down again. “Control. Control this.” He exhaled and said the words quietly to himself.

The power fought him. It knew he needed more than the barest trickles he used up to now. It threw itself at him and fought him for freedom, coiling around the base of his stomach and around his arms.

“No. Not again. Not this time.” Mathieu set his jaw and forced the power back down. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he grappled with it and forced it to obey.

The
stone grew warm under his hands, the worn letters glowing between his fingers. With a deep breath he directed the power towards the east, towards the next cardinal and a stone that he knew rested somewhere in that direction with similar carvings.

A line in the ground started to glow, the light diffused by the leaves and undergrowth. “Follow it,” Mathieu rasped to the others.

Marcus grabbed a fallen tree branch and started sweeping the detritus away from the luminous path. Every one hundred feet there would be a brighter spot. He didn’t take time to investigate fully, choosing instead to follow the glowing trail to the eastern cardinal. The leaves were slick in places and the ground was uneven, making it difficult to get to parts of it, but the points continued on in perfect alignment.

“Found it.” Mathieu heard the words as if they were spoken next to his ear instead of what seemed to be several acres away. With a deep breath he lifted his hands from the stone and watched the letters shimmer before they faded into worn shapes.

“William Ludlow. 1795.” Dwayne read aloud from over his shoulder. “That’s a familiar name for some reason. Maybe someone important from the Revolution?”

Mathieu rubbed his hands together, trying to remove some of the dirt smudged there. “I wouldn’t know. After my time.”

Dwayne snorted. “Smartass.” He gestured towards the east. “Ready to go find Marcus?”

“In a moment.” Mathieu looked at the vegetation around the rock closely. It was alive and unharmed. Insects trundled through and around leaves that had already been dead previous to his arrival. That was reassuring. He nodded and stood. “Ready.”