The Geomancer (15 page)

Adele put a comforting hand on his back. “I trust them too then. But perhaps we should still go in through the roof to be a little unexpected.”

Without question, Gareth slipped off through the heavy brush. Adele followed, keeping low. They reached the wall that towered above them and he stooped slightly as a sign for her to wrap her arms over him. She shifted the pack on her back and took hold of his strong shoulders. He leapt high, seizing the stones and ivy with powerful fingers, and scrambled up the side of the building like a lizard with Adele clinging to him. He swung from window embrasure to ledge, pushing upward, and kicked off a crumbling cornice. He snatched the low railing at the eaves and vaulted over it onto the flat grey roof. They crouched silently, waiting and searching.

“Can you smell anything?” Adele whispered.

“Just death. Again. We need to get under cover. I can see vampires in the distance, so they could see us.” Gareth gave Adele a sign to proceed with great caution on the creaking rooftop and slipped along the eaves until he reached a jagged hole in the slate. He knelt by the edge and quickly inspected the interior. He snatched Adele around the waist and dropped to the floor far below. All around them the flaking remnants of paintings covered the walls, showing only staring eyes or random lacy sleeves. Gold leaf peeled from ceilings to fall unheeded with dead leaves on the filthy floor.

They moved cautiously through a series of chambers. Every room was a forgotten remnant of the old world, the failed hubris of the human north. They found no sign of life, only the occasional skeletons of long-dead vampire meals.

Adele and Gareth came to a small room that joined the north wing with the main part of the old chateau. Pausing to listen and smell, Gareth glanced ahead. Adele felt a rush of nausea. She put a hand on Gareth's shoulder to stop him moving forward until it passed as quickly as it had come. At her nod, they started off again.

Before them a vast gallery stretched the length of the main chateau. Rows of windows looked out over the feral gardens. The space glittered in the late-day sun because of the remnants of endless mirrors. Light reflected off the walls and from shards swept into piles on the floor. The clearing of the glass here was the first sign of human attention to order.

Something sparkled oddly and caught Adele's eye. It wasn't a sliver of mirror. It was a crystal lying on the floor in the center of the long gallery. Near it was another, and another. Numerous crystals were scattered throughout the mirrored corridor. No, not scattered. They were placed in a very specific pattern. It was a geomantic arrangement marking a complicated quincunx design on the floor.

Adele ventured out into the great hall of mirrors. Gareth followed, tense to their surroundings. She studied the pattern of crystals. This sort of applied geomancy wasn't her strong suit. Even so, she could sense the crystals before her were burned out of their power. Likely all their unique facets were shattered or melted. When she went to step inside the quincunx, Gareth grabbed her.

“It's fine,” she said. “These stones are spent. They're harmless, like an exploded bomb.”

Adele moved inside the geometry of crystals, but she felt nothing. She gazed out through a partially broken glass door that overlooked the vast piazza below. A new wave of nausea washed over her. An expansive gravel yard stretched out below her. Dark shapes dotted the pale stones, lying around stagnant pools.

Dead bodies. Hundreds of cadavers littered the grounds near the palace and many more were barely visible farther out, collapsed amidst the brush of the overgrown gardens. They all lay in different positions, as if they had simply fallen dead while standing in formation. Most were partially decayed from exposure. Some had been half-eaten by predators, and there were marks in the gravel where some bodies had been dragged off by dogs or wolves.

Adele saw more crystals down among the dead. She couldn't see the full extent of their placement because of distance, failing sunlight, and the overgrowth. However, from what she could view, she knew those crystals were organized in the same geometric patterns as the ones in the gallery where she stood. She knelt and picked up one of the crystals on the floor. Its empty touch chilled her, but she could acquire enough of a sense to know it was local. It was a stone from here in Paris, from virtually under their feet. She tested the others and found the same thing. She realized she had been crouching in the center of the quincunx for some time when she looked up to see Gareth staring anxiously at her. She tossed the sad cold crystal down, and then swept the pattern out of existence with her arm.

“He murdered all of them.” Her voice was rough with frustration and rage. “All those people out there.”

“How?”

“He seems to be drawing on the power of the rifts with his crystal arrangements.” Adele pointed to the field of the dead on the grounds of Versailles. “And then he is replicating this same pattern out there, on a larger scale.”

“But those are humans.”

“I know. He is doing the same thing to humans that I did to ­vampires.”

“How is that possible? Is that something you could do?”

“No,” Adele replied bitterly. “I have no idea how he's doing it. Damn it. I can't believe he is self-taught. He knows more about geomancy than I do, and I went to school for ages.”

Gareth kicked a crystal aside and pulled Adele to her feet. “I smell traces of him. This way.” He led them out of the mirror gallery toward the front of the chateau. In these chambers they found evidence of cooking, and there were clothes strewn about.

Gareth put objects to his nose and smelled deeply. He tasted the handles of spoons and pencils that he found scattered about. “It's been a week or so since he's been here.”

They stepped into a small room off the bedchamber and Adele's eyes immediately went to a table covered in crystals. Some of them had been smashed by a hammer and chisel that sat nearby. A strong hand lens rested on the table too.

She took one crystal in her hand and it pulsed with life. Even the revolting pall over the area couldn't completely block her out from the stone's essence. She tasted bright sun and a hint of lemon. She squeezed that crystal in fury. “Alexandria. This stone is from
home
. Why would he have it?”

Adele put a trembling finger into the coarse dust of one of the shattered crystals. This stone was as dead as those in the mirror gallery. Only the faintest hint of place slipped across her tongue.

“Bruges.” Adele brushed the cold dust from her hands. “This crystal is from Bruges where that death camp was located.”

She turned away from the table and noticed a stack of large, thick paper lying on the floor. When she approached, she saw it wasn't paper; it was canvas. Paintings. Portraits of kings and queens. Still lifes of fruit and wild game. Battle scenes. Most of them were heavy oils painted hundreds of years ago, long before the Great Killing. The paints were faded and the canvases ill-used from age and lack of care. They all had been cut or torn from frames and now lay on the floor of the Witchfinder's room. How odd that he had a penchant for old art.

Adele sorted through the paintings. Then she noticed something odd. There were marks on the backs of each canvas. They were strangely familiar lines and symbols, seemingly chaotic and random.

“Damn!” Adele shouted with recognition, as she flipped over canvas after canvas. “No. No.”

“What's wrong?”

“Look at this.” She held up one of the canvases so he could see the scribbles on the back.

“What is it?”

“Ley lines. The Witchfinder is mapping the lines.” Adele continued to shift the thick sheets. “Look at these labels. Carnac, in Normandy. Incredible. I've never seen the rifts so thick. And here's what looks to be a complete map of Britain. And here's Paris and southern France.” She went rigid with shock and gripped one of the canvases so tight it tore under her fingers. “Alexandria.”

“Are they accurate?”

Adele made a quick study of the Alexandria map, trying to orient her knowledge with the peculiar style the Witchfinder used. “I think so. It's hard to read this, but I think he has the gist of it. I can't believe it.”

“What does that mean?” Gareth joined her to look at the canvas.

Adele caught a glimpse of the book he was holding. “Where did you get that?”

He pointed to a small shelf in the corner, where three old tomes rested. He held it out to her. It was well-worn and roughly used. The spine read
On Concentrative Reflexes.

“It's a seminal geomancy treatise by the great scholar al-Khuri. It's very rare. I've never seen one; only read excerpts.” Adele opened the volume. “Oh God!”

“What?”

She placed a finger on a bookplate pasted on the inside cover. “This book belonged to Sir Godfrey Randolph.”

“The surgeon?”

“Yes. The very one who saved my life when I was stabbed in Alexandria.” She opened the three other books and found the same plates inside them. “He also has one of the greatest libraries of the esoteric in the known world. He was a close ally of Mamoru's, until Mamoru went insane.”

“How did his book get to vampire Paris? Is Sir Godfrey a traitor?”

“No, I can't imagine. Sir Godfrey told me that a number of his books had disappeared from his home in Giza over the last few years. We know his brother, Lord Aden, collaborated with your brother, Cesare. I'll bet Lord Aden stole the books and sent them to Cesare to deliver to the Witchfinder. Sir Godfrey had a complete set of Mamoru's ley line maps; it's possible Aden copied those as well.” Adele sighed and flipped through the tome. She drew in a sharp breath.

Gareth looked at her expectantly.

“Look at these notes in the margins,” Adele said. “I assume they're written by the Witchfinder, and it looks as if he had conversations with another man, a skilled geomancer.”

“So he did have a teacher. His skill isn't so mysterious now.”

“Perhaps. His teacher was Selkirk.”

Gareth gaped in alarm. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. The Witchfinder writes here in glowing terms about
Doctor
Selkirk and his extensive knowledge of geomancy. And how much he learned from him.” Adele shut the book with a cloud of dust. “First, we're going to burn all these charts. Then it's time to go home and have a chat with
Doctor
Selkirk. He should be easy to find. He's been in prison in Alexandria since he tried to kill me.”

C
HAPTER 14

The warmth was heavenly. The hazy sun rejuvenated Adele even though it was late winter and hardly the balmiest day in Alexandria. The thick salty mist rolled into Victoria Palace, where she stood on a balcony overlooking the choppy Mediterranean. If only it had been summer and she could have ventured into the desert to bake in the shimmering sun. Only then Adele realized how the damp of Britain kept her from healing as much as she should.

Gareth's young enthusiasts in Paris hadn't been happy with his abrupt departure, but Kasteel believed Gareth would return. Adele wondered if he would. She believed that the potential those young vampires offered could not be forsaken. Gareth had seemed less enamored of their importance in the grand scheme of history.

However, it was not an issue they could pursue at the moment. It was the Witchfinder who had to be pursued. He had the power to blunt Adele's geomancy, but more, he could kill in ways that Adele couldn't understand. So she and Gareth had rushed back to the coast, signaled the
Edinburgh
, and set sail for Equatoria.

There was a knock on the door to Adele's private office. She felt a surge of girlish excitement and grinned like a fool as she dropped her mother's notebook onto her desk and waited for the door to open. Simon stood with his own giant grin on his incredibly grown-up face, but before he even shouted her name, the lad froze. His features melted into disbelief. General Anhalt stood behind Simon, but Adele was locked on her brother's surprising reaction.

“What's wrong, Simon?” Adele forced a chuckle and inspected her dress as a nervous joke. “Am I so far out of fashion already?”

The boy didn't try to cover his distress. “You're so old. You could be thirty.”

“Oh.” She exhaled in relief. Simon hadn't seen her since the event in Edinburgh last year. She came to the door and embraced him. “Well, look at you. You're like a young man now. I see father in you.” She reached out one hand toward the hallway. “Dear General Anhalt. I'm so glad to see you again.”

The general kissed her hand. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I did try to prepare him.”

“Yes, my appearance has changed a bit.” She tightened her arms around her brother, realizing that he wasn't hugging her back.

“A bit? You've aged a decade in a year!” Simon pushed back from Adele with a gasp of terror. “Oh no! Is Greyfriar old too?”

“No. He's still delightfully youthful. You two can play together while I huddle beneath a shawl.”

Simon exchanged a sour glance with the expressionless Anhalt. “Well, getting old hasn't made her
less
cranky.”

“Prince Simon.” Anhalt clapped a firm hand on the lad's shoulder. “I pray you control your hyperbole. Your sister is the empress and has the army under her command.”

Adele inclined her head and tried to stare down imperiously at her sibling. “Listen to him.”

Simon rolled his eyes and then regarded her a bit more softly. Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her the enthusiastic embrace she craved. “All right. I suppose it's not that noticeable. I
am
happy to see you. It's horribly dull when you are not here.”

She relished the feel of his oddly strong arms around her neck. “Oh how I've missed you!”

“I've missed you too.” He looked past her into the office with typical boyishness. “Where's Pet? Did he come back with you?”