Mathieu

by Irene Ferris

  Mathieu shook his head and then tore off a small piece of cheese and fed it to the cat. “Your heart is far from black. Trust me when I say I’ve met much worse.”

  “The food is for you. You need to eat.” Jenn spoke firmly this time. “Trust me when I tell you that cat eats better than any person in this house.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he does. But that doesn’t mean I can’t share with him, does it?” He tore off a small piece of croissant and nibbled it. “Happy?”

  “No.” She paused and then asked hesitantly, “Do you need to eat? I guess I should have asked that first.”

  He smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I know I can go a long time without eating or being hungry, but I also know that I enjoy it upon occasion.” He shrugged. “I suspect the answer is somewhere in the middle between ‘no’ and ‘yes.”

  The cat meowed for attention and got another piece of cheese for its trouble. It sat and delicately washed its face, watching the humans on the bed.

  Mathieu watched her for a long moment and then spoke. “You aren’t as sensitive as Marcus, are you?”

  She took another sip of coffee and then shook her head. “No. How did you know?”

  “He felt the difference between my wards and the house’s wards immediately. You didn’t and I suspect still don’t.” The cat licked his fingers and got a scratch between its ears in return.

  With a laugh, she nodded. “Nope. And that’s the real kicker, too. I’m directly descended from one of the main founding members. I was born, bred and raised in the Foundation, studied all the tomes with every waking moment. I can draw a perfect circle, build a charm, form a compulsion because I’ve got the book learning. But Marcus--the man from a farm in Nebraska and no pedigree--he’s got the gift. He’s so sensitive and powerful he’s off the chart.”

  “Sometimes the power without the knowledge can be very dangerous.” Mathieu nibbled the croissant absently. “I seem to recall something of that sort the first time we met.”

  She nodded. “He’s been working on that. Very hard. It’s consumed him since we last met.”

  “Fearing another meeting?” Mathieu picked up a fresh strawberry and offered it to the cat. At the feline’s offended look, he half-smiled and ate it himself.

  Jenn drank her coffee and paused before answering. “Anticipating might be a better word, I suppose. After all, you’re fascinating. You’ve got the potential of being the most important discovery the Foundation has ever made. I know the Board of Directors has been debating what to do about you since we first met. Not even addressing the sheer amount of historical information you could give us, you’ve got knowledge and power of the like we’ve never seen and it would help us so much. That’s why we’ve been keeping tabs on you all this time.”

  “Of course, you’re not taking into account that I have absolutely no interest in helping you.”

  Jenn’s face tightened and then relaxed. “But you of all people know how dangerous and horrible occult creatures can be. And these… these things… they make anything else we’ve run into pale in comparison.”

  “Exactly. And that is why I want nothing to do with any of them ever again.” He carefully put the coffee cup back on the tray and pushed the plate of food over towards the cat, smiling as it started licking the cheese. “You saw first-hand what one of Gadreel’s ilk could do, and it wasn’t even trying very hard. It was more amused than angry.”

  She pouted for a moment before sighing. “Point made, I suppose. So what makes one of those things so much more dangerous than your ordinary run-of-the-mill supernatural being?”

  Mathieu shrugged. “Power. Demons are naturally powerful when they first come over from There, but as they expend their energy they get weaker. They’re not tied to this world so they can’t use what comes from here unless they find a way to filter and store it.” Unconsciously he crossed his arms and started rubbing them back and forth as he continued.

  “When they weaken, they lose cohesion and memory. Memory is knowledge. Knowledge is power and knowledge takes power. They keep themselves strong by using something else to hold all their power and knowledge all for them, something bound to this world and bound to them. They can take what they need at will without draining that which makes them what they are.”

  “Something else?” Jenn’s green eyes widened in understanding. “You mean a person. A Familiar.” She nodded. “I know the concept. In the old stories it’s usually an animal—a black cat or something.”

  “Familiar.” Mathieu said the word flatly as he stared ahead at nothing, not noticing the cat climbing back into his lap. “Another word for ‘slave’,” he continued as he looked at her. “Other words might be ‘toy’ or ‘plaything’ or ‘whore’.”

  She nodded again, her face concerned as she watched him still rub his arms. “Are you cold?”

  He looked down at his arms as if he’d not realized what he’d been doing. He forced his hands down and answered quietly, “No. I just don’t like to show my scars.”

  Jenn blinked. “Mathieu, you don’t have a mark on you. Your skin is perfect.”

  He looked down, ran his right hand up his left forearm. “I see them everywhere, all over my body. I’m not perfect. I’m filthy.” He brought his hands together, rubbing at invisible stains before visibly forcing them to rest on the bed.

  “Are you going to be okay when we leave this house?” She leaned forward and put a hand on the bed next to his. “Marcus said something about your wards keeping you together, but you won’t have wards when we leave.”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at her hand and very gingerly moved his own back into his lap. “I don’t know. I have my reservations. Is it time?”

  She checked her watch and nodded. “Yeah. We need to head to the airport. Mr. Devalle got a private jet chartered for us so you don’t have to worry about being crammed into a plane with a bunch of strangers. But we’ll still have to go through the airport to get to it and we’ll have to go through security.”

  She paused and then spoke again, twisting the coverlet on the bed with her fingers. “Hugh has really put a lot of time and money into getting your help. And put himself at odds with a lot of the Board of Directors, too. He only wants Amanda back. Put anything he might say to you through that filter, okay?”

  “I’ll keep that in mind while I recall his veiled threats.” Mathieu sighed as he stood up and vigorously brushed the cat fur from his pants, pausing to pick off the individual hairs that stubbornly lingered.

  “He only wanted the best for her. He’s a great dad, you know?” Jenn rearranged the dishes on the tray absently while she spoke. “I used to be jealous because Amanda had the best dad ever who let her be whatever she wanted to be, while I had the mean father who made me learn Hebrew and Latin and how to read the stars and cast runes. I mean, we all know what it’s like to occasionally feel like someone else’s parents would be so much better to you than your own, but with her I really did believe it. Didn’t you sometimes used to wish you had someone else’s parents?”

  Mathieu gave her a look that she couldn’t interpret. “No.”

  “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean…”

  “No.” He bowed his head to her and then picked up the suitcase from the corner. “You said nothing wrong. But it is time to go.” He looked at her for another long moment and then touched the wall and closed his eyes.

  There was an audible pop in her ears when his wards came down and she thought that she might have seen the slightest outline of something traced on the walls gleaming from the corner of her eye. It was gone before she could focus on it, though.

  “I need to get my stuff.” She stood up and gestured for him to follow her down the hall.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mathieu stood before the great door, staring at the spells of protection carved into the lintel.

  “This house was built in 1535 by the founding members.” A voice next to him said. Mathieu closed his eyes and leaned away fr
om voice.

  Hugh continued. “The door is original to that time period. The founding members were a loosely associated group of witchfinders who had come to the conclusion, separately and together, that there was something much greater than mere witches causing problems in our world. Something infinitely more powerful, something more insidious than a bunch of old women brewing herbals in the forest.”

  Mathieu turned to look at him and nodded. Hugh smiled and continued. “The witchfinders were rich from taking a portion of their victim’s estates. They invested that money and formed our Foundation so that we could learn more about our true enemies and defeat them. They built a chapterhouse here so they could work undisturbed.”

  “About two hundred years ago, this house came to the attention of some locals. As you can imagine, the comings and goings and mystical workings were hard to conceal. In order to keep our secrets, we decided to hide in plain sight. Some children spotted what they assumed to be the Virgin Mary and the church proclaimed a miracle. We built up the monastery and pilgrims come from all over the world to visit. We keep them in the front part of the complex, and we stay to ourselves in the back. It works amazingly well, and the power of all that prayer helps power our workings.”

  “Fascinating.” Mathieu turned to look at the door again, trying to work up the courage to walk outside.

  “Isn’t it?” Hugh put a hand on the wall. “Every support beam in the original house is carved with spells of protection and concealment. Isn’t it interesting how men of God used the very powers they were trying to destroy to protect themselves?”

  “The ends justify the means, perhaps?” Mathieu spoke absently, his eyes still on the door as he breathed deeply to calm himself.

  “Exactly.” Hugh smiled. “I’m so glad you understand that concept. It makes this so much easier. I thought you might predate the saying, but I suspect you’ve seen it in practice before.”

  Mathieu turned to look at Hugh before turning back to the door again.

  Marcus walked up, bag in hand. “Are we ready?”

  Hugh slapped Marcus on the back. “Good luck to you, son. I know you’ll do well despite everything.” He looked meaningfully at Mathieu. “After all, how many people are at De Gaulle at any given moment? Five thousand? Ten? And then at Kennedy in New York? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty thousand? And in New York City? A million people? Six million? You’ll have your hands full getting him to the airport on roads filled with tens of thousands of people, much less through security and customs and everything else that comes with it.”

  Marcus glared at the man while Mathieu’s eyes grew large at the thought of being surrounded by that many people with no wards. No protection. Nothing but their anger and fears and sadness and darkness.

  “That is so uncool, man.” Eddie’s voice came from the back of the hallway. “It’s not like he isn’t freaked out enough already. Did you have to do that?”

  “I can’t do this.” Mathieu spoke in a strangled voice. “I can’t.” He backed into the wall and stared at the group of people in the hallway. There were too many of them here in this safe place, much less on the other side of that door. How could he even have imagined making any kind of journey? “I can’t. I can’t trust myself.”

  “Mathieu,” Jenn came to stand in front of him. “Mathieu, you have to. We have to get you to Kinderhook and this is the only way.”

  Mathieu shook his head and cringed away from her. “I can’t.”

  “There is another way.” Hugh’s voice was silky. “You know there is.”

  Mathieu shut his eyes, rubbing his hands so hard that he thought he might start bleeding. There were too many people in the room and they were all looking at him, wanting something from him. It took everything in him to not curl up into a small ball and weep in fear and self-loathing.

  “What are you talking about?” Marcus sounded angry, Mathieu thought with a detached part of his mind—the part that wasn’t in full-on panic.

  Hugh spoke again, his voice smooth. “Teleportation. The use of magic to move people or objects from one place to another.”

  “Bullshit.” Marcus sounded even angrier. The very thought made Mathieu even more frightened. “You know as well as I do that’s only a theory. No one knows how to do that.”

  “He does.” Mathieu opened his eyes to find Hugh pointing directly at him. “You know he does. Those things do it all the time. He did it. How do you think he got to Rome? To the mountains? A Greyhound bus?”

  Mathieu looked over at Marcus, who was looking back at him. “Do you?”

  Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Mathieu nodded stiffly.

  “See. You don’t even have to leave this house to get where you need to be.” Hugh’s voice was right next to Mathieu’s ear. “He can tell you how to do it.” Mathieu turned away from the voice, eyes closed tightly.

  “Mathieu?” Jenn’s voice was full of concern. Mathieu opened his eyes to see her exchanging a look with Marcus. She turned and looked back at him. “Can you show us how to do that?”

  “Can I? Yes. Will I? No.” Mathieu wrapped his arms around himself and took a deep, gasping breath to prepare himself to step outside and deal with the world.

  “Why not?” Hugh’s voice was full of contempt. Mathieu looked at the older man who even now had his lip drawn up in a sneer. “We can’t use the spell against you. It’s not dangerous to you in any way for us to know. It only helps you get to where you need to be to save my daughter.” There was a pause before he spoke again. “Maybe we should bind you and compel you to show us the spell and get you to kill that thing.”

  Mathieu drew himself up to face the man. “If you bind me, I swear to you that you will have to compel me to every little thing. I will fight you step by step, breath by breath. I fought a creature darker than you could ever imagine for longer than your Foundation has been in existence. Your daughter will wither and die of age before you could force me to walk across this room, much less teach you a spell.”

  Hugh’s ears turned red, then his cheeks and then his entire face. His eyes narrowed with anger. Something inside of Mathieu uncoiled, feeling the emotion, wanting it.

  “Wait.” Jenn’s voice broke the tension. “Mathieu, please show us how to do it. Please.”

  Mathieu turned to look at her and then back at the door behind which all of world waited. Swallowing hard, he turned back to her and spoke quietly. “I won’t power the spell. I will leave nothing of myself here.”

  “Of course not.” Hugh jeered. “But don’t worry. We can do that. All you have to do is show us how to do it.”

  “Shut up, Hugh.” Marcus’ voice was flat and angry. “I don’t care who powers it as long as it gets us where we need to go.”

  “But of course.” Hugh bowed his silvered head mockingly to Mathieu and then to Marcus. “If you’ll follow me…” He shouldered his way past Marcus and Eddie and into a back hallway. “This way.”

  Marcus looked at Jenn who nodded. They both picked up their bags and followed Hugh into the back of the house. Eddie hesitated and then walked up to Mathieu and took his bag in addition to his own. “He’s an asshole but we have to follow him.” Eddie said it quietly but firmly.

  Hugh led them through hallways and passageways to the back of the house. Then through another ornately carved door and down a flight of stairs hewn from good stone that tingled with residual energy through Mathieu’s shoes.

  Pausing before another door, this one of black wood that glowed with spells in the dim light, Hugh turned back. “This is the best warded workroom we have. If you can’t work here, you can’t work.”

  He drew out a heavy key and used it to turn an ancient lock. Tumblers shifted and moved and the door swung open with a groan revealing another flight of stairs down.

  Mathieu paused at the threshold, peering down into the even dimmer light below. “You okay?” Eddie was still bringing up the rear, baggage in hand.

  “I’m walking into the deepest, darkest, most spell-bound roo
m of a duplicitous, dishonest order with a man who wants nothing more to enslave me, and you ask if I’m okay?” He glanced at Eddie. “No offense meant.”

  “None taken.” Eddie shrugged. “You call it as you see it. But do you have any other option of getting away from here without going to pieces again?”

  “No. I don’t even know how I managed it last night, truth be told.”

  “You barely did. You held on by your fingernails and sheer willpower.” Eddie shifted his weight. “Are you going down? These aren’t getting any lighter.”

  Mathieu took a deep breath and walked forward into the dimly lit passage. The magic was even stronger here, almost vibrating the air.

  He would not use any more of his power here. He should have known that going in, before his set his wards last night. Now that he’d drawn them back into himself he was not going to leave anything behind here that could be used against him. No skin, no hair, no fragment of himself, no residual power. Nothing.

  He didn’t need to use his power to illuminate the spells warding the room. They were so strong and laid on so deeply they revealed himself to his gaze with no urging.

  His feet finally hit the earthen floor of the cellar and the buzzing in the soles of his shoes stopped. The ground had been cleansed and was ready for a new working.

  It was a large room. Stone walls rose around them and met the wood beams of the house above them. The only concession to the modern age was the electric lights that had been strung above. Without those bare bulbs, he’d almost believe he was back in the days of his youth.

  A small table sat in the far corner and was covered with various tools. A sword, a knife, a flask of water, an oil lamp, rope and various other items.

  Mathieu glared at Hugh. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say that you were anticipating this.”

  Hugh shrugged and repeated grimly, “The ends justify the means. Do you want to activate the wards or shall I?”

  “Be my guest.” Mathieu stepped away from the wall as Hugh made a gesture and the room went still and dead.