The Templar Chronicles (52 page)

She waved away his thanks, her gaze moving about the room, searching. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she turned to face him.

“Where is she?”

Trying to keep the grin of amusement at her single-minded focus off his face, Cade inclined his head toward the stairs. “Spare bedroom, last door on the left.”

Denise Clearwater was a witch. A hedge witch, actually. Able to use the power inherent in Nature to bend reality to her will. Nothing drastic, just a nudge here and there, when time and circumstance demanded it. He’d met her several years before when Echo was forced to deal with a nest of minor demons that tried to lay claim to Long Island. Operating on the age-old principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, Cade had agreed to an alliance with Clearwater and her coven. With the two groups working in conjunction with each other, they were able to isolate and ultimately banish the infernal creatures back to their own realm. Clearwater herself had set the wards that would keep the portal from opening again for another thousand years and it was her obvious mastery of that talent that had brought her to mind when he found himself in his present circumstances.

Without knowing exactly what the Adversary had done to Gabrielle, Cade didn’t dare have her body in his home without some kind of protection around it. A set of wards seemed to be just what the situation called for.

Designed to guard a specific location or object, wards were one of the mainstays of modern magick. They came in two types; minor and major. Minor wards were just what the name inferred; minor magicks that could be used to protect an object or a location for the short term. These could be performed by a single individual with limited preparation, often on the fly. Major wards were another story entirely, intended to last indefinitely and requiring several days of preparation by a sorcerer with considerable power, using several acolytes to assist. They were not undertaken lightly and the slightest mistake could have disastrous consequences. Major wards that failed outright often ended in the deaths of all involved in the casting.

Not only could wards be used to keep people away from a particular location, they could also be used to keep someone or something confined. In this case, Cade hoped to use the wards to shield Gabrielle’s body from outside interference while at the same time providing him some protection should the Adversary have left any unexpected surprises.

Cade followed Clearwater up the stairs but remained in the doorway so he’d be out of her way. He watched as she wandered slowly around the twin bed, observing Gabrielle’s body from every angle. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she reached out and tried to lay her palm on Gabrielle’s forehead.

Much to Cade’s surprise, she was unable to do so.

She tried again, with the same result. Each time her hand would stop a few inches above Gabrielle’s flesh and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get it to go any closer.

She stepped back, clearly puzzled. Cade was, too. Neither he nor Riley had any problem moving Gabrielle from the cemetery.

“Is there…?”

She held up a hand, stopping him in mid-sentence. Digging into the satchel at her side, she rooted around in its depths until she drew out a long-handled mirror. She made a few odd-looking gestures over it with her free hand and then exhaled heavily on its surface, fogging the glass. Before it could clear she held the mirror over Gabrielle and stared into its depths.

A grimace crossed her face.

Cade opened his mouth, intending to ask what she was doing, but the intense expression on her face made him change his mind. Instead, he waited patiently for her to finish.

After a second longer look in the mirror she put it down and turned to face him.

“Your wife isn’t dead,” she said.

CHAPTER FIVE

Having expected her to come to that conclusion, particularly after the Necromancer’s comments and his own experience with the body, Cade wasn’t surprised by her announcement. He focused on the practical aspect of the situation.

“How can that be?”

Clearwater sighed and sat back on her haunches. “I don’t know exactly. It’s as if she’s stuck in that moment between life and death. Here, look.”

She waited for him to join her, kneeling beside the bed, and then lifted the mirror again.

“This is a scrying mirror. Normally I use it to locate an object or person that I’m looking for, like the way a dowsing rod is used to find water. But it can also be used to view an object more clearly, to look beyond the obvious. In this case, I used it to “see” your wife’s body, hoping it might show me something about the binding that you mentioned on the phone. What it showed me…well, you’d best see it for yourself.”

Clearwater repeated her actions with the mirror, but this time angled it so Cade could see what it had to show.

A glimmering web of deep blue energy wrapped itself around Gabrielle an inch or so from her flesh, a literal reminder to Cade of how they had been trapped in the Adversary’s web like two hapless flies. Yet that wasn’t what had caught Clearwater’s attention. Beneath the binding, Gabrielle’s body was covered by a shadow of the deepest grey Cade had ever seen, darker even than the angry summer storm clouds he’d watched roll across the plains as a child.

“What is that?” he whispered, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Clearwater’s answer was matter of fact. “Her aura. Or what’s left of it actually. Her spirit, her soul if you will, has clearly left but her body still lives on in some strange fashion. It seems trapped outside the natural cycle of entropy, held in that particular moment of time, which is why we’ve seen no sign of decomposition or decay. She might not be breathing, but I wouldn’t necessarily call her dead.”

“So what does that mean? Is there anything that can be done about it?”

Clearwater shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue. That one’s way above my pay grade, so to speak.”

The knight commander mulled it over.

“Can you still cast the wards?”

“I don’t see why not. Since they affect the space around her, rather than her directly, I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Agreeing the wards were probably the best bet for the time being, at least until Cade understood a bit more about what he was dealing with, the two of them settled down to work. Cade helped Clearwater pull the bed away from the wall and then moved the rest of the furniture off to the side of the room, giving Clearwater plenty of space in which to work. While she disappeared downstairs to get a few things from her car, Cade took a small folding table out of the closet and set it up a few feet away from the bed, giving Clearwater a platform from which to work. When she returned she was carrying a cardboard box. She put the box on the floor and began sorting through it, occasionally taking an item and placing it on the table Cade had set up for her. It wasn’t long before there was an odd assortment of items there. Cade recognized the brass thurible and the incense boat that went along with it, though he hadn’t seen one outside of a Catholic Mass before. The same thing could be said for the silver chalice that she set beside them. He wasn’t sure if the bottle of water was a part of the ritual or just in case she got thirsty, but he figured he’d find out soon enough. A large red candle, several long wooden matches, and a jar of what looked to be salt completed the ensemble.

Clearwater took several chunks of incense cake from inside the boat and placed it in the base of the thurible. She lit the incense with one of the matches and, picking up the thurible, moved to the head of the bed.

“Interrupting me once the casting has begun can be dangerous for both of us, so no matter what you see or hear, stay out of the circle and out of the way.”

Cade indicated that he understood.

Clearwater lifted the thurible and blew in through one of the holes on the lid, fanning the burning incense so that yellow smoke began to pour forth. Satisfied with the color and density of the smoke, she turned to the east and began gently rocking the thurible back and forth on its chain.

She walked a slow circle around the bed, the incense hanging in the air as she passed, creating a ring of yellow smoke that followed in her wake and filled the room with a thick, cloying scent. When she returned to the head of the bed and the ring of incense smoke was complete, she drew the shutters on the thurible, preventing any more from coming out.

She resumed her starting position, facing away from the bed, her hands lifted to either side. “O Guardian of the East, Ancient One of the Air, I call you to attend us this night. I do summon, stir and charge you to witness our rites and guard this Circle. Send your messenger among us, so that we might know that we have your blessing, and protect us with your holy might.”

A light breeze caressed Cade’s cheek, stirring his hair. Within seconds the breeze strengthened to become a wind, churning the ring of smoke around the bed, spreading it out and pushing it upward until it formed a hazy yellow dome that surrounded the area Clearwater had marked out with her steps.

The smoke stung Cade’s eyes and tickled his nose, as he strained to see through its depths. Through the haze he could see Clearwater still standing where she had been moments before, but now her clothes stuck to her frame as if pushed there by a gale-force wind and her long hair streamed out behind her as if held by ghostly hands. Her gaze was directed upward, over her head, and Cade couldn’t help but follow her line of sight.

His mouth dropped open in surprise.

A giant bird of dark grey smoke hovered above her, stirring the air inside the circle with every powerful thrust of its great wings. Even as he watched, it turned its head toward him, its beak opening, its empty eyes piercing him to his very soul, and in the back of his mind he heard its shrieking cry of hunger and warning.

Cade glanced away, unable to meet the naked threat in its eyes, and when he looked back Clearwater was alone. The bird was gone, as was the dome of yellow incense smoke.

Clearwater turned and, catching the expression on his face, gave him a wink before moving back to the table and preparing for the second part of the ritual. She returned the thurible to its position and picked up the candle and another match. She walked around the bed until she faced the south this time and then placed the candle on the floor directly in front of her. Striking the match against the wooden floor, she lit the candle.

“O Guardian of the South, Ancient One of the Flames, I call you to attend us this night. I do summon, stir and charge you to witness our rites and guard this Circle. Send your messenger among us, so that we might know that we have your blessing, and protect us with your holy might.”

No sooner had she finished speaking that the candle flame flared up like a bonfire, flooding the room with scorching heat. For just a moment Cade thought he saw a large, dragon-like creature made entirely of flames standing before Clearwater, but then the flame returned to normal and whatever it had been, if it had been there at all, was gone. The candle was once more just a candle and Clearwater stood alone.

Leaving the candle in place, she took up the chalice. She filled it with water from the bottle and moved to the end of the bed, facing Cade where he stood in the doorway. She raised the chalice in front of her and called out a third time.

“O Guardian of the West, Ancient One of the Waves, I call you to attend us this night. I do summon, stir and charge you to witness our rites and guard this Circle. Send your messenger among us, so that we might know that we have your blessing, and protect us with your holy might.”

Nothing happened.

Another minute ticked passed.

Then two more.

Without warning a thunderclap roared throughout the room. No sooner had the echoes died away that rain poured from the ceiling, hammering them in a torrential downpour. Something large and wet loomed overhead, like a wave about to break over them, and in the next instant the rain stopped and Clearwater, Gabrielle, and the room around them were dry.

Cade, however, was soaked to the skin, his hair plastered against the sides of his head.

Apparently even the Guardians of the Quarters have a sense of humor.

Seeing him, Clearwater cracked a bemused smile and then went on with the ritual.

Taking the jar of salt, she moved to the bed for the final time. Facing north, she uncapped the bottle and began retracing the steps she’d taken when using the incense burner, pouring out the salt into the floor in an unbroken line as she went.

The by-now familiar incantation accompanied her. “O Guardian of the North, Ancient One of the Earth, I call you to attend us this night. I do summon, stir and charge you to witness our rites and guard this Circle. Seal this Circle with your strength and let neither man nor beast break it until the Word is given.”

As she said the last, Clearwater stepped to the other side of the salt line and brought the two ends together in an unbroken circle that completely encircled the bed. When the two ends touched there was a sudden trembling in the floor beneath their feet and the line of salt changed in a heartbeat from white to a deep forest green. A new kind of tension filled the air, as if every molecule had gained an additional charge.

“Well now, that should do it,” Denise said, stepping back from the circle as she replaced the lid on the jar of salt.

Cade looked at Gabrielle’s unmoving body atop the bed and the line of salt that surrounded it. “That’s it?” he asked, not quite sure what it was he’d been expecting but knew it certainly wasn’t a line of green sand surrounding his wife’s body.

Clearwater glanced at him.

“What were you expecting? A host of heavenly angels to stand guard?”

“Can you do that?” A scream of angels would be perfect. The last one he’d run into had scared the hell out of him; he had no doubt that Gabrielle’s body would go unmolested with them standing watch.

Clearwater let out a sharp bark of laughter. “If you’d wanted that, you should have called Mother Church rather than a beaten-up old hedge witch.”

“You’re not old. And I don’t want the Church involved. But come on, a line of green salt? What’s that going to do if the agents of the Adversary come knocking?”