Giving it a spiteful look for its emptiness, he prepared for bed.
~*~
The next morning, the suns rose bright and early. Mathieu rose with them. Looking at the ceiling, he kicked the blankets off, toes curling. This day was different from the others he’d been through. Avian’s lessons had been canceled for the gathering and he had been given the day off until that night. This suited him well because he wanted a chance to go see Grandpa. He seemed to have an extensive knowledge of things that weren’t…normal, if the few times Mathieu’s had visited him were any indication.
Grandpa might know about his mystery book and he had a driving desire to know, because it was making him insane. Getting up, he showered and dressed for the day in jeans and a frilly white shirt. By now, he didn’t bother fighting with the women about the clothing left in his dresser because he never won. Slowly but surely, he was now dressing and walking like a girl. He pull his long hair up into a ponytail. In the short weeks he’d been there, the white strands had taken on a lovely luster and had grown to almost below his ribs. It was getting very long and needed a trim. It was just one more thing to get done that day before the party.
He scooped up his book and shoulder bag, going into Avian’s portion of the large room. Placing a sweet kiss on her cheek, he snuck out of the room, taking up the keys to the carriage from their hook on the wall. Avian had taught him to drive it, which he did rather proficiently, if he did say so himself.
The drive took a bit longer than when Avian drove because he got lost twice; which was significantly less than the last time he drove there. However, once he got into the warehouse area, he was able to find his way. He only had to ask three people for directions, and they were none-too-happy with his description of ‘a store in a warehouse that sells lots of crap and is ran by an old man with a cane’.
Not surprisingly, the store was exactly as it had been each time before, minus his two new companions. He and Tesla had learned to tolerate one another because they needed each other in a weird sort of way: Mathieu was the only one who could hear him and Tesla was able to teleport him to Avian in an emergency. Although, he avoided using that mode of transportation because it left him feeling rather off kilter. Nikola, however, was much more easy-going. She was younger and had a way of lifting his spirits; she was his constant companion. Nikola was even with him now, tucked into the depths of his bag, fast asleep.
“Grandpa? You around here?” He hollered, looking around at the small colored orbs on a shelf. Each was labeled with a different trait: kindness, curiosity, pride, courage, and so on. Picking up courage, a marble size orb of a rich gold color, he rolled it in his palm.
A grumble from the depths of the store told him where the old man was. He wove through the shelves to the back corner of the building, orb still in hand, where a collection of odd weaponry was assembled. Grandpa sat sharpening some curved blade that looked to be part of a set.
“Oh, Avian’s little friend. How can I help you?”
Putting his actual desire on hold, Mathieu held up the orb. “What is it?”
Fixing the younger man with a look, Grandpa peered at the orb. “Courage. You swallow it and the magic helps you find that trait within yourself.”
“Hm. How much do you want for it?” He asked, looking at it. Perhaps it would be helpful.
The wizen man grunted. “Eh, keep it. No one wants those anymore. So what do you really want?”
Mathieu put the courage into a pocket of his shoulder bag, then sat on the counter and took up a long, thin blade that balanced well in his hand. “You know a lot of things, right? Well, I was wondering if you could tell me about a book.” The blade sung as he gave it a little swing.
“Put that down. What kind of book?”
Sticking his tongue out, Mathieu set the sword down, and fished around in his bag. That was something he liked about the old man; Grandpa never beat around the bush. Mathieu’s fingers brushed over Nikola lovingly before withdrawing his book and holding it out to the man. “I…picked this up from my last house. It’s blank and I don’t know what it is, but it seems like…er, something.”
Grandpa set aside his whet stone and the curved blade. He took the book from Mathieu and flipped it open. The pages were filled to the brim with writing. “It seems pretty full to me.”
His jaw went slack. “What the--”
“Is it not normally like that?”
“No. Normally it’s blank.” Mathieu reached out and took the book in his hand, forcing it to suddenly return to its normal, empty state. “See?”
Grandpa swiped the book back, the pages filling again. “Hm…I believe I know what this is, but where did you get it?”
“My last house. I already told you that.”
The old man gave him a flat glare. “I know that, but who was its previous owner?”
Mathieu chewed the inside of his cheek, looking away. He didn’t want to tell Grandpa that he was pretty sure it had come from a witch, so he just didn’t say anything.
Laughing the man pulled out his glasses and slid them on, eyes scanning the page for a moment. “I see. That is how it is.” Grandpa said in response to the lack of forthcoming information. “Well, let’s see here. Hm…mhm….yes, yes…hm…”
Mathieu watched the man for a time before rolling his eyes. “Christ, do you know what it is or not?” He exclaimed.
“This, Avian’s little friend, is a helping book.”
“A what?”
“You don’t know anything, do you?” Grandpa tossed the book back at him and took up his work again. “A helping book is a type of magical object that tries to satisfy the reader’s needs. Each one is different, and this one seems to be aimed with the future. When I read it, it talks about running a store and managing tips and such. For someone who wanted to be a jeweler, it might teach them how to tell a good jewel from a bad one, how to cut and set them, that sort of thing.”
Mathieu considered. “Okay, that’s nice and all, but then why is it blank for me?”
Tilting his head, Grandpa contemplated for a moment. “Well, these sorts of things are kind of fickle. Maybe it thinks that protecting Avian isn’t the final step for you, so it doesn’t see a need to help you yet. Something much bigger is on the horizon, I suspect, and you don’t know what it is. Once you figure it out, I’m sure the book will fill itself and help you. This is rare magic, so I’d recommend that you not let that book fall into unfriendly hands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He said with a nod and watched the older man work for a while. Finally, curiosity overwhelmed him. “What is all this stuff?”
“Hm? Oh, these. They’re weapons from other countries. Those,” he motioned to rack of weaponry behind a wall of glass, “are Korinthian bred.”
Amazement coursed through him and the urge to touch them became overwhelming. He hopped off the counter and slunk to the glass cabinet, looking at the lock. Closing his eyes, he grasped the lock and let his energy flow into it. His control had greatly improved since he’d come to Ateri; Avian had forced him to train with Demetri until he was able to fight as well as the bigger guy could, only he was without a weapon. That had meant that he’d needed to refine his control until he could unlock a lock in seconds along with concentrate his energy down to a solid form, creating something of a weapon. It was strenuous work, but he greatly enjoyed and made progress rather rapidly.
The lock clicked open and he reached into the cabinet.
“Don’t bother. Normal people can’t wield them.”
“I’m not normal.” Mathieu said, not mentioning the fact that he had just unlocked a lock without a key. Reaching into the cabinet’s depths, he wrapped his fingers around the body of a long bow made of some glowing material. It hummed lightly in his grip and his eyes began to lighten to from their normal purple to a light mauve. The bow fit comfortably in his hand and pulled on his energy, wanting to mingle with it. The sensation was odd, yet it was comforting the way the archery weapon’s own energy
twined with his to create a seamless connection.
Grandpa frowned. “Be careful with that…It was a gift.”
Mathieu waved him off in a rather rude manner, sliding his fingers along the delicate curve; a thin line of glowing energy appeared where the string should have been. As he pulled the energy string back, an arrow of the same energy formed, ready to be shot. “This is beautiful.” He slid the string back into place without firing it before hanging it back on the rack.
His long digits danced across the other weapons, his energy being pulled by each one in turn. Instead of taking any more down, however, he closed the cabinet and put the lock back in place.
Grandpa watched him curiously. “You really aren’t normal, are you, kid?.”
Grinning, Mathieu put his hands on his hips with a shrug. “Yep. Listen, I appreciate your time, but I need to get going. Have a few more errands to run before Avian summons me home.” He put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll try to bring Avian by again real soon. And…Tesla wanted me to tell you that he’s doing well.”
“That’s very kind.” Grandpa nodded Mathieu out with a genuine smile, calling after him, “Have fun at the party.”
Leaving the store, Mathieu drove back to the palace, thinking over what he had learned. The bit about the book explained quite a bit about why he found it so useless at present, but what he found more interesting had been his interaction with the Korinthian weapons. It made sense that others couldn’t interact with them, considering that the weapons were imbued with the planet’s energy. Among the things he’d recently learned, he’d been taught to sense others around him that held a ‘genetic mutation’. Narrie had been the first he’d managed to sense. Her and the power she possessed, which Avian called ‘waterdancing’.
It was strange to feel people like him so close. And from what Avian had said, it seemed as though he’d be coming into contact with more like himself tonight, if the rumor that most Korinthians were mutated was true.
Pulling in and parking the carriage, he hopped out and went into the main building. Tesla was waiting just inside the door for him, sitting on a table so he wouldn’t be missed, tail flicking with irritation. Did you give him my message? The Shadowrider prompted almost immediately.
“Good to see you, too. Take me to where I can get my hair cut; then I’ll tell you if I told him.”
A small growl rose from Tesla’s feline throat, but he leapt from his perch to the man’s open arms. Darkness pooled around them, pulling him into the depths of a realm that only
Shadowriders could navigate. Soon they re-emerged just before a door to the castle’s barber.
Mathieu took a moment to steady himself; it felt like his insides were still settling into place. Supposedly, and he knew this from Nikola, if he spent more time in the space in-between, he could learn to navigate without them. He would also, apparently, feel less nauseated when he came out. It wasn’t a theory he wanted to test, however. Finally having collected himself, Mathieu peeked into the barber’s shop and was pleased to find it empty. “Hello?”
Did you tell him or not? Tesla interrupted in his head.
“Jeez, yes. I told him.” Mathieu said with a roll of his eyes, stepping fully into the room. “Hello?” He called again.
The barber came out of a back room, wiping his hands on his pant legs. “Who’s this? Oh, Avian’s body guard. Tell who what?”
The white-haired man shrugged one shoulder. “Nothin’. I was just kind of talking to myself.” He chuckled and sat in a chair. Telling people he could talk to a cat thing was not something he was very fond of, so he played it off. “I know that this is last moment, but could you just trim the dead ends off of my hair? I’m sorry for the trouble…”
The barber smiled. “Not a problem.” He guided Mathieu to the chair and started to brush out the mass of wavy curls. The barber sprayed down the white hair until it hung limply and began to clip the ends.
So what else did you learn? Tesla questioned, curling up in his lap. Despite how much they may pretend to hate each other, they still belong to one enough like spatting siblings.
Mathieu let his eyes slide closed as his hair was worked on. They would be there for a while. I learned about that book and saw some weapons from Korinth. They were interesting.
Sounds so. Are you ready for tonight? The Shadowrider nibbled along his finger.
A silent chuckled filled the space between them. Oh yes, I learned a waltz overnight in a dream.
Well, Nikola is good at a waltz, but you’ll need to take me so I can force you to keep your manners about you.
Avian said that you could go, no need to convince me further. Mathieu scratched behind the feline’s ears. Just relax, won’t you?
A soft purr filled Mathieu’s mind. I’m stressed because you aren’t. Cockiness is unbecoming. Tesla arched into the stroking fingers and made a ’murr’ out loud. They sat there quietly for a long time, the only sound being the soft hiss of scissors snipping hair.
The man finished with his hair and Mathieu thanked him profusely. Digging in his pocket, he tipped the man before leaving the little shop, carrying Tesla as they made their way up to Avian’s room; he dumped Tesla onto the vacated bed. A large chunk of the day had passed so it wouldn’t be easy to pin down Avian while she was deviating from her daily schedule. But maybe that was better because that would give him some time to finish up the things he had in his mind to finish.
Narrie came in with a basket full of laundry to be folded. “Oh good, you’re here. Help.” She threw a pair of pants at him, which he barely caught, and set the basket down. “So, I mended Avian’s dress and fixed the cuff on your suit. Your tie had a rip in it, so I had to find a replacement. I picked another one, silver, and put it in your closet.”
“Thanks, Narrie. Very sweet of you.” He folded the pants before picking up another article of clothing to be folded and laid it on the appropriate person’s pile of clean laundry. “You’re a lifesaver. And I wasn’t sure how to fix her dress, or I would have.”
“No worries. It only took me a few minutes. I told her that she had to be careful with that thing. The seamstress isn’t always very good at making clothing as durable as needed.” She rolled her eyes and scooped up her clothes. Narrie disappeared into her room to put it away; her voice was slightly muffled by the wall. “If you want to score major points with Avian, go down to the garden and pick a flower for her hair before it gets done. She likes little things like that.”
Mathieu had been thinking of doing something like that. “Yeah, I think I will. A tiger lily.”
Narrie came out and began to put away Avian’s clothes, stowing them in the two different dressers. “Yellow would make her dress pop, but red or blue would accentuate her eyes.”
“I like the blue ones best. That’s what I’ll get her. What time is her hair getting done?” Mathieu said, pulled out the pocket watch Avian had given him and checked the time.
Closing her eyes, Narrie thought. She had all of Avian’s schedules memorized. “Hm…5:30, I believe. She normally starts getting ready about two hours early.” She shrugged. “By the way, is your hair shorter?” The woman asked with a critical eye.
“I only had like an inch trimmed off. The ends were dead.” Mathieu said defensively and pushed it over his shoulders self-consciously, then he took his laundry and put it away before setting his shoulder bag aside. He fished Nikola out of its depths and set her on his pillow.
She puffed up slightly before glowing brighter and changing forms to her feline self. Mathieu, what time is it? Do we get to go to a party yet?
“No, hun. Sleep some more if you want. I’ll wake you in a bit.” He said, petting under his chin. “I won’t forget you.”
Mmph. What time is it?
Mathieu huffed and tugged lovingly on her ear with two fingers. “It’s just after 5 o’clock, okay?”
Nikola stretched, then curled back up, eyes sliding closed. Mathieu kissed her head before leaving her alone.<
br />
~*~
The garden was lovely during the day. The flowers were reaching for the suns, singing softly as they swayed in the breeze. Quickly, this place had become his favorite area on the grounds. The tiger lilies were all together, circling the area where a beautiful wrought iron bench sat in the center of the mini-maze. They ranged in color from red to blue, green, purple, and a few shades in between. Smiling, Mathieu knelt beside the blue ones. He began to hum softly, delicately touching a petal. The flower in question rose to him, rubbing against him. They were curious little things.
Wrapping his fingers around its stem, he focused his energy and created a smooth, clean cut. Pulling it free, he cupped his hands around it, and encased it in a ball of energy; the flower floated up from his hands and hovered there, safe from being damaged. Checking his watch again, he nodded to himself and delicately poked the little bubble forward, back toward the palace.
Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) Page 10