War-N-Wit, Inc. – Resurrection (3 page)

Chapter Four

The chill in the air made it perfect for a hot tub dip on a
February evening while twilight merged into full dark. I hadn’t seen the back
of the house on the quick tour, but the hot tub nestled under a little roofed
alcove, patio furniture placed invitingly along its long length. Risers of
steam spouted like geysers above the surface. Thor settled down beside the tub.
I slipped into the end facing out onto the deck, submerging slowly so my naked
body could adjust to the heat. Finally, I leaned my head back and sighed. Magic
Man thought of everything. Soft lighting glowed from small spotlights placed
around the little enclosure and a skylight in the alcove roof streamed mingled
moonbeams and starlight down onto the surface of the water.

The water rose higher as Chad settled against the other side
of the tub. He smiled and entwined his legs with mine. I smiled back and closed
my eyes for a moment, savoring the heat of the water and the feel of his skin,
creating another type of heat. Touch wasn’t enough. I needed to look at him
looking at me.

I opened my eyes. And screamed.

Chad’s
head whipped around and my shoulder protested the sudden movement in echo of
his. The healing bullet wound was still very tender. It didn’t slow him down
any, though. He turned completely in the tub at the speed of light, backing up
against me and covering me from sight. Thor, issuing continuous low growls,
moved threateningly forward.

A short man in a gray three piece suit stood in the alcove
opening. There was even a watch chain attached to the vest button from its
pocket.

“Could you call your dog off, if you please?”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Hedgepath. Oliver Hedgepath.”

“Thor. Guard.”

Thor moved closer, the growls still rolling from deep in his
chest.

“I believe I asked you to call your dog off, not—”

“There’s another word that’ll have him going straight for
your throat. Want me to say that one?”

“No, I don’t believe I’d care for that.”

“How the hell did you get in here?”

“The gate was open.”

“Bullshit. How’d you get this far without Thor knowing it?”

“I suppose the wind was right.”

“Bullshit. Why are you here?”

“You told me never to call your number again.”

“Exactly. So why are you here?”

“I have to speak with you. Which would be easier were you
not both cavorting in a state of undress in—” The disapproval in his voice was
palpable.

Chad
half-rose. “Man, I am in my own hot tub with my own wife on my own deck in the
middle of a hundred fucking acres!”

I shrieked and grabbed him around the waist with both arms
to pull him back down and against me. He was the only cover I had.

Even Hedgepath could see his time was running out.

“Allow me two seconds. Please,” he said, and reached inside
his vest. He pulled out a photograph. “Look. Just look.”

It was a picture of a necklace of some sort. A large, tear
shaped crystal. In the picture, I could see glints of greenish—no, bluish—no,
indigo light. I shook my head. It was changing colors. In the picture.

Chad’s
face was totally blank. “Turn around. Stare straight ahead. Don’t shift your
eyes a millimeter.” To be sure that was clear, he added, “Thor. Guard front.”

Hedgepath turned slowly and Thor walked with him. When
Hedgepath was completely turned, Thor sat in front of him.

Chad reached over to the side table beside the tub and
grabbed the white terry cloth robes we’d left there, handing me one. “Com’on,
honey, he’s not looking. He knows better.”

I got out rapidly and wrapped myself quickly. Chad belted his
robe and released Thor from guard duty. He walked up to Hedgepath and took the
photograph.

“So. The foundation of the Resurrection Society. I wondered.
If you were completely full of shit or only half full.”

“You see this picture and you dare to ask?”

“It could be a fake. In which case you’d be half full of
shit instead of completely full because I guess at least you’re putting some
sort of test on your members. Even if it’s a faked one.”

“I assure you it is not a fake.”

“And you know this because, of course, you’re this Tear’s
Seer.”

“I know this because I was this Tear’s Seer, yes.”

“Was?”

“Was.”

“There’s only one at a time for each—”

“Exactly.”

“So a new Seer’s in town. Guess you gotta deal with it. Move
over.”

“What’s the crystal?” I asked. “What does it do?”

“The fact that you have to ask, young lady, shows you have
no business—”

“Hedgepath.” Ice water wouldn’t have been as cold as Chad’s voice.
“You don’t remember what I told you about how you talk to my wife?”

“My apologies.”

“Not sincere ones, I’m sure. Move it, Hedgepath. Move back
and sit down.”

“I’d rather not sit, if you don’t mind.”

“Didn’t think you would. So. You have one of the Tears of
Isis. And at one time, you could use it. When did you lose it, by the way? The
power?”

“It started fading a few months ago. October, November. It
was gone by the end of December.”

“So. Like I said. There’s a new Seer in town. Some town.
Somewhere.”

I wanted to say I didn’t understand, but I didn’t because
that would elicit another insult from Hedgepath and I didn’t want Chad to hurt
him. I’d just have to wait for a full explanation and piece together what I
could now.

“Yes.”

“You know who?”

“I’m rather hoping it’s you.”

“Me?”

“I’ve been following you for a long time. And your power is
growing. I think it’s grown tremendously just this year. And you’d be the least
of all possible evils because you have a deep and abiding respect for magic. An
innate understanding of how dangerous it can be in the wrong hands. And if it’s
not you, I need you to find him. The new Seer. So that I can monitor him, be
certain—”

“Don’t even go there, Hedgepath. You’re about to lie in your
teeth. You don’t give a damn if the new Seer’s good or dark. You only want to
make sure he’s not a threat to you and that
major
domo
thing you got going on at your elite society. Notice you’ve never
mentioned the membership dues. Are the coffers getting a little empty over
there? Let any new members in lately?”

Hedgepath fidgeted. “There haven’t been many applications in
the last few months, fortunately. So I’ve—delayed—any initiations.”

“Convenient. But you can’t delay much longer.”

“No.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?”

“I told you. I think the new Seer might be you. When you
look at the picture, do you feel anything, see anything?”

“It’s a picture, Hedgepath.”

“Yes, but still. If it’s you, there might be some twinge,
some sign—”

“No twinge, no sign.”

“Then you must see the Tear itself. Keep the photograph to
remind yourself of the importance of what we’re dealing with. When can you
come?”

“I didn’t say I’d come.”

“You’ll come. There’s no reason to insult my intelligence by
implying you won’t. No person of power would dare deny this. The implications
of a rogue Seer getting his hands on one of the Tears of Isis—”

“Would mean nothing to the world in general because believe
it or not, most folks don’t think they’re reincarnated and don’t want to prove
they are.”

“And you wouldn’t like to view your past lives?”

“Everything I need from any past life I already got. Her
name’s Ariel Garrett.”

“Seeing the past isn’t the only power a Seer has. Suppose
this new Seer does lean to the Dark Side? Chad Garrett—Magic Man, I believe, is
the moniker you have in the world of magic—doesn’t want to keep an eye on
anyone as powerful as a Seer? And if your power has grown that much, you need
to know it. And I’d hope you would be responsible enough to—”

“Drop in at the Resurrection Society every now and then.”

“Well, yes.”

“Then you’d better hope I’m not the Seer.”

“But you’ll come?”

“Once.”

“Friday night?”

“Where?”

“Savannah.
The Society restored one of the old houses on

“Ah. How fitting. A restored house on

“Restoring an historic home is a service to society.”

“On that street? Yes, a very expensive one.”

My brain was still processing Chad’s remark as to “how fitting”
Resurrection’s location was, and then I had it.
Midnight in the Garden
of Good and Evil
. Savannah.

Hedgepath ignored the jibe. He reached inside his vest again
and produced a business card which he handed to Chad. “I trust you don’t need
directions.”

“My GPS works just fine. And I’m very familiar with Savannah.”

“Friday evening, then. Seven o’clock. I’ll see you then.”

“You’ll see us then.”

Hedgepath sighed. “Bring her if you must. Is it safe for me
to move? Your animal won’t attack me?”

“Not if I don’t tell him to. I’m still thinking about that.”

Hedgepath nodded. He turned and walked toward the deck
stairs.

“Hedgepath!”

He turned back.

“Don’t ever show up here like this again.”

Out of the corner of my eye, the black cat I’d noticed
earlier walked delicately along the deck railing. He stopped about two feet
away from Hedgepath and hissed. Then he leaped from the railing into the tree
branches.

Hedgepath nodded again. And walked down the steps. He
disappeared into darkness.

Chapter Five

Chad
looked directly at Thor.

“Boy, how in the hell you let him get by you? That ever
happens again, I’m shipping your ass back to Canada.”

Thor whined apologetically.

Chad
walked quickly to the kitchen door and reached inside. Floodlights lit the
yard. No one was there.

He grabbed his cell and hit a speed-dial number.

“Buddy. Check the power circuits for the gates.” Long pause.
“All of them are working? No glitches, no down time?” Longer pause. “Shit.
Didn’t think so.”

He turned back to me. “Nobody came through that gate in a
car. And nobody disappeared that quick from the yard, either.” He raced down
the steps, me trailing in his wake, and stopped a few feet away from the
bottom.

“Thought so,” he said. A crumbled gray suit billowed out
over a pile of sand. A gold fob watch rested on top. “A man to watch, our Mr.
Oliver Hedgepath.”

“Sand?” I asked, reaching into the storehouse of useless
information that seemed to file itself away in my brain. “A—a—
golem
? That was a
golem
? But I thought golems were big and clumsy and didn’t talk. Or
talk well. Like—like—Frankenstein!”

Chad
reached down and touched the fine grains. “Not your ordinary golem, no. You
know about golems, baby girl?” He picked up the pocket watch.

“I read a lot,” I said absently, bending down myself. Like
I’d know what I was looking for. “Golems are creatures of Jewish mythology.
Creatures made of sand that act on the command of their makers. ‘Bout all I
know about ‘em. Except I didn’t think they’d be quite that articulate. Or that
they actually existed, in fact.”

“Well,” said Chad,
standing straight. “That wasn’t your ordinary golem, no. Very sophisticated.
Sort of a cross between a golem and an—”

“Astral projection,” I said. “Of course.”

“Damn. You know about them, too?”

“Just about as much as I do about golems. Sort of—a person
projects out his spirit, like a 3-D image, it lets ‘em be places they aren’t.
But I didn’t think anything like that actually existed, either.”

Chad
laughed. “I think I’ve said this to you before, baby girl. Welcome to the world
of magic. But damn few people can do either one of ‘em, and I’ve never seen a
mixture of the two before. The man’s
good
.
Or more likely, not good. He parked down from the gate and just sent the golem
around it. There’s no fencing right there, just thick woods. And by now he’s
hauling ass back to Savannah.”

I shivered. Bare feet in the yard in February’ll do that to
you. “Can we go back in?”

“Sure. Com’on. Sorry, you’ve gotten cold.” He put his arm
around me and we walked back up the stairs and into the house. Chad went over
and turned on the gas fireplace, adding the dance of flickering flames to the
low lighting of two lamps. He laid the picture down on one of the scattered
occasional tables.

We sat down on the big leather couch and wrapped ourselves
up with each other. Thor claimed the rug between the couch and the fireplace.

“So what the hell’s this Tear of Isis?”

“Most people who’ve even heard of it think it’s a legend.”

“And you?”

“Always had my doubts. Still do. All we have is a picture.
Produced, via golem, by a man who just radiates confusion. Because magical or
not, Thor should’ve known he was there. However he was there. Which means a
little cloaking was thrown into that mix, too.”

“Cat didn’t like him, either. Did you see that black cat?”

“Yeah. Buddy’s right. You’ll have him drinking milk out of a
saucer in a week.”

“Well, I’m gonna try. Always had a thing for black cats.
This Tear of Isis thing. Say it’s real. What does it
do
?”

“They. What do they do. There’re three of them. If they
still exist or ever existed. So what’s one of ‘em doing in the possession of
Hedgepath in a restored house on

“What’s Magic Man doing in the middle of a hundred acres
outside a crossroad like Quitman,
Georgia?”

“Point taken. The Tears of Isis are supposed to be just
that, of course. Crystalized tears of the Goddess Isis. Discovered in the Temple of Isis
during the excavation of Pompeii
in 1764.”

“Pompeii?
Not Egypt?”

“Nope. Pompeii.
Anyway, what they do is, they allow anyone with any trace memories of a past
life to view them. Their past lives.”

“Seems sorta iffy to me. If the viewer is the only one
viewing them, they could claim they were anything—anybody.”

“Enter the Seers. One Seer for each Tear. And they don’t see
just their own past lives. When they gaze into the Tear while another person’s
holding it, they see the lives of the other person, not their own.”

“
For real?”

“That’s the story. Whether it’s real, your guess is as good
as mine. I’m too much of a skeptic. I’ve seen too many things having nothing to
do with magic, just with people, to ever blindly believe any legend of magic
without having the proof in front of my eyes. Or of anything else, either.”

His voice had darkened. It matched the shadows in the room
thrown by the flickering flames from the fireplace. That law enforcement
background. I took it as further confirmation of my suspicion that all of his
experience wasn’t listed on the Bio page of his website. I knew he’d seen
things, done things, the ordinary person couldn’t imagine and wouldn’t want to.
And I’d never ask about any of it unless he wanted to share. He continued, “So
I don’t believe every magic fairy tale I hear unless I experience it myself, or
know somebody I trust did.”

I stretched my hand out and picked up the picture again.
“Interesting, though. Very pretty. The real thing must be absolutely beautiful,
full of changing colors. It even shows some of the colors in the picture.”

Chad
reached over and took it from my hand. “Does it? I don’t see anything.”

I looked again. “Hints here and there. Must be the lighting.
And I’m pretty sure you’ll be calling the—what did you call them? The
Guardians?”

“First thing in the morning.”

“I’m tired. You ready to go to bed?”

“Depends. How tired is tired?”

“Not that tired.”

“Then let’s go to bed.”