Dean set the plate he was washing carefully back into the water and slowly turned. “What do you mean, give her life?”
“Evil doesn’t take prisoners.” Martha shook her head, wiping a spoon that was long dry. “That sounds like it should be in a fortune cookie, doesn’t it?”
Pulling the spoon from her hand, Dean locked eyes with the older woman and said softly, “Mrs. Hansen, why are we having this conversation?”
“Because all power corrupts and the potential for absolute power has the potential to corrupt absolutely. This site has already corrupted a Keeper and made a Cousin, at best, bitter and, at worst, mean. I don’t want that happening to my daughter. She’s going to need your help.” When he opened his mouth, she raised her hand. “I realize your natural inclination is to immediately assure me you’ll do everything you can, but I want you to take a moment and think about it. Their abilities tend to deemphasize interpersonal relationships; she can be downright autocratic at times.”
He dropped the spoon in the drawer. “What happens when she finds this Historian?”
“I don’t know.”
“She thinks she’s too powerful to be here just as a monitor, doesn’t she?”
“Yes.”
Dean watched the iridescent light dance across the soap bubbles in the sink. “I’ll tell you, Mrs. Hansen…”
“Martha.”
“…I don’t know Claire and I don’t really understand what’s going on, but if you say she’s after needing me, well, I’ve never turned away from someone who’s needed me before and I’m not after starting now.”
Long years of practice kept her from smiling at the confidence of the young. At twenty-five that speech would’ve sounded pompous. At twenty, it sounded sincere. “She won’t make it easy for you.”
“You ever gone through a winter in Portuguese Cove, Mrs. Hansen?”
“Martha. And no, I haven’t.”
“Once you can do that you can do anything. Don’t worry, I’ll help her run things and I’ll try not to let her push me around because of what she is.”
“Thank you.”
“Everyone likes to be needed.”
She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “You’re taking this whole thing remarkably well, you know. Most people wouldn’t be able to cope with having their entire worldview flipped on its side.”
“But it wasn’t my entire worldview, now was it?” He plunged his hands back into the soapy water. “The sun still comes up in the east sets in the west, rain falls down, grass grows up, and American beer still tastes like the water they washed the kegs out with. Nothing’s changed, there’s just more around than I knew about two days ago.” With a worried lift of his brows, he nodded toward the rest of the silverware on the tray. “If you could, please finish that cutlery before the water dries and makes spots…”
They worked in silence for a while, the only sound the wire brush against the bottom of the roasting pan.
“Mrs. Hansen?”
“Martha.”
“What is it you do?”
“Claire’s father and I watch over the people who live in an area where the barrier between this world and evil is somewhat porous.”
“But I thought Cousins couldn’t use the caulking gun.”
Martha stopped drying one of the pots and stared at him. “The what?”
“The magical equivalent of the caulking gun that seals the holes in the fabric of the universe.” Dean repeated everything he could remember of Claire’s explanation.
When he finished, Claire’s mother shook her head. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, I’m afraid.” Then she frowned as she thought it over. “All right, perhaps it isn’t—but it’s certainly less rational. We’re not dealing with a passive enemy but a malevolent intelligence.”
“Does Claire know this?”
“Of course she does, she’s a Keeper. But she’s young enough to believe—in spite of what you might think of her advanced age,” she interjected at his startled expression, “that it’s not the energy that’s the problem, it’s what people do with it. While that may be true in a great many cases, there’s also energy that you simply can’t do good with, no matter what your intentions are.”
“Evil done in God’s name is not God’s work. Good done in the Devil’s name is not the Devil’s work.” He set the last pan in the rack to drain. “It’s what my granddad used to say before he clipped me on the ear.”
“Your granddad was very wise.”
“Sometimes,” Dean allowed, grinning.
Without really knowing how it happened, Martha found herself grinning back. “To finish answering your actual question, the site we monitor is too porous to be sealed—think T-shirt fabric where it should be rubberized canvas—so there’s constant mopping up to do. I do the fieldwork, and my husband teaches high school English.”
“Teaching high school doesn’t seem very…” He paused, searching for a suitable word.
“Metaphysical?” Martha snorted, sounding like both her daughter and the cat. “Is it possible you’ve already forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager?”
“Are you going to be all right?”
“I’ll be fine, Mom.” Claire reached out and fixed the collar on her mother’s windbreaker as the early morning sun fought a losing battle with a chill wind blowing in off Lake Ontario. “And don’t worry. I’ll monitor the situation while I gather the information I need to shut it down.”
“I would never worry about you not fulfilling your responsibilities, Claire, but it took two Keepers to create the loop. What if it needs two Keepers to close it?”
“Then I’ll monitor the situation until the other Keeper shows up. This is not going to be my final resting place.”
Because even Keepers needed the comfort of hope, Martha changed the subject. “Be nice to Dean. He’s exactly what he seems to be, and
