Brownie Oxford and the Idlewild Incident: Brownie Bk 2

Chapter 1

"This is insane, 'Nie, " I told myself as I pulled Matheson's rented car off the side of the road. I turned the headlights off as I eased the vehicle behind a copse of trees. Even if there was someone driving down this lonely stretch of road outside the small town of Fairview, the dark car wasn't likely to be seen. I sighed and placed my hands on the wheel, feeling my nerves jump. Five days earlier Matheson, the man who claimed to be my uncle and who ordered a group of zombies to kill me, died in the Mayenfield cemetery because the zombies liked me better.

Apparently, I was the good zombie raising necromancer.

I also didn't intend for Matheson to die. The spirts of the dead asked me what I wanted when I wrestled control of them away from Matheson. I told them I wanted to be safe. They decided I would be safest with Matheson dead. Not only did they kill him, but they took him back into their graves with him.

In bite sized pieces.

There was no body left for anyone to wonder over, no reason to start any sort of investigation. That night, I took Matheson's rental car and snuck out of town, eluding Paul, the watcher that my handler set in place to keep me safe while he hunted down Matheson. Hunting down Matheson was only part of Swift, my handler's, job. The other part involved a hard look at the National Clandestine Services, the shadowy branch of the CIA for which Swift worked, to find out who leaked my file to Matheson in the first place. The NCS was not likely to take betrayal well. Admittedly, they weren't likely to take my abrupt departure well either.

After seven years working as their asset, using my abilities to speak with the spirits of the dead to question a boatload of individuals who would normally be beyond their ability to question, I decided I was through. My body held a host of scars from various injuries and my mind a vast cornucopia of nightmares, all sustained during my work as an asset. All I wanted now was a normal life.

"Which means I should be finding a place to settle into to begin a normal life under the radar, " I reminded myself. I glanced to the passenger seat where Martha, my headless dressmaker's dummy was wedged for the duration of the trip. Sadly she was my most constant companion. "Right?"

I sighed. "I shouldn't be here, " I told myself. I looked through the windshield, away from the road. In the darkness I could just make out the edge of the roofline of the large house in the distance. Leaving Mayenfield, my first thought was to drive as far away as possible and find a place to hide. The snowstorm that set in as I was leaving would buy me sometime. The fact that no one knew I had access to a vehicle, let alone one rented by Matheson under a false name, would buy me a little more, or so I hoped. That first night, I drove until I needed gas and then stopped to fill up the tank. The café across the street provided me with coffee and an early morning breakfast. It also gave me a chance to think. I had no actual destination in mind, but as I washed the buttermilk pancakes down with hot coffee, I tried to figure out the last place Swift would look for me.

"With Matheson, " was what I came up with. While that wasn't an option, I did have his wallet along with his rental car keys. He had a fake license with the fake name and address for the rental car place, but his real license was tucked behind it. The small café where I broke my fast also had a row of public computers. I paid the fee for ten minutes of internet time and got directions from the café to Matheson's address, paying the ten cents per page to print out the directions before heading back to the car.

After a childhood spent bouncing between the Riverdale Girl's home and various foster families, the thought of finding out something about where I came from held an overwhelming appeal. Prior to Matheson's arrival and claim to be my uncle all I knew about my beginnings was that I was found in a shopping basket filled with pages torn from the Oxford English Dictionary, wrapped in a rather expensive baby blanket and was approximately six months old. The social worker who found me named me Brownie for my small size and slightly jaundiced look which made me look like a changeling. Oxford was added as my last name when they were forced to fill out official paperwork for me before adding me into the system. The fact that Matheson had the same black curls, green eyes, small stature and jaundiced skin as me lent weight to his claims of family.

"Coming here was dangerous, " I reminded myself. Still, I knew I wasn't going anywhere without a look around. I unfastened my seatbelt and opened the car door. I slipped the keys into my coat pocket and locked the car door as I closed it. Buttoning my coat against the cold, I stepped into the woods. While I was far more comfortable in crowded cities and well lit streets, my time as Swift's asset took me into lots of places in the middle of nowhere. I didn't have his fluid grace, and the woods were never my favorite place to be, but I learned to walk quietly and not draw attention to my movements. In addition, my night vision was always good.

My old sneakers made very little noise as I moved between the trees. Most of the limbs were winter bare, but recent weather was wet enough that the fallen leaves didn't crunch too much beneath my weight, bending instead of breaking. I was certain it would leave a bit of a trail for those who knew how to look for such things, but I was more concerned with being heard as I poked around. As this would be my one and only trip here, anyone watching could see my trail and wait for my return until the end of days for all I cared. I tried calming the frantic beat of my heart as I walked, using logic as a shield.

Matheson was the one after me, wanting to kill me or use my power in some arcane ritual. I assumed the ritual gave him my power and more or less killed me, although I was light on the details. Unlike most evil villains, Matheson hadn't spilled the details of his nefarious plot.

"At least not to me, " I reminded myself. "But he is dead now, " I reminded myself. I also knew my biological parents were dead, at least one by Matheson's hand. He hadn't taken kindly to my mother removing me from his range. He informed one of his lackeys that her death was too enthusiastic for him to raise her spirit and therefore he couldn't question her about my whereabouts. While it kept me safe, I hoped she died quickly with the enthusiastic part coming later. Matheson didn't mention my father in that scenario.

"But even if he isn't dead, I don't think he'd be at Matheson's place. I certainly wouldn't stick around after someone threatened my kid and killed my spouse." I shook my head. If he was around, it would mean he was in league with Matheson. "I really hope he's not around." Actually I was hoping no one was around, especially not Matheson's family as there was the likelihood they would have the same skills as I possessed. "And likely to be as crazy as he was. And probably not too happy with his death."

It was one of the reasons I wasn't going near the house. While I hoped it was empty, I wasn't taking any chances. My goal wasn't the house, but the small cemetery located at the edge of the property. When I arrived in town, I followed the printed out directions, skirting the house and grounds. A small, well-kept cemetery could be seen from the road. It had a large metal M over the wrought iron gates. Using my keen deductive skills I figured the M might stand for Matheson. Of course even if I was wrong and it didn't, then as it was close to Matheson's house it was likely he visited a time or two. I doubted he resisted raising them as self-control was not his strong suit.

"Hopefully they aren't all traumatized, " I thought as I reached the edge of the cemetery. I really didn't want to spend the evening with a group of victimized spirits. What I wanted, I couldn't really say. "But something useful would be nice for a change."

I looked around and saw no one lurking. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the tree line, heading towards the wrought iron gate. The gate was open, but I stopped just outside. "Time to knock on the door."

I gathered my power to me, took a deep breath and as I exhaled I pushed a light tracing of power into the cemetery's earth. It wasn't enough to raise the dead, just enough to get their attention. I felt the spirits of the dead turn their attention my way as they felt my power brush them, like a light breeze.

"Hello, " I said in a voice only they could hear. "I'm passing through and wanted to stop by and see if any of you would be willing to talk to me. I have a few questions if you have a moment to spare."

I was certain there was some sort of official method for greeting a new cemetery and its residents, but as I had no formal training, I always tried for polite. No one ever minded and this time was no exception. Slowly, I felt the spirits rise, I pushed a little more power into them and watched them solidify into more people-like shapes. As usual, I could see details; the flower in the lapel of a top hat wearing gentlemen, the bustle and wasp thin waist of a corseted lady, the jowls of a mustachioed man, I could see it all. The only difference between the dead and the living was that the dead appeared only in black and white, like an old film. If not for that difference, they could be actors playing dress up in the clothing of by-gone eras.

I looked at the residents of this cemetery and blinked in surprise. "Well, that's certainly new, " I said to myself. This time, several of the residents appeared to glow silvery instead of looking like the normal spirits I raised. As I looked one of the silvery spirits moved forward. My guess was that he was chosen as their ambassador. Each cemetery seemed to have one. The spirit moving to the front was a man who, at a guess died, in his sixties. My best guess based on his clothing and facial hair was that death had taken him sometime in the mid eighteen hundreds. While his hair was not terribly long I could see that it had some curl to it. No doubt if allowed to grow out, it would have the same curl to it as mine did. For the first time, I saw color in the dead. While his black and white body was outlined in silver, his eyes were the same green as my own.

"It has been a while since we have heard such politeness from one of the living, " the man began. "And it is appreciated. However, if you behave as badly as Cecil, polite or not you may expect the same treatment, I assure you."

"Cecil, " I repeated, unable to help myself. I never learned Matheson's name and when I checked his driver's license I was more concerned with his address than name, but somehow Cecil seemed appropriate. "Cecil Matheson?" I asked. The gentleman nodded.

"Of course, who else but a Matheson would come here?" He sounded almost affronted at the thought.

"Good point, " I acknowledged. "Um, I guess I should tell you, Cecil won't be back."

"Well that is a relief, " the man said. "Although I must say, hardly credible."

"Oh?"

"He's a Matheson, " the man said as though that should have explained everything. Considering what I knew of both my and his abilities, perhaps it did.

"Well, he's dead, " I told him. There was a gasp from someone in the crowd, a woman I could also see lined in silver, her eyes blazing green. She pushed forward in a rush.

"Dear God, you aren't putting him in here with the rest of us are you?" She asked, hand clasped to her breast, hoop skirt swaying with her movements.

"No, " I said. "He won't be joining you."

The man's eyes narrowed as his companions sounded relieved, both silver and non-silver alike. I tried not to fidget as he studied me. "Perhaps we could have a more detailed accounting."

He held out his hand and gestured towards a stone bench placed just inside the cemetery gates. I nodded and stepped inside. I took a seat and it looked as though the crowd sat with me. I could see the shadowy forms of chairs beneath those nearest me. I took a deep breath and explained to them what happened. Although I tried to keep my voice even and level, the tone business-like. I knew they felt my emotions. I felt my hands shake as I told them how Matheson used Dave as a sacrifice, slicing him open with his knife with less thought than a fishermen gutting the catch of the day. I clasped my hands together in my lap to stop the shaking as I pushed on through my fight for control of the residents and Matheson's final death. It felt oddly cathartic to say everything out loud. Tale told, I looked at the man to see how he took my story. Sympathy was shining in his green eyes.

"His death is not your fault. Cecil spent a lifetime accumulating power. He never had enough, never would have enough, no matter how much he lay claim to. He would have consumed you without a thought, child, " the man told me. I thought of the look on Matheson's face when he ordered the dead to kill me and nodded. The man looked sad. "Once we thought he would be one of our brightest stars. He was so gifted, showed such promise. I don't know where we went wrong. After he killed Jeanette, your mother, and your father of course from what we gathered, we stopped helping him. It is good that he will not be joining us."

"You helped him?" I asked then blinked in surprise. "Wait, you had a choice about helping him?" I could not count the number of dead I raised and questioned. While I had a hard time getting anything but new nightmares out of those who died as a result of torture, no dead ever outright refused to help me. They couldn't lie to me and they couldn't refuse my requests. I thought that was part of the deal.

The man smiled at me, laugh lines fanning from his eyes and bracketing his mouth. "We are Mathesons dear, " he told me with a mix of humor and pride. "Our power gives us some degree of freedom, even in death, and the ability to protect those born to our blood who were not born of the power. As each generation is born, they come to us, learn from us. We tried teaching Cecil, we failed."

Another gentleman snorted and shook his head. He too was lined with silver, his eyes green. "We didn't fail to teach him, " the man corrected. "He merely failed to learn anything he didn't have a mind to. Nasty temper, vindictive too. We should have stopped teaching him earlier. Would have saved a lot of trouble."

"He would have just studied in the library, " the gasping woman pointed out. "Then we wouldn't know what he was learning without spying on him in the house, and as he blocked us from his quarters, we couldn't look in on him."

"Some things aren't written down, that's why we are here, " the man countered. "That's why he came to us in the first place." The two began what sounded like a long standing debate.

"Catherine, Eustis, enough, " the first man said. He turned his attention back to me as the two fell silent.

"So those with power can not only refuse when called, but can go spying on people?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable. Those were not the rules I knew, admittedly until Matheson I never met anyone like me before. As uncomfortable as the changing rules made me, it was slightly comforting to know that if my cremation and ash scattering weren't done after I died then I at least had some options. I decided if Dr. Harding did put bits of me in jars after I was gone then I would arrange to haunt him mercilessly.

"Didn't your teachers teach you anything?" the woman, Catherine exclaimed. "They should have at least covered the basics by now."

"I didn't have any teachers, " I told her. "Matheson, I mean Cecil, was the first person like me I met." The crowd seemed shocked.

"And then he tried to kill you, " the man in front said nodding. "Not exactly an auspicious meeting."

"William, we must do something, " Catherine said with disapproval. "She's too strong to run around without training."

The lead man, William, nodded. "Of course, of course. Tell me dear, " he said turning back to me. "How did you know you could wrest control of the Mayenfield dead away from Cecil?"

"I didn't, " I confessed. "I got lucky."

William blinked in surprise. "And now you've come here for training so you don't have to rely solely on luck. Very sensible." As I couldn't explain exactly why I came to Matheson's house to myself with any conviction, I didn't correct him. "We will need to begin your training soon. First, we will need to see what it is you've managed to learn on your own, of course. I'm guessing you've picked up some skills?"

"Some, " I replied frowning at him. "But I can't stay."

"Nonsense, you need training, " Catherine declared.

"But sooner or later they will come looking here, " I told her. Swift may have concentrated on finding the leaks in the NCS, but I knew he was also looking for Matheson. My note stating Dave and Matheson were both dead wouldn't throw him completely off of their trail. Sooner or later Swift would come here. It was only a matter of time.

"It seems we need another explanation, " William said, quieting the protests from the others. I nodded.

"I was raised in a girl's home, " I began, keeping the name of the home to myself. I learned from Matheson that names had power. At the moment, keeping all names I had to myself sounded like a good plan. Since I was certain Swift wasn't Swift's real name I let them have it. On the day he met me I had a book of Johnathan Swift's essays with me. I was pretty certain he took his name from the cover.

I told them how Swift met me and put me to work interviewing victims, informants and all manner of dead bad guys in order to stop still living bad guys. I told them how Dr. Harding concocted a pill to settle my stomach and fix my jaundice, but that, according to Matheson, the pill stunted my abilities. I explained how I found ways not to take the pills while still remaining healthy and how I ran off into the night after Matheson's death, hoping Swift would not come after me.

"I can see you're right, " William told me shaking his head. "You can't stay here. Not now of course." He looked to Catherine. "Would you be a love and apprise Avery of the situation. She'll need a room for at least a day or two while plans are made." Catherine nodded and I started with surprise as she winked out, like a switched off light bulb. I added another item to the list of things I didn't know the dead could do.

William turned back to me. "It is clear you are exhausted. You will be safe here for at least one night. Avery can be trusted. His family has worked for ours for generations. In fact he is the one who got you out of the house. Your parents didn't want to participate in case they were not able to resist Cecil's questioning. They weren't born with the power and didn't want to know anything that could be forced out of them."

"Why didn't Mathe...Cecil just question Avery?" I asked.

William laughed. "Cecil? Believing a mere servant would be trusted with a child of power? You really didn't know him that well, did you? I doubt the thought ever entered his tiny little mind." Behind him Catherine popped back into the cemetery.

"Avery knows to expect her, " she reported to William. She turned and smiled at me. "He said you should drive in the main entrance and he will guide you to a garage so that your vehicle will be hidden from view."

"You really should go on up to the house now, " William told me kindly. "If it weren't so cold, you would no doubt be asleep. We'll have a long talk in the good light of day tomorrow." I nodded and stood, feeling the cold all the way down to my bones. I wasn't certain what the temperature was, but I could see my breath puff up around my face and my entire rear end was numb from sitting on the concrete bench.

"Thank you, " I told him, my teeth fairly chattering. I pulled my power slowly from the earth. Most of the residents disappeared, their spirts resting. Those that glowed silver faded slightly, but were still there, supported by the remnants of their own power. I turned and left the cemetery, heading back to Matheson's rented car.

Chapter 2

I got back to the car, and slid back behind the wheel. For a moment I sat, rubbing my hands together and trying to warm up my frozen fingers. I looked at Martha. "So do I trust them? Do I go to the house and see Avery?" I asked. I leaned back in the seat. I could feel the exhaustion of the last few days sucking at me. After gassing up the car and refueling myself at the diner, I drove in the direction of Matheson's house. Since any credit cards I had would be easily traceable, leaving a brightly lit trail for Swift to follow, I found a small shop in one of the towns I passed through and bought a pre-paid credit card.

With the cash I had brought with me, in addition to the strong box Matheson stuffed with cash, money wasn't an issue at the moment and really wouldn't be for a while. However, while I could pay for gas for the car with cash, I had the feeling paying cash for overnight accommodations might make me stand out. I knew there were motels that would take cash for the night, but I also knew Swift would remember I had cash on me and start looking in those places first. After all, he was the one who taught me how to track people via their credit and debit cards. I was hoping that paying a little more by an untraceable pre-paid credit card would help keep me out of his initial searching net.

Even after getting the card, I drove until I couldn't keep my eyes open and felt I was becoming a danger to other motorists. Giving in, I pulled into a small hotel. It was a step up from many of the roadside motels and required a credit card at check in. Luckily, my pre-paid one counted. There I showered and slept fitfully, scenes from the Mayenfield cemetery rising up to disturb my rest. I didn't intend Matheson's death, but I knew I was responsible. Mixed in with the dreams was the constant fear that at any moment Swift would find me. At the front desk, I kept my hair bundled under my hat in case my curls were a descriptive factor Swift used during questioning. The only time my hat was off my head was when I was showering or sleeping.

As soon as I woke, I showered again, using cold water to wake myself up, bundled my hair back under my hat and left the hotel for the highway. In the five days I had been running, I stopped twice more, each time only managing enough sleep so that I didn't fall asleep at the wheel. I was exhausted and knew I either had to take my chances with Avery at the house or try to find a bed someplace else before I passed out at the wheel.

"And anyplace I could get to by the time that happens wouldn't be too hard for this Avery to find, especially with his ghost spies." I didn't know the range of the dead in the Matheson family cemetery, but something told me they would make an attempt to track me down if I ran from them. "And I really don't need another thing to run from, " I told myself deciding to head up to the house. "The NCS is bad enough."

Decision made, I started the car and backed out of my vehicular hide-a-way. As I turned on the road and headed up to the house I caught a flash of silver in the woods and wondered if those in the cemetery sent someone to watch and see if I planned to run. "I would, " I decided too worn out to take offense.

I drove around to the main gates of the house and found them open. I knew this wasn't a normal condition as they had been closed when I drove past earlier, skirting the property to look for the cemetery. "I suppose it's a welcoming gesture, " I said to myself. As I drove through the gates and followed the given directions to the garage, the gates swung closed behind me. I tried not to think of it as ominous. The garage door was open and there was an empty spot inside. A man in a pressed black suit, his hair glinting silver in the overhead lights waited beside the open garage door.

"In for a penny, in for a pound, " I muttered to myself as I drove into the garage and parked. I pulled the keys from the ignition and slid out of the car as the silver haired man closed the garage door. He opened a small human sized door as I wondered how I was going to get out of the darkened garage.

"My I get your overnight bag for you Miss?" The man asked differentially.

I smiled thinking of my hastily packed duffle bag. I opened the back door and picked it up off of the back seat. "I think I can manage."

"Very good, Miss, " He replied. "I am Avery. I will not be offended should you not wish to provide your name. My family has worked for the Matheson's long enough to understand the risk. If you will follow me?"

Figuring I had very few other options at this point, I hefted my duffle bag to my shoulder and followed Avery out of the garage and into the house. As soon as I stepped into the entryway, I felt grubby. Polished marble shone underfoot, rich wood gleamed and everything practically shouted the words 'priceless antiques' as we proceeded into the house. Marble floors were soon covered with thick Turkish carpets and I thought of the memories I observed when talking to the spirit of George Whittaker and his impression of Matheson's wealth. As George was tortured to death so that I would have trouble questioning him, I quickly pushed the thoughts away.

Over all, it was a little much for a kid raised in the Riverview Girl's Home to take in.

"If you will follow me Miss, my wife has arranged your rooms, " Avery said. I nodded, feeling very much out of my depth as I followed him across the room and up a set of stairs. One flight and a short corridor later, he opened the door to a suite of rooms, leading me inside. As we entered, I spotted a matronly looking woman plumping pillows on an enormous four poster bed. The posts seem to rise from the corners like tree trunks. She turned at our approach and smiled.

"Welcome home Miss, " she said warmly. "They said you'd be needing sleep more than anything and I can see they had the right of it, " she said looking me over. "Would you like something to eat before you go to sleep?"

"Oh, um, no thank you, " I replied clumsily as I tried to stifle a yawn. Without the outside cold to slap me awake I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

She smiled and nodded at me. "Then we'll leave you to rest. Your bathroom is through there, " she added pointing to one of the doors set into the wall. "And if you need anything, just call down to the kitchen." She gestured towards a phone placed on the night stand. I nodded numbly and Avery and the woman I guessed to be Mrs. Avery left me alone. I let my duffle bag slide to the floor and feeling somewhat paranoid I walked to the door and turned the lock. While I was certain the couple probably had the key, the door was old and the lock made a squeaking thunk as it was turned proving it didn't get a lot of use. If the couple used a key to gain entry, I would probably hear it. I also checked the latches on the windows in both the bedroom and the bathroom.

The bathroom was a marble wonder with a bathtub I could easily see myself lounging in, bubbles piled up to my ears. I yawned and felt my jaw pop. "Of course if I tried that now, I'd slip beneath the surface and drown, saving Swift the trouble of finding me." I told myself as I checked the bathroom's window latch.

I went back to the main room and let my eyes scan it quickly. Across from the bed was a large fireplace already laid for a fire. All it needed was a match touched to the newspaper wadding beneath the logs. I contemplated it, but like the bath, I figured it would be more enjoyable once I was rested. There was a set of double doors across from the bathroom and knowing I had to see what was behind them before getting into bed, I opened them. They led to a large, and at the moment very empty, walk-in closet.

I closed the doors and headed back to the bed. As I toed off my shoes I looked at the phone Mrs. Avery indicated. There was no dial, just a series of buttons, each labeled with a room. Kitchen was the first button. "At least I won't have to remember a number while I'm here, " I said pulling back the sheets. I dropped my hat, coat, jeans and bra into a heap next to my duffle bag and climbed into the monster four poster wearing just my t-shirt. Next to the bed there was a light switch and I was pleased when I flipped it, all of the room lights went off, saving me from crossing the room in the dark. Despite the strangeness of the situation, the past five days caught up to me and I felt sleep waiting to suck me down into its embrace.

"At least I know one thing, " I said half to myself. "Swift won't be appearing in my doorway before morning." I had the feeling that if nothing else, Avery would stop him at the gates. "And if he gained entry I'm sure I could either slip out the back or hide somewhere." Somehow this house seemed like the sort that would have hidden spaces in it, although the thought of what Matheson might use those hidden spaces for left me a little creeped out. With a stronger feeling of security than I had all week, I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me.

Chapter 3

I woke up slowly blinking sleep from my eyes as I stretched my limbs under the heavy, down comforter. The sheets whispered with my movements. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. If I dreamed, I didn't remember it. Despite going to bed earlier than usual, I had the feeling I slept in later than I anticipated. My belly felt hollow and my bladder felt full. I eased myself out of the warm cocoon of the bed. As the cool air of the room hit me, my bladder became more insistent and I hurried my steps to the provided facilities.

After relieving myself, I looked at the bathtub. My stomach rumbled and I decided the no less opulent shower might be a better option. Despite the products lined up on the shelf, I retrieved my own stuff from my duffle bag and bathed. I decided that my curls would be less of an issue in this house and when I dressed I left my coat and hat off. I quickly made the bed and slipped my shoes on, prepared to find the kitchen. Before I reached the door however, I paused. This wasn't my house and I had no idea where a kitchen would be located. It seemed a bit rude to go wandering around uninvited. I sighed and walked back to the phone. I picked up the receiver and pressed the button marked 'Kitchen'. It rang twice before being picked up.

"Hello?" a female voice said. I guessed it to be Mrs. Avery as I didn't know if anyone else was in the house.

"Yes, good morning, I was wondering if you could give me directions to the kitchen, " I asked feeling somewhat stupid. She laughed good-naturedly and I felt marginally better as she told me how to get to where I hoped food would be. When I hung up, I looked around, making sure everything was tidy. Then I pulled out my small self-testing meter to see what my bilirubin levels were before unlocking my bedroom door and following the given directions. Knowing what types of food I would need to maintain my balance, as I walked I wondered about the kitchen Matheson would have, or more precisely what food it would contain.

While with the NCS, pills had been provided to cure me of my jaundice and stomach cramps, controlling my bilirubin levels. As I started weaning myself from the pills I found the chemical compound stunted my abilities. I had no real desire for more power, but I did have a need to break free of the pills as they were controlled by the NCS. Dr. Harding created them and they weren't something that could be purchased over the counter. I broke free of them by monitoring what I ate very closely.

This involved learning to cook from a host of lessons from the dead, both professional and home cooks contributing their skills, so kitchens in general no longer seemed like weird mysterious places to me anymore. However, I knew that Matheson, or Cecil as I supposed I should think of him given the host of deceased Mathesons waiting not too far away, never took the pills. He still looked slightly jaundiced when I saw him and I never got a chance to ask him about the stomach cramps, our one brief in person conversation being limited to 'join me or die'.

"Although I can't actually see him cooking, " I told myself. "I'm betting he has a cook." I wondered if it would be Mrs. Avery or if he had an army of servants lurking about the place. From my brief acquaintance I gathered he was the sort to like having an army about, after all he did hire a band of mercenaries to deal with me. "Of course he could also want privacy, " I decided. "Or be very thrifty despite the obvious wealth."

I sighed, dismissing my own speculation. I really didn't know him well enough to guess how he conducted his private life.

All things considered, I was kind of grateful for that.

My steps led me finally to the kitchen. While I no longer had the fear of the mysterious unknown when facing a world of cookery, like the house, this kitchen was a bit beyond me. Large enough to feed an actual army, vast stretches of stainless steel and marble greeted me. From conversations with a pastry chef, I knew the marble was useful for keeping dough chilled. Despite stainless steel being a kitchen remodeler's preference according to the television's renovation shows, this looked more commercial than that.

"It is a bit much, but when the Matheson's built the estate not only was the family larger, but they tended to give many grand parties. When the kitchens were updated they were done with that in mind, " I turned at the sound of the voice and saw Mrs. Avery. Now that I wasn't half asleep, I took in her details. Her hair was brown and cut into the short look that many older women seemed to favor. Given the deep laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, I was guessing the hair color came from a bottle. At a guess I put her age at late sixties, possibly even early seventies. It was the same age range I put Avery in and I had the feeling my guess was correct and they were a pair. I was going to keep my guess to myself though until one of them said otherwise, as for all I knew this was the cook and Avery's wife was a barely legal eighteen year old.

"But don't you worry, I can still get you some breakfast, or given the time I suppose brunch would be more appropriate a term."

"Brunch, " I replied letting go thoughts of Avery's possible teen bride. "I thought I slept in, but didn't realize it was that late." After months of rising before the sun so I could get my run in early while living in Mayenfield, rising near brunch was almost unthinkable. "I must have really been exhausted."

"You did look a bit done in, " the woman told me. "Of course from what those on the hill told us, I'd be pretty done too. Do you have any preference?" She asked indicating the commercial range.

"Whatever's easiest, " I replied. I figured I would watch to see what she made and be on the lookout for anything that might cause stomach cramps. "Or I could just make myself something."

She shook her head at my suggestion. "Well, I suppose something brunch like and as you missed dinner last night, probably something filling as well." She gestured towards the wooden table placed against the wall at the end of the kitchen. "You are welcome to eat in the kitchen if you'd like, unless you'd prefer the more formal space in the dining room?" She lifted an eyebrow at me in question and I hurriedly moved to the table and pulled out one of the mismatched wooden chairs, visions of an impossibly ornate and stuffy dining room dancing in front of my eyes.

"This is fine, " I told her. "And really there is no need to trouble yourself, I could easily make myself something if you need to be somewhere else."

"Nowhere else I need to be, " she assured me as she moved to the giant fridge and began removing items from its depths, lining them up on the counter. I was relieved when everything she took out was an unprocessed item. Generally, it was the chemicals that were mixed into the processed foods that caused me issue. While eggs were fine, the powdered eggs Riverdale used turned my stomach into knots. Freshly made salad dressing was fine, but the preservatives in the store bought varieties were bad news.

The woman moved around the kitchen like she knew what she was doing and very quickly she had a plate prepared and was setting it down in front of me. "Eggs Florentine, " She replied as I studied the poached egg and spinach creation.

"Wow, that looks amazing, " I said inhaling the scent of the meal and automatically reaching for my fork. The spinach would help with my levels as well and I wondered if she knew that, but didn't want to ask for fear of revealing too much of myself.

"Thank you, it's nice to be appreciated, " She replied. "I'll get you a glass of juice. Unless you would prefer coffee?"

"Juice is fine, " I assured her, my fork already hovering over the plate. She returned with the glass and after setting it down next to my plate, she left the kitchen. It was strange sitting in a space so large by myself, but as I was hungry, I pushed the strangeness aside and ate my meal. It was good and as I ate I thought about my situation. Although the place I was in was not an entirely comfortable one, I knew it wasn't the first place Swift would look for me. It probably wasn't even the second or third place Swift would look for me. In addition, for the first time since going on the run, I was rested and could think things through clearly. Unfortunately, the clarity brought worry along with it.

I knew Swift was very good at his job. "Which means it isn't a matter of if he'll find me but when." Even after years of working with him, I didn't know how Swift truly thought of me. Was I just an asset to be exploited or did he actually think of me as a person? Would he respect my decision to leave or hunt me to the ends of the earth and put me in a small dark space only letting me leave when the NCS needed my skills?

I didn't know. I knew he would search for me initially. I thought my best bet would be to stay gone long enough for other things to claim the bulk of his attention, after all he couldn't focus solely on me forever. Sooner or later something else would come up.

"Which leads me back to him being really good at his job, " I sighed and finished my meal. After my eggs Florentine was consumed, I drained the last of my juice and took my used items over to the sink. I quickly washed the plate, glass, knife and fork. I didn't see a towel anywhere so I left them in the dish rack to drip dry. I looked around for a moment, wondering what to do next.

"Cemetery I guess, " I finally decided. William had after all asked that I come back for further conversation during daylight. I wondered if I should tell anyone where I was going. Unfortunately, I didn't know where anyone was or where to find them. I decided to go up to my room and retrieve my outer wear.

"Perhaps I'll pass someone on the stair, " I told myself as I put thought into action and went back upstairs. The house seemed eerily empty as I moved through it. The space seemed vast and I wondered how big it actually was. I looked up as I moved under one of the house's chandeliers. I knew my stride was almost three feet in length and it took me two and a half strides to pass under it making it between seven and eight feet in diameter. I shook my head feeling somewhat stunned.

"Eight feet, " I muttered to myself in disbelief. I was fairly certain the thing wouldn't even fit through the door in my old apartment to begin with. I moved up the stairs and into the guest room. I slipped on my jacket, pulled my hat on, more for warmth than for concealment, although I did tuck my hair up, and dug my gloves and scarf out of the coat's pockets. Bundled up I turned to head back down stairs.

Halfway down the stairs, I realized I didn't exactly know where I was going. I knew vaguely where the cemetery was, but only from the road. I didn't know if there was a path or a trail or if I just had to hike through the woods to get there. It seemed sensible to have a path, but I also knew people weren't always sensible. Luckily as I descended the stairs, Avery walked out of one of the side corridors.

"I was asked to escort you up to The Hill, Miss as it was thought my skills might be of use in planning your next move, " Avery said, smiling politely.

"Of course, thank you, " I replied. "And please thank your wife for breakfast or brunch, I suppose. It was delicious."

"I'm sure she will be pleased to hear it, " Avery said. "I believe this is the most direct route, " He indicated a hallway and I followed him down it and through the first floor of the house to the back door. Curious, I glanced in the open doors as I passed. The first floor looked designed for entertaining and I passed a well-appointed sitting room, a large and very ornate dining room and what I thought might be either a library or a study. Seeing the condition of the dining room, I was glad I had chosen to eat in the kitchen. The library, if that was what it was, reminded me of the dream Matheson sent me. I shivered involuntarily remembering the sea of blood.

I never had gotten around to looking up the titles I saw on those shelves. Perhaps Matheson kept copies here. Everything I passed reinforced the notion of wealth, and multi-generational wealth at that. I followed Avery out of the back door and into the back yard. There was an enormous multi flagstone area that seemed far too large to be called a patio. In the distance I could see a pool, covered for the winter and what I thought was a tennis court. The net had been taken down for the season, but the court and what I thought were the support posts for the net remained. We didn't get close enough for me to be sure as Avery led me down a path leading into the woods. The path was flagstone like the patio area and well-maintained.

"Which makes sense, " I thought as I followed Avery. "If the ability to talk to the dead is a hereditary trait and each generation is expected to take lessons with the dead, the path would be used far more often than usual for a family plot." I thought about it as we walked. "Of course if the dead can move between the cemetery and the house then there is no reason the lessons couldn't be held in the house." Somehow I thought that Cecil Matheson would have had the dead come to him rather than the other way around.

In a short while, we reached the cemetery. As the ground sloped upwards I guessed this is why they decided to refer to it as 'The Hill' in conversation. Since communication was maintained after death, the less funereal terminology also made sense. I shook my head at the thought. After living so long thinking I was the only one like me, it was somewhat surreal to be in a place where my skills weren't considered odd. We paused our steps at the gate to the cemetery and Avery stepped back as I let my power slide into the ground, waking the spirits and asking for permission to converse.

"I must say, " William began when the initial pleasantries were complete. "You look much more alert today. I trust you rested well?"

"I did thank you, " I replied, settling myself on the bench. I left plenty of room for Avery, but he chose to remain standing off to one side. I wondered if that was butler protocol.

"We have been discussing your situation, " William continued. "If we may be blunt about this?"

"I would appreciate it, " I replied nodding my approval.

"Good, " he replied looking relieved. "Now clearly you cannot remain here if this Swift person is looking for you. However, you must be trained, that much is clear. We have placed watchers around the edges of the estate so no one will appear without some form of warning."

"I appreciate the precaution, " I said as he paused. My eyes scanned the crowd and I noticed there were fewer silver lined, green-eyed spirits present than the night before. Or at least I thought there were. I didn't really do a head count the night before.

"Luckily, as we have on occasion had more than one family member needing to be trained at a time, we have multiple copies of some of the books that would normally be used in your early education. Eustis is working with Mrs. Avery to make a collection of these so you may take them with you for study without worrying that the only copy of said works would be lost if you must destroy them."

I figured that William expected me to burn the books rather than allowing them to fall into Swift's hands. I had the feeling if Swift appeared, there wouldn't be enough time to do so. I kept my thoughts to myself as he continued.

"Now, we will need a place for you to go and a way to keep you hidden when you get there, " William said.

Avery cleared his throat. "If I may Sir, Miss, " He began addressing us both. "After Miss was removed from the house and sent into hiding, I had a false identity created for her, separate from that the State provided, on the off chance it had been discovered where she was placed. Throughout the years we, my wife and I, as well as a couple of trusted family members, have... grown the identity so to speak. Given her a history and aged the persona appropriately. The documentation can be used now if need be. It is not tied to her life previously and as it has a history, medical records, education, credit cards, cell phone and such it would not be a person popping up out of thin air and will be less noticeable."

"That's ...handy, " I replied somewhat stunned.

Avery smiled sadly at me. "It was never the intention to leave you out there on your own, Miss, " Avery said. "Your parents handed you to me to hide away and maintained the ruse that you were still with them. I gave you to my cousin's sister-in-law. She was a social worker at the time and was meant to keep you until your parents could sneak away. I returned and assisted in maintaining the ruse that you were with them for nearly two weeks as they finished their preparations for leaving. They were planning to pick you up once they were clear, all three of you living under new names. They were caught before the plan could be put into action. While Master Cecil never tied my earlier leave with your disappearance, if he ever knew of my leave to begin with, it was never safe enough for you to return. The identity was maintained in case an opportunity presented itself for your return."

"I understand, " I said, feeling slightly strange about the story. I had grown up with the idea that someone had me, didn't want me and gave me away. When Matheson arrived, I suspected it wasn't quite that simple. Now the basic beliefs I held my entire life seemed wrong. It was something I was going to have to think through. 'But this is clearly not the time, ' I thought. I deliberately pushed away the tangle of emotions Avery's words stirred to the back of my mind.

"The name and identification will help, " I said after a moment of thought. "But there are still the images. Swift will no doubt have pictures of me to present to people, asking if they have seen me." I realized that Swift could probably have me branded as a wanted fugitive and have my picture splashed over the news. The thought left me cold inside. I hoped he wouldn't go that route, but really didn't know.

We discussed various methods of altering my appearance. While some of them I thought viable, I thought that finding a place to settle and blend in would be a help as well. Swift would be looking for someone on the run. He would probably be estimating how much cash I had on me and looking for a new bank account to appear with the amounts of the checks I got when my bank accounts were closed. He would probably also be looking for me to get a new job and as he normally arranged my jobs in the past, he would have a good idea where to look. I was hoping I had an answer to that, but part of it would depend on how much Paul paid attention to my daily activities while in Mayenfield.

"I believe my wife would be of more assistance in the personal appearance arena, " Avery suggested. "Perhaps as it is growing chilly we should return to the house?" He suggested after we had explored the current options and cobbled together a vague plan.

"Yes, " William said in agreement. "I believe we have rendered all the assistance we can give at this point. Once the matter with Swift is settled and you return to us, we can assist with more advanced studies. Until then, we will maintain a vigil on the estate perimeters and look forward to your return."

"Thank you for your assistance, " I said, recognizing the dismissal. I stood, my rear end long since numbed from the concrete bench. Avery and I left the cemetery, my power being pulled from its confines. As before, those born with abilities similar to my own merely faded instead of disappeared. It was a disquieting sensation to know they were watching as I walked away.