Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) - By Paula Flumerfelt Page 0,37
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