Fearless Warrior: Isaacson Trilogy Book Two

21

Erasmus stared at Esmund as though he'd lost his mind. "I should think it was obvious."

Esmund glanced at the others, wondering what he'd missed. However, they, too, looked just as confused as he was. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, "I've been told recently I can be rather dense at times. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

"The pyromancer, of course," Erasmus scowled. "It's not the best word for the witches since they have a range of abilities far exceeding their preferential use of fire."

Erasmus walked to another bookshelf and tapped a finger against his chin as he perused shelf after shelf of books. "They manipulate fire as easily as they manipulate people, often making it appear they are inept at conjuring their desired effect. It's a show to throw their intended prey off-guard and play on a human's more compassionate nature. Everything's a game to them, you see, and the more elaborate the game, the better."

Icy, cold fingers of dread ran down Esmund's spine as he replayed snippets of memory from the last few days and saw them with new eyes. Was Piper a pyromancer who'd been manipulating them? If so, what game was she playing at?

His stomach lurched, and bile burned the back of his throat as a thought took hold. He swallowed against nausea and asked with marked hesitation, "What other abilities do they tend to possess? Can they transform themselves to appear as someone else?"

"They can," Erasmus nodded, "just as they can transform their surroundings; it's referred to as a glamour spell." He pulled an ancient-looking tome from the shelf. It was at least six inches thick and bound in what appeared to be charred leather. "Although in my studies, such power and skill take over half a century to hone and perfect. A novice, which is what your pyromancer sounds to be, wouldn't possess the ability—yet." He carried the book to his table and set it down with care. "This has been handed down five centuries, surviving every attempt at destruction others have subjected it to."

A strange symbol, unlike any Esmund had seen associated with beings of the occult, burned deep into the cover, which Erasmus traced with a finger until it glowed under his touch and ignited.

When the flame extinguished, the book fell open of its own accord, and the words and illustrations upon the pages smoldered and sprang to life. Ulric and Gunnar jumped back amidst muffled curses while Esmund leaned in closer to have a better look. His eyes widened in shock at what he saw.

"You'll notice the entire face is hidden in shadow." Erasmus motioned to the illustration, bringing their attention to the drawing of what appeared to be a woman on the entire left page. "From what I've read when they are doing their nefarious pyromancy deeds, they keep their faces hidden as a means of protection, which enables them to live inconspicuously amongst regular humans their entire lives."

It was as though The Matron had leaped from Esmund's mind and onto the page before him. The clothing was different, but everything else he'd seen was the same—the claw-like fingers, the face hidden in deep shadow, evil emanating from the drawing itself, which became a mere echo of what he'd felt while in her presence. "That's what The Matron looks like."

His brothers, father, and Nora turned to him, surprise written upon their faces as they said in unison, "You've seen her?"

Esmund nodded, "In a manner of speaking." He met Erasmus' gaze but glanced at his family before admitting, "I saw her in a vision I had earlier today on the way back."

Erasmus' eyes narrowed while he caressed his beard, "Is it the only vision you've had since claiming?"

Did he dare tell the truth? What would they think of him if he admitted he'd been having strange visions from the first touch of Elsie's hand? Esmund bit his lip and slowly shook his head, avoiding meeting anyone's gaze. "No...nearly every time Elsie or I touch, I've had them."