Part 64 (2/2)
”He said I sounded like Augustus Smythe!”
Austin rolled over and stared up at her. ”No,” he said after a moment. ”Too high-pitched.”
”It's the seepage.” She rubbed at her temples where the buzz had lodged. ”It's barely been two weeks since I cleared it out, and it's already making me cranky.”
”Got news for you, Claire, you're way beyond cranky.”
”Smythe couldn't have lived like this all the time.”
”Feeling sorry for him?”
”No.” Her lips pulled back off her teeth. ”Wanting to wring his neck.”
”Maybe you're more susceptible because you're a Keeper and under normal circ.u.mstances, which these aren't, you're able to adjust the seepage.” The cat washed the black spot on his front leg thoughtfully. ”Why not use it to close down the postcard?”
”Because the postcard is using seepage. If I close it down, in a few days I'll have a worse problem than before. And besides, I don't want to use it.”
”The postcard?”
”The seepage!” She dropped down onto the couch and emerged from the depths a few moments later to add another forty-three cents and a plain gold ring that smelled of fish to the half-filled bowl of retrieved flotsam on the coffee table. ”I can't go on like this.”
The distant sound of a ten-pound sledge slamming through plaster board jerked her forward, almost tipping her into the precarious area between the coach cus.h.i.+ons.
Austin yawned. ”Maybe you should cut back on the caffeine.”
”Maybe you shouldn't say anything if you can't say something helpful.” Tapping her nails against her thigh, Claire gritted her teeth. ”There has to be a logical solution.”
”Why?”
”Shut up. Point: Power is seeping out around the edges of the seal two presumably dead Keepers created with another Keeper's power. A further point: It's not my power sealing the site, so I can't make adjustments. Yet another point: I can't just leave the seepage be because it's driving me nuts. And one final point: The only way to get rid of the seepage buildup is to use it, but using the power of h.e.l.l can't help but corrupt the individual using it no matter her intentions. So.” She drew in a deep breath and exhaled noisily. ”Where does that get us?”
”Absolutely nowhere,” Austin told her, climbing onto her lap.
Claire slumped back into the sofa. ”It was a rhetorical question anyway. What we need is a way to use the seepage without strengthening h.e.l.l.”
”Can't be done. h.e.l.l works only in its own best interests.”
Stroking the cat, Claire spent a moment wallowing in the innate unfairness of the universe, and then...
”Hey!” Austin fought his way out from between the two sofa cus.h.i.+ons. ”If you're going to stand suddenly, warn a guy!”
”h.e.l.l can be made to work against itself.” Claire whirled around to face the cat. ”I'll feed the seepage into the s.h.i.+eld around the furnace room!”
The cat stepped over onto the coffee table and, with a solid surface below him, paused to smooth the ruffled fur along his side. ”How?” he asked after a moment.
”Adhesion. The moment anything escapes from the pit. Slap!” She smacked her palms together. ”Right into the s.h.i.+eld but set up so that it's distributed evenly, like oyster spit building a pearl. h.e.l.l sends more out, the s.h.i.+eld gets stronger. h.e.l.l sends nothing at all, nothing happens because the original s.h.i.+eld is still in place.”
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