"No need, you're doing fine."

"The Historian," Claire repeated through clenched teeth, "who I see as a woman, keeps the histories of all the Keepers."

"Is she a Keeper?" Dean asked, bending to pick up his napkin and slipping a bit of chicken under the table to the cat.

"We don't know."

"Then what is she?"

"We don't know."

"Okay. Where is she?"

"We don't know that either; not for certain at any given time. The Historian hates to be bothered. She says she can't finish collecting the past with the present interrupting, so to protect her privacy she moves around a lot."

"Then how do you find her?"

"I go looking."

Dean paused, wondering if he was ready for the next answer. Oh, well, the boat's past the breakwater, I might as well drop a line. "Where?"

"She usually sets up shop just left of reality."

"What?"

"If reality exists, then it stands to reason that there must be something on either side of it." Claire tapped the table on both sides of her plate with her fork as if that explained everything.

He ate some chicken, delaying the inevitable. "Okay. Why left of reality?"

"Because the Apothecary uses the s.p.a.ce on the right."

"Dean? If I could have a few words?"

"Sure, Mrs. Hansen."

"Martha." She took the tea towel from his hand. "Here, let me help."

He watched as she dried a plate, decided her standards were high enough, and plunged his hands back into the soapy water. "Where's Claire?"

"Watching the news. I was wondering, did she explain her family situation?"

"Both you and Mr. Hansen being Cousins?"

"That's right. It's a very rare situation, two Cousins together, and it's why both our girls are Keepers. Now, usually Keepers become aware of what they are around p.u.b.erty... are you blushing?"

"No, ma'am."

"Must be the light." She took a dry tea towel off the rack. "Because of their double lineage, my girls not only knew what they were from the start but were unusually powerful. Although they're better socialized than many Keepers, my husband and I tried to give them as normal an upbringing as possible, they've been told most of their lives that with great power comes great responsibility, clich6d but true, I'm afraid. Now, Claire's willing to give her life for that responsibility, but, like all Keepers, it's made her more than a little arrogant."

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 a.s.sure me you'll do everything you can, but I want you to take a moment and think about it. Their abilities tend to de-emphasize 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, gra.s.s 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."