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Annals of Fear II	By : DeathNoteFangirl Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > Mello/Matt Views: 5803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note and I do not make any money from these writings

Chapter List
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- 57
Mello was watching the others over Matt's shoulder.   He saw Deontic lean over Century, but her body was shielding his face.   Mello couldn't tell if the Welshman was upset again.    The door opened, emitting Hal, followed by Valerie and Daf.   They all carried steaming mugs.   Those distributed, and more collected, Valerie and Daf left again.    "Was that an official break?" Mello called across the room.   Deontic looked back.   In shifting, he glimpsed Century's face. It was flushed.

Fenian had also seen.   He stared, then called out, "Matt, can I borrow your 'phone please?"    There was no movement.    "I need to dial Watari." Mello brought it over.    He stood beside Fenian, but dialled the network himself.    A few feet away, Century's lashes were wet, but his expression had been schooled back into blandness.   Deontic stood back to give him space.    "Thanks." Fenian took the 'phone, as it was offered for his password.     He kept it, while he selected 'S' from the list.    It took several long moments before Salvo answered.   "Hey, Sal, Fenian."   They watched Century's head rise sharply.    "Listen, I can't talk. Bit of a situation.   Just need to know something important."    Fenian nodded, though they didn't know what Salvo had replied.   "Is Century welcome back there?"   His eyes never left the teenager.   Century looked pained.   Fenian smiled.   "He's gone eighteen, so he's got his money.    Watari duty of care discharged; and you have your wife and child in your family home." Fenian paused. "Thanks a million, Sal.   Oh!   How long are you foreseeing this arrangement being true?"   He gave the thumbs up to Century.   "Dunno, mate. I think he thought he was being a gooseberry or a burden."

Century scowled, "Fenian."

"It's going shit, but thank you for asking." Fenian smiled.   "Speak to you tomorrow.   Thanks. See you."   He hung up and Mello took the 'phone.   "It's your home for as long as you need it to be.   Straight from the fucking horse's mouth."

"You put him on the spot."   Century hissed.   He glanced up at Mello, who was watching intently, then at Deontic, who smiled.

Fenian shook his head. "Would you not be ready to stop your whinging any time soon?"   He lit a cigarette. "It's been doing your head in and now you know.   He was not on the spot, because he didn't fucking know you were with me.   He could have told me to tell you to get your own place. He didn't.   He told me to fucking tell you to get your arse home."   He put his lighter away.   "So we can tick that off the list. Alright?"   Century looked mortified, but he nodded.   "Anything else I can put right while we're about it?"

Century shook his head.   "Leave it."

"Sure."   Fenian nodded. "But make yourself fucking ill over shit and I'll..."

"Leave it."

Fenian gestured his surrender, taking up his book again.   Century rubbed his own face, the colour flushed there.   He bowed over his map and wouldn't look up.   Deontic looked between the two, then locked gazes with first Hal and then Mello.   Both flashed smiles of encouragement at her.   She let her gaze linger briefly on Matt, but he seemed intent upon his 'phone and didn't acknowledge the attention.   She turned back to her flip-chart.   "Can we carry on with this please?"

"Very short psychology break." Fenian murmured. "Given the company."

Deontic frowned. "Do you need more time?"   She watched him shake his head with the minimum of movement. "Well, shut up then."   She exhaled and stared at the paper, steadying her mind. "Where were we?"

Mello helpfully interjected, "You were listening carefully to various pieces of evidence, so that you could pick out anything about water."   He smiled, sweetly, as Deontic cast a sharp glance in his direction. "Presumably because you have a latent theory, rather than it feeding into the psychology of your scare here before."

"I wasn't doing that, Mello!"

Mello held up his hands, "My bad." Beside him, Matt smirked over his 'phone.   Mello lowered his hands and snapped off a piece of chocolate.   "But it is a shame, because I also have a question mark over water."   Deontic stared at him, wide-eyed. Mello winked at her.   "I'm just thinking of those band members that got away from the carnage in and around the house.   They both found a source of water and committed suicide in it."   He shrugged. "Just working through the possibilities."

Century wrinkled up his nose and sniffed.   "I'm still trying to work out if Fenian got soaked in a stream coming from Nanteos. Trying to connect up the tunnels."

"I was already fucking..." Fenian began, then paused and chuckled. "Loving the description of these Welsh fairies. 'They were about the size of a six-year-old child, barefoot, dressed in white, with lovely white skins, but also with white hair and white eyes.'"   He flipped over the book to read the cover. "'Folklore of the Welsh Border' by Jacqueline Simpson, page," Fenian checked where his thumb kept his place. "76."

"Explains a lot." Century gave a grim smile. It was the best he could do for humour right now.

Mello paced forward. "What?"   He took the book from Fenian's hand and quickly scanned the lines. "Fuck yeah! Near's fucking Glinda."   He took the volume back with him to his place by the back wall and continued reading it.   In resignation, Fenian picked up another book from the pile that Kiana had found for him and flicked through that instead.   "Fenian." Mello spoke casually.   "You were already what?"

"Wet."

"Why?"   Mello's gaze rose from the pages and fixed onto the back of Fenian's head. The Irishman looked up.   Nothing was spoken.   Deontic and Century both were staring at Fenian now.   Mello moved so that he could see Fenian's expression too. It was studiously blank.   Fenian's current book descended slowly to rest on his lap.    His left hand started bouncing against the arm of the chair.   He was thinking.   "Are you trying to remember or are you several stages ahead of that by now?" Mello demanded.   He grabbed Deontic's handwritten report on what Fenian had experienced down in the caves and skim-read it. He frowned at Fenian and, in an accusing tone, stated, "You didn't encounter water until then."

"Give me a minute." Fenian growled.

Mello's eyes narrowed into icy slits, "Tell me where you got wet before the flooded tunnel and you can have all of the time in the world."

Deontic laid her hand onto Mello's arm. "This is intimidation."

Mello gave an ironic snort. "It's really not."

"You should be prepared to wait to see if the information is volunteered freely or else bargain for it with information of your own."   Deontic pushed, though it was obvious from her glances that she was as intrigued too.   Fenian's tapping grew faster and louder.   "It would otherwise be cheating."

They all watched Fenian. Long association with him told them that he had something big here.   They could practically watch the thought processes happening, once he'd become so entrenched in his cerebral ponderings, that he forgot to assume a neutral expression.   Century crossed his fingers. Fenian's eyes focused on Century. "Can I see the file again please?"

Century shook his head. "It's on-line."

Mello hissed, through gritted teeth, "Just ask your questions. We'll be able to answer them."

Fenian's gaze drifted up to momentarily meet Mello's.   The Irishman sharply looked away, surveying his knees, before lighting a cigarette.   "Kiana, in your POV, what energy does the megalith tap into?"

"POV?" Kiana bit her lip.

"Point of view."

"Oh!"   Her forehead furrowed, but she answered him. "Earth energies.   It's rock.   In the ground."

"Elemental, my dear O'Flaherty." Fenian smirked, but he didn't look at any of them.   "I think I have it.   But some things need checking.   Some conjecture needs confirming."

"Yes." Mello started. "Which you are in no position to do, because you've fucked your back up.   How did you get wet, Fenian?"

Fenian's hands rose to rub at his face.   His head bowed and he exhaled.   He didn't answer for the longest time, though the pressure of attention was on him.   Kiana laid her hand on his shoulder and he slipped a hand up to cover hers.   He shook his head.   "Fuck."   He sucked on the cigarette in his mouth.   "Why did I have to fall?" He left the cigarette between his lips, while his fingers sought out the crucifix around his neck.   He pulled on the chain, but not too hard. It was difficult to tell whether it was a concerted effort to pull the necklace off or simply a half-hearted gesture.   He soon released it to take up his cigarette again. "Fuck."

"Fenian." Mello began, sweetly.

Century interrupted, "You have solved it?"

"I think I've solved it. Yes." Fenian replied, gruffly, resignation on his features and betrayal in his eyes.   He sat back, obviously in pain.   His hand slid away from Kiana's to beat a tattoo on his leg. "But some things need to be checked. I might be wrong."

Mello sighed. "You thought it was an hallucination outside the rockfall.   It wasn't. An ambulance had crashed into the chasm. I think that you saw it."

Fenian stared at him and Kiana stiffened. "Oh?" Fenian swallowed.   "Survivors?"   He shook his head. "No. There never are."   He took another swift gasp on his cigarette.   "You'll be wanting information in exchange.   Here it is. The only thing that retains my faith in God, in this Godforsaken, unfair, fucking world, is strategically placed listenings of U2's 'Tomorrow' on repeat."   He was trying not to shake, though with which emotion, it was hard to say.   "And that's the only fucking U2 song I can stand."   His face creased and they all thought that he was going to cry.   He didn't.   "Probably fucking heresy in a bastard Irishman to be sure. Fuck!"

Nobody knew what to say.   Even Kiana just stood there grimacing, though she was the one who tried. "Lee? Should we go somewhere quiet to talk?"

"Or I could be quiet."   Fenian's eyes widened. "I could go and get it checked out. My back might be ok. Some painkillers. I could...."

"Liam." Kiana crouched beside him, trying to get him to meet her eyes. Compassion blazed across her features.   "Don't go back there."

"It's going to be geology.   It's going to be pot-holing."   Fenian gasped.

Kiana looked around, beseechingly, "Can we not have a minute please?"   Across the room came the tinny heartbeat of mournful notes and indistinct human voices.   A haunting tune began, played on uilleann pipes.   It was picked up on bass guitar and light percussion.   Matt held up his 'phone and no-one needed telling that he'd found U2's 'Tomorrow' on YouTube. Fenian covered his face with his hands again.   Kiana squared her shoulders and sat back on her heels.   "You've no idea what that song is about, or you'd not be playing it in a room full of fucking orphans."   She glared at Matt, causing Mello to automatically take a step forward.   Kiana mustered all of the authority that she could.   "Switch it off."

Bono began singing, 'Won't you be back tomorrow? Won't you come back tomorrow? Can I sleep tonight?'   But Mello was already speaking over him.   "Fenian, whatever you tell us will be witnessed by everyone here.   Who's the fucking judge and jury here?"   His arm was stretched out to his side, towards Matt, but his hand wasn't yet gesturing for the redhead to turn the music off.   "Is the cost worth it?   Potentially fucking your back up worse?   Never being able to climb again and for what?" Mello frowned slightly when he heard more of the emotive lyric refrains from the 'phone's mp3 player.   The song was patently about the death of a mother; disbelief dripped from the lyrics, delivered in raw anger and anguish.   Mello had expected something like this and was already steeled against it.   "Fenian, what example is this setting Century?"

"Do not," Century seethed, "bring me into this!"

Kiana yelled, "Can you just switch it fucking off?!"

Fenian's hand dropped from his face and he surveyed Mello blankly, though his eyes blazed with defeat.   "Izaći iz moje jebeno lice." He hissed, his accent imperfect, but the meaning clear enough.   It was Croatian for 'get out of my fucking face'.   Mello blinked.

Hal was already pacing towards Matt, ready to take the 'phone off him, if need be.   The redhead rushed away the second that she moved, taking his place beside his husband.   Mello grabbed the 'phone. Just as the song was speeding up with rock guitars and impassioned entreaties to Jesus, Mello switched it off.    He faced down Fenian. "I know enough anyway.   You got wet somewhere and that was important in some way.   I just have to retrace your steps.   Or," Mello smiled, "you can tell us and get the glory yourself."   He jerkily shook his hair back away from his face. "What's it going to be?"

"I'm sorry, Century."   Fenian replied, carefully, dully.   "If I thought you had the health to go after this, I'd be telling it [i]an Gaeilge[/i]. I think you have enough."   Beside him, Century's lollipop stilled in his mouth.   He just watched, darkly. Fenian didn't look at him.   The Irishman went on.   "Let Mello finish it.   If anyone has to go back there, better him than us. Besides, we've held his hand every step of the way thus far.   Leading him to his fucking conclusions."

"What?" Mello snapped.

Fenian had finished his cigarette. He lit another straight away.   "Lay out the map, so we can all see, Century." Fenian shifted slightly, pain creasing his features.   He settled again, with Kiana's arms wrapped around him, crossed on his chest.   "I'll give you your fucking framework.   Hang whatever evidence you want off it, because after this, I'm going up the fucking hospital. Then I'm going home." Behind him, Kiana flashed a smile at Century, mouthing 'come with us'.   "It was a sacred place once.   That's why there's a megalith and a yew tree.   It had fairy paths, crossing there.   One led in a spiral down the original cliff-face of the chasm.   A sacred spring was there."   He paused and every Wammy alumni listening seemed poised to speak. He waited, but they wanted to hear what he said first.   "Some fucker built the original house there..."

It was too much for Century.   "Rothero.   One of Glyndŵr's men."   Furious glances all around silently told him to shut up.

"One day Century will tell us why. I'm guessing that he was either just given the land and thought that was a nice spot; or he was a Catholic zealot, who wanted to convert anyone who came near the stone.   Whatever it was, he stayed and his family thrived.   Staunchly Catholic enough to help those fleeing the dissolution of Strata Florida monastery.   But the big prize, real or imagined, went up the mountain, into Nanteos.   The Powells were the ones with all of the money and the connections, the celebrity and fucking royal visitors; and the Holy fucking Grail." Fenian flashed a tight smile. "I think that the first tunnel was built then.   It went from the river to Nanteos Mansion..."

"It..." Century began.

"Please, Century." Deontic raised a finger to quieten him. "Fenian, go on."

"The tunnel was older. In places it was cut out of the bedrock.   It was older than those directly under the manor house." Fenian inhaled on his cigarette. "It was probably an escape route for Cistercian pilgrims and their priests.   How am I doing, Century?"

"Nanteos Mansion wasn't built then."

"I'll leave that part with you then." Fenian shrugged and winced. "Not my fucking speciality anyway. But something was fucking up there, because they built a fucking tunnel up to it.   Maybe just an escape route into the mountains? Who fucking knows?   It needs checking out."

Mello nodded.   "I can do that."

Fenian's mouth set tersely.   "Century, you said that there was an original priest hole, that got expanded.   Let's assume that the Protheros were doing their bit for the Catholic cause, whatever it was."

"Probably holding mass." Century ignored those trying to silence him now. "It would have originally been a very small room. It could have held a priest at a push, crouching down, but more likely it was just to store the stuff. Crockery. Whatever you call it."

"The holy sacraments?"

"Yeah." Century nodded.   "Hold a mass in that room. Put a candle in that window, which overlooks the valley and the Pilgrims' Way.   It could be seen for miles and by the right kind of people. They'd see the candle and know that there's a mass being held.   That's how it's worked elsewhere."

Mello licked a piece of chocolate between his lips. "The whole room could have been consecrated.   The altar definitely would have been.   Was that in the original priest hole or the room?"

Fenian frowned. "These are fine details. I'm just fucking giving you a framework.   I believe that somewhere along the way, there was resentment between the Protheros and the Powells.   The latter had the Grail and the society visitors. The former had a scraggy, little house, clinging to a cliff, next to a Pagan rock."   He gestured to indicate that he knew that was conjecture, then added, bitterly, "But some things in life really aren't fucking fair like that."   He hesitated, but no-one interrupted, even in reassurance. "So your man finds lead under his house and starts a fucking mine.   Not going to be hard to guess there's some under there. The whole fucking valley has been mined for lead and zinc.   He makes some serious money; but he also goes fucking Doolally, because he's messing with fucking lead."   He took out the piece of lead from his pocket, that he'd picked up from the floor of the mine, and held it out to Mello.   "Don't say I never fucking give you anything."

Mello took it and held it in his gloved hand.   He smirked, unconcerned.   "Carry on."

"Your man wants a big, fuck-off mansion, like the Powells up the hill."

Century took out his lollipop.   "Deverill Prothero.   He's the one who extended the house."

"But he's also stuck with a sodding great stone there.   So he builds over it. Which is a bit weird in itself, because he could have just knocked the fucker down and taken the land." Fenian met Mello's fierce gaze.   "But he doesn't because his family have lived there long enough to know that they're on the crossroads of two fairy paths."

It was Matt who responded. "Do you actually believe this or are you trying to get into her pants?"

Mello's whole stance was in readiness to leap between Fenian and Matt, but the Irishman was beyond caring.   With just the briefest sneer at Matt, Fenian plunged on, "It doesn't matter what I fucking think. It's what Deverill Prothero thought.   But if you want something that fits better with your worldview, then consider this.   His house is over an existing tunnel, through which the sounds of the river are going to echo up; not to mention whatever and whoever is fucking walking up and down it. Then the fucking mine's under there.   New tunnels.   The infrasound in the house is getting well fucking cranked up by then." Fenian took a last, long gasp on his cigarette, then put it out.   "God didn't help him and his family, so maybe the fucking devil would."

Fenian waited for such a long time that Mello spoke up.   "There's nothing new here. Loads of speculation, but nothing that hasn't already been put together."

"You've got to be looking at it from a mystical point of view; then think what he fucking did."   Fenian was tapping again.   He was reaching the crux of his story now and he was unsure whether to go on.   Mello opened his mouth to prompt him further, but Fenian saw and hurried on, disinclined to hear it.   "He built his home over the megalith.   Incorporated it into the centre of his fucking house.   I think that a survey is going to show us that he then built down, onto an original ledge below.   He encased that fucking rock from top to bottom and capped the top, extending what was once a Catholic sanctuary.   He then built a Satanic altar-room at the very bottom of it.   There was fucking one of them," Fenian drew a circle in the air with his finger.   Kiana frowned. "Satanic circle.   It wasn't Wicca. It's what happens when Christians invert their own religion. I've seen witchcraft."   He patted Kiana's arm.   "It wasn't Wicca. It was Satanism."

Century nodded, "And he went up old Strata Florida and dug up the remains of monks.   Defile something holy, is it?"

Fenian indicated that he had no idea. "It's a working theory. It's very feasible. There's certainly a lot of fucking bones in that...." He stopped and visibly shuddered. Then continued in a whisper, "You're welcome to it, Mello.   It's all yours.   They diverted the stream under the megalith. Water cancels out earth."

"What?" Mello scowled. "That's your fucking big revelation?"

It rallied Fenian.   He snarled back, "Fact one, where's the fucking water?   You're not going to get a boat on that piddling little thing; that fucking trickle running down the bottom of the chasm now. And you've got a mine full of bleeding lead to empty, with a water entrance halfway up the fucking cliff.   What's that doing there, Mello?   Brickwork entrance and rockfall covering it now?   It's where they got the fucking lead out!"   He glared at the Slav, who remained resolutely blank.   "Fact two, when I fell," he floundered, repeating, "when I fell..."

Mello smiled, "Now we get to it."

Deontic sighed, "Mello, please. Fenian, do go on. This is sounding very plausible to my mind, though you are right. We will need to confirm it."

Fenian looked very tense. "Ok, I don't know precisely how this worked. I think that he's got some kind of inlet or gully, that passes water under the megalith's base.   But that could be..." He stopped thinking.   "Shit, it needs investigating!   I fell onto something that broke and water rushed over me, then it stopped.   But it was stagnant." Realisation dawned. "And it was probably the source of the smell."   He looked vaguely incredulous, self-loathing taking over for a moment. "I didn't recognise the smell of stagnant water?   I live in a bog."

The other five Wammy alumni exchanged glances.   Century replied cautiously, "They don't need to know where you live, Fenian."

Fenian shook his head.   "Good luck with narrowing that down. You realise that a sixth of the fucking country is blanket peat bogs?   I'm not that fucking stupid."

Mello held up his chocolate, "Just a thought." He flashed a quick smile. "What are the chances that the tunnel diverting the main body of water is hidden now by woodland?"

"It'll be somewhere on the stream-bank, Mello."   Fenian countered.

"Which is covered in trees."   Mello smirked.   "I bet I could triangulate a small area where it would be.   It will be roughly in the area where Jan Pettersson was found. Which will also turn out to be the direction in which Century ran on the night when the rest of us were hallucinating our bollocks off."   He glanced at Deontic. "Figuratively speaking."

Deontic rolled her eyes. Mello looked delighted with himself, so she asked the question, "Why there?"

"Because we all found an entrance.   I think that the, whatever you want to call it, the zeitgeist of the house pulls people towards finding those entrances.   So we can find the tunnels.   Mail got locked in the priest hole.   He was right next to the top of the shaft tunnel.   I was stuck in the basement. I was beside the small door behind the coal.   Fenian said that he eventually left the tunnel beside the river, at stepping stones, on a weir.   That sounds very much like the spot where Deontic had her flashback.   It's also where Maya was found.   Fenian was pretty much turned back from the chasm exit, forcing him to discover the rest of the tunnels.   Now we're being told that there is possibly a water entrance somewhere west.   That will be the direction in which both Century and Jan ran.   We also know that that is somewhere above the stepping stones and that it eventually brings you onto the road.   Deontic was following Century, when she went too far south.   Fenian was at the same spot as Deontic, when Valerie and Daf saw him from the road above.   The same road that Century ran out on and was picked up by Mr Roberts. Hence," Mello grinned, "the water tunnel is over there."

They were all watching him.   Matt bowed his head over his 'phone, which had been returned with the kick-up game already programmed.   No-one could see his expression, but everyone else's ranged from startled to confused.   Fenian articulated his thoughts, "Either that's got enough holes to drive a Sherpa fucking tank through it; or it's gone right over my fucking head."

Mello shrugged, "Obviously it will need testing.   But I thought we were doing wild speculation in this round up."   He attempted to look nonchalant, or a little scathing.   He ended up just glowering, especially when a faint smile appeared on Matt's face.   Mello growled, "If his stream theory is correct, then you have even more infrasound in the house, so it's playing nicely into your ideas, Mail."

Matt looked up at him. "I know."

"Fine." Mello raised his chin and snapped off a strip of chocolate.   It was chewed and gone within seconds.

Deontic was looking through her notes.   "Where does the scrofula girl come into it? Two, maybe three of us, have seen her."

"Meleri." Kiana whispered.

Fenian shrugged, "One of the actual sacrifices?   Picked up off the Pilgrims' route, taken up the Nanteos tunnel, through the mine office and into the altar room.   There were real bloodstains on that altar."   He bit his lip. "Though the stains will have to be double-checked.   I fucking don't know anymore what was real and not down there."

Century removed his lollipop from his mouth. "She might help us date this.   Scrofula is the King's Evil, see? They thought you could cure it by touching royalty.   Popular right up until old William of Orange."   He paused, while Fenian simulated spitting and Kiana wrinkled up her nose.   "What? Oh.   Yeah. Bit of a bastard in Ireland, is it? But before that, he was out there banning touching royalty for poor scrofula sufferers."

"Isn't it a bit late for William of Orange?   I thought you were talking Georgian era here."   Fenian watched Century keenly. The teenager blushed scarlet.   "Not an era in history that you're at your usual brilliance, boyo?" Fenian winked.   "Would I be helping you to remind you that William of Orange destroyed Galway in 1691?   Laying the foundations of an economic decline from which the city is still recovering?"

"Relevance?" Deontic interjected.

Mello smiled kindly at Century.   "It could be relevant, Dee.   If the scrofula victims were rushing off to touch kings before this bloke, then where were they going afterwards?"   He jabbed a finger at Century's map.   "Might I suggest the hospital up the Ystwyth River?"   He pointed to Ysbyty Ystwyth, very close to the site of Strata Florida's ruins.   "Plus," Mello flashed another smile, "if I might be permitted yet more flights of pure imagination, didn't Fenian say that Nanteos had royal visitors?   Maybe she was enticed into the tunnel in the belief that she could sneak into Nanteos and touch the dude."

Deontic caught his eye.   "We'll get Kiana to ask her, when she next sees her, shall we?" She narrowed her gaze, while Matt sniffed back a chuckle.   "When did you stop taking this seriously, Mello?"

Mello's smile slipped. His tone dropped slightly, "I'm taking it very seriously, thank you."   His stare shifted back to Fenian. "You said that the only access to the alleged Nanteos Tunnel is through a door in the back of an underground office?   Sounds like it wasn't very publicly accessible.   Done surreptitiously?   Holy Grail heist?"

Century replied, "I think they used that tunnel to sneak into the basement and take the bones of the Grail monks.   Those bones are documented in the past, but a recent dig couldn't find them."

"Documented or part of local legend?"   Mello asked.

Century looked suddenly a bit lost. "I don't know."   They all watched him.   "My mind's gone blank." They could see the tell-tale signs of a rapidly approaching panic attack.   Kiana rose, while Deontic, right beside him, just looked awkward.   His eyes were glistening. "It's just gone blank."

Fenian said, softly, "Tawelwch, cariad. Fwc William of Orange."

"I don't know if Siân got back ok." Century breathed, deeply flustered. "Sorry, I am. Supposed to be the historian and..."

Matt interrupted, reading from the website displayed on his 'phone, "There's been a house on the site of Nanteos for 700 years. Present one built on the site of the last one. Monks thing is just legend."

"Need some air." Century stood and rushed past Deontic, Mello and Matt to the door.

Mello initially moved to follow, but instead he gestured to Lauren, "Go with him."   Lauren nodded and dashed out, into the freezing night, into Century's wake.   Mello gruffly asked, "Is there more or is that it?   Fenian?"

Deontic sighed, "There's a lot more.   Sifting through this lot to see what is fact and what's conjecture. Planning..."

"I meant facts." Mello countered.

"And moreover," Deontic glared, "why does it keep coming and going?   Peace for years, then bam!   Right in our faces."

Fenian's gaze was on the closed doorway, worry etched in his expression.   "Deverill could control the fucking water and thus the stone's energies.   I'm deducing that I broke whatever inlet was there, which hadn't been drained for fucking years.   It unleashed the big one.   When did the lights cut out?   Same time?"   He looked around.

Deontic answered, "It was 6.51pm."

"Sounds about right to me." Fenian's tapping was becoming more agitated.   "Other than that, it's the witch bottle."   He stared at Matt.    "Can you get our Land Rover working?   I'm taking Century out of this.   It's fucked up."

No-one contradicted him.

Author's Note: This story is being discussed here: http://mrsjeevas.joharrington.co.uk/forum/viewforum.php?f=11
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Annals of Fear II