senses defenses

But as I approached the front door, I was struck by two things: First, a modest, plain bronze plaque fixed to the wall that spelled out the words BETTER FUTURE SOCIETY in letters an inch high. Second, that my magical senses were all but assaulted by the humming power of the defensive enchantments that had apparently been built into each individual stone of the castle. I had to pause for a moment and put up a mild mental defense against the hum of unfamiliar power, and I had the impression that the other wizards with me had to do the same.
Whoever had constructed this place, they’d warded it at least as heavily as the defenses of the White Council’s own headquarters under Edinburgh. I could have hurled Power at this place all the ding-dong day, and it would have about as much effect as tossing handfuls of sand at sheet metal. It was similarly fortified against spiritual intrusion, with the only possible access points being the heavily armored entryways—and even those had been improved upon since I’d slipped my immaterial self through an open door.
Nothing was getting in now. The castle would make one hell of a defensive position.
Or, some nasty, suspicious part of me said, nothing was getting out, making it one hell of a trap.
“Huh,” Ebenezar said, squinting at the castle. “That’s old work. Real old.”
“Our people, you think?” I asked him.
“Nnngh,” he said, which meant that he didn’t think so. “Maybe Tylwyth Teg. Maybe even Tuatha.”
“Tuatha?”
The old man’s mouth curled up at one corner, and his eyes were thoughtful and approving. “The ancient enemy of the Fomor,” he said.
“Ah,” I said. “Statements are being made.”


Peace Talks Chapter 19, Page 185-186