balanced in the candlewick. He inhaled and charged his awareness.
“Join hands,” Sybelle said softly, lifting her arms.
Orient gripped Hazer’s blunt hairy hand on his right and, gently took Lily’s fingers with his left hand. Her long, warm fingers caressed his skin. ,..
As his concentration expanded, Orient began to sense a running current of tension, raising the pulse rate in his left wrist. He fixed his awareness on the flickering flame and felt the energy building around the table.
Germaine’s vibration was massive, Sybelle’s balanced and immovable, Maxwell’s restrained; even Hannah and Neilson radiated steady elements of empathy and concentration.
Then he felt the tension within Lily, pulsing rapidly through his wrist. She was straining to keep her consciousness in focus.
“Are we welcome?” Sybelle whispered.
Orient looked at her face across the table. Her eyes were closed and her chin hung down, dangling as if a bolt in the hinge of her jaw had been pulled out.
“Vic... tor... greets... you all. “
The sound rasped from her slack, unmoving mouth. Her lips puckered. “Will you guide... me tonight?”
There was a long pause.
“Cannot... go there....”
Sybelle moved her lips. “Why Victor?”
“Cannot cross... go back....”
“Why?” she persisted.
“Cannot... go back….”
Victor’s voice became a moan that faded into Sybelle’s heaving chest.
“Why Victor?” she called. As Sybelle spoke, Orient felt the energy in the room intensify.
Every vibration in his awareness began to hum and he saw Sybelle begin rocking back and forth.
Lily’s hand trembled in his as she fought down the rush of tension that was crackling through her body.
Orient felt his own control waver and pitch dangerously. Something behind the table fell, splintering noisily against the floor.
A sputtering, electric wind began to whirl around the table, sending tiny sparks against the ceiling.
“Leave us,” Sybelle commanded, her voice loud and harsh.
The candle flame blinked out, plunging the room into total darkness.
Orient felt both Lily and Hazer tighten their grip on his hands as the wind buffeted the room. His arms and legs began to jerk as soft shocks of energy shot through his body. He closed his concentration around the pinpoint memory of the candle flame and from that image forged a loop-topped cross of light. He fixed the picture of the luminous Ankh, the loop-topped symbol of the life force, in his mind and tried to remember the words of dismissal. Heavy thumps and the metallic crash of shattering glass exploded against his concentration. Orient held the image of the Ankh behind his closed eyes and called out the formula through the increasing static of the wind.
“Buldumech. Thou art commanded by the God of Abram and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob— leave this house in peace.” He repeated it slowly.
He felt the table shift and heard the candle roll off the table.
“Leave us,” Sybelle whispered, her voice hoarse.
Lily’s voice rose. She was shivering uncontrollably and mumbling indistinct singsong sounds.
“In the powerful name Agla,” a calm, melodious voice intoned, “go in peace.”
Abruptly, the wind faded and the only sound in the stillness was the rising and falling of Lily’s straining voice.
There are three no more...
in one is the key
find the drawer...
there are three no more…
in one is the key…
She sobbed, repeating the meaningless rhyme over and over in the blackness.
5
Orient pulled his hand away from Hazer’s grip, and broke the circle. He put his arms around Lily and held her tight.
“... find the drawer... she continued, her head against his chest.”... there are three....”
“Easy, it’s over,” he said softly. He opened his awareness and tried to absorb the fear that was squeezing her throat. He held her close and whispered reassuringly as the rigid tremors in her body ceased.
Maxwell
“Join hands,” Sybelle said softly, lifting her arms.
Orient gripped Hazer’s blunt hairy hand on his right and, gently took Lily’s fingers with his left hand. Her long, warm fingers caressed his skin. ,..
As his concentration expanded, Orient began to sense a running current of tension, raising the pulse rate in his left wrist. He fixed his awareness on the flickering flame and felt the energy building around the table.
Germaine’s vibration was massive, Sybelle’s balanced and immovable, Maxwell’s restrained; even Hannah and Neilson radiated steady elements of empathy and concentration.
Then he felt the tension within Lily, pulsing rapidly through his wrist. She was straining to keep her consciousness in focus.
“Are we welcome?” Sybelle whispered.
Orient looked at her face across the table. Her eyes were closed and her chin hung down, dangling as if a bolt in the hinge of her jaw had been pulled out.
“Vic... tor... greets... you all. “
The sound rasped from her slack, unmoving mouth. Her lips puckered. “Will you guide... me tonight?”
There was a long pause.
“Cannot... go there....”
Sybelle moved her lips. “Why Victor?”
“Cannot cross... go back....”
“Why?” she persisted.
“Cannot... go back….”
Victor’s voice became a moan that faded into Sybelle’s heaving chest.
“Why Victor?” she called. As Sybelle spoke, Orient felt the energy in the room intensify.
Every vibration in his awareness began to hum and he saw Sybelle begin rocking back and forth.
Lily’s hand trembled in his as she fought down the rush of tension that was crackling through her body.
Orient felt his own control waver and pitch dangerously. Something behind the table fell, splintering noisily against the floor.
A sputtering, electric wind began to whirl around the table, sending tiny sparks against the ceiling.
“Leave us,” Sybelle commanded, her voice loud and harsh.
The candle flame blinked out, plunging the room into total darkness.
Orient felt both Lily and Hazer tighten their grip on his hands as the wind buffeted the room. His arms and legs began to jerk as soft shocks of energy shot through his body. He closed his concentration around the pinpoint memory of the candle flame and from that image forged a loop-topped cross of light. He fixed the picture of the luminous Ankh, the loop-topped symbol of the life force, in his mind and tried to remember the words of dismissal. Heavy thumps and the metallic crash of shattering glass exploded against his concentration. Orient held the image of the Ankh behind his closed eyes and called out the formula through the increasing static of the wind.
“Buldumech. Thou art commanded by the God of Abram and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob— leave this house in peace.” He repeated it slowly.
He felt the table shift and heard the candle roll off the table.
“Leave us,” Sybelle whispered, her voice hoarse.
Lily’s voice rose. She was shivering uncontrollably and mumbling indistinct singsong sounds.
“In the powerful name Agla,” a calm, melodious voice intoned, “go in peace.”
Abruptly, the wind faded and the only sound in the stillness was the rising and falling of Lily’s straining voice.
There are three no more...
in one is the key
find the drawer...
there are three no more…
in one is the key…
She sobbed, repeating the meaningless rhyme over and over in the blackness.
5
Orient pulled his hand away from Hazer’s grip, and broke the circle. He put his arms around Lily and held her tight.
“... find the drawer... she continued, her head against his chest.”... there are three....”
“Easy, it’s over,” he said softly. He opened his awareness and tried to absorb the fear that was squeezing her throat. He held her close and whispered reassuringly as the rigid tremors in her body ceased.
Maxwell
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