by Jim Johnson
“I mean, doing all this guiding and beaconing and whatever. What’s the payoff, Miss Chin? The satisfaction from doing a good deed? We’re supposed to be, like, Good Samaritans and lead these people to their afterlife and just, I don’t know, be happy about it?”
She raised an eyebrow and leaned toward me. “What sort of reward do you think a Beacon would deserve for leading a lost soul from the mortal realm to the Holding, and then on to their final destination?”
I frowned, suspecting Miss Chin was setting me up. I raised my hands, and then shrugged. “I give up. I really don’t know.” I could feel tears of frustration welling up. “All I want to do is get comfortable, you know? I have a little job that’s not even a job, my family’s cut me out of everything, my grandpa lets me borrow money out of his wallet without expectation that I’ll be able to pay it back, and I live with my girlfriend rent-free because I have nowhere else to go.”
The tears were flowing out of my eyes now and I wasn’t even trying to pull a pity party. I stared at her, my mouth quivering, my hands shaking.
“I never thought I’d say it, but I don’t know what else to do. You were so nice the other day, telling me I had so much potential. I guess I started hoping that I might be good at something for once, that I might have some skill with this...this power, and now, now I wrecked it last night, and I don’t know what to do. I guess…I guess I’m just hoping to find out if there’s anything more.”
I took a shuddering breath, feeling the tightness of my throat closing in. I leaned forward, put my face into my hands, and wept bitter tears that spilled out of my hands along with the hope that I could actually make something meaningful of myself.
I heard her scoot closer to me on the brick ground, and then she reached out and touched my hands with hers. I snuffled into my hands but lifted my head, and allowed her to take my hands into hers. She focused her brown eyes on me. There was tenderness in there, and concern, and care.
I didn’t feel like I deserved any of it, and couldn’t bring myself to meet her eyes.
“Rachel.”
Just the simple word, my name, was enough to almost make me break into tears again. I took a deep, shuddering breath, and tried to control myself.
“Rachel,” she repeated. “Look at me.”
I bit my lip, took a deep breath, and then hesitantly raised my eyes until I met hers. I blinked rapidly, clearing my eyes of tears.
“I don’t know what you have going on in your head, but you must know that I’m here for you.” She sighed, then added, “What you’re learning, what we’re working on together, is very hard stuff. I can guess what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, why me? Why would I get to have all these crazy powers and do all these crazy things? Why me when I have other things I want to be doing with my life?”
“Kind of,” I said, sniffling.
She shrugged, a slight lifting of her shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer for you. Each person who Awakens to the true reality does so in a different manner, and are called to it in different ways. You had your way, I had mine, your friend Bonita had hers. We didn’t ask for it, but we certainly got it.”
She squeezed my hands and then let go, evidently satisfied that I wasn’t going to crash into hysterics again.
“What I can tell you is this. We have been blessed with these abilities by some higher power. I’ll leave it to you to determine what form that higher power takes and whether you believe these abilities are a blessing or a curse.”
She smiled, then added, “And while we didn’t ask to receive the powers, we do have a very important choice: we have the choice to use them or not use them. If you tell me that you have no desire to ever use these powers again, then that is a choice you make and I will respect it. You can walk out that door and be your normal self with your normal life, and may you make the best of it and be happy.”
“But,” she said, raising her finger again. “If you choose to learn, and to control and harness these powers, I can assure you that your life will be richer, more interesting, and more fulfilling than you could possibly dream.”
I stared at her, considering her words carefully. I nodded. “I think I understand.”
She smiled. “I mean, think of it, Rachel. You have been given a precious gift even if you cannot quite see it yet—you have the means to guide the lost to a more meaningful end. You can help people in a way that cannot be compared. Some people can help with money, some with food, some with shelter. You are able to guide lost souls to their final resting places.”
I stared at her. “Does that make me, like, an angel?”
Miss Chin shrugged. “Some have called you angels; others, Valkyries. There have been other names too. I like the term Beacon myself. It’s what my mentor taught me.”
“I don’t think I deserve this.”
“I don’t know what’s happened in your life to make you feel this way, Rachel, but I’m sure it was painful. And it will take time to work out.” She caught my eyes. “I’m no counselor, but sometimes the best healer is someone who’s been hurt.”
“Thanks.”
She sighed. “Being a Weaver isn’t a job—it isn’t even a career. It’s a calling. If you walk down this path and embrace it, you’ll do it until the day you die. And then someone will guide you to your afterlife, and I’m sure it will be one that was well earned.”
I met her eyes and nodded. “That’s a good thought—to have earned a good life.”
She smiled. “Indeed. To go back to your earlier thought—this calling as a Beacon, a Weaver, is not without its rewards. How do you think I could afford my house, my crystals, and books and furniture and so on?”
I shook my head, at a loss as to how to respond. She said, “I can’t give you details, not just yet, but be assured that there are resources at our disposal—resources not really obtainable by someone who knows nothing about the Veil or the Holding.”
I frowned. “Such as?”
She stared at the green dome over us. “A discussion for another day.” She squeezed my hand and then grinned at me. “But, trust me. That’s all I can ask.”
I stared into her eyes for several heartbeats, and finally nodded, sensing no lies. “All right.”
She stood and then helped me to my feet. She gestured toward the archway set into the amphitheater’s brick wall. “Since you’ve already gotten a preview, I think it’s high time I showed you how to both pierce the Veil and step through into the Holding. Interested?”
The broad smile stretching my face was all the answer I needed to give.
Chapter 42
MISS CHIN FOCUSED AND SHIFTED HER warding dome so that it covered us as well as the archway set into the amphitheater wall. “I strongly encourage you to use some form of warding protection for your first few attempts to open the Veil, as well as your first trips into the Holding. As should be clear now, there are people out there interested and willing to harm those inexperienced with the ley.”
I nodded. “Like the guy I encountered last night.”
“Yes. He is one who’s taken to calling himself the Spinner.”
I frowned. “You know about him?”
She nodded. “Only by name and reputation. I have yet to meet him personally. Given what I’ve sensed of his handiwork, I suspect I’ll run into him sooner than later.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what I’ll do the next time I meet him. I don’t think I’m ready to fight him.”
“No, you’re not.” Miss Chin stared at me with her large brown eyes. “And I’d encourage you to avoid such a fight for as long as possible. The more time you have to practice with your abilities, the better.”
I nodded. “That being said…” I gestured toward the archway. “Show me how to pierce the Veil.”
Her mouth quirked up. “Focus and center, and open your Eye to me.”
I took a deep breath and delved into my center on the exhale. It felt smooth, comforting, to fall back into a meditative state. I sensed Miss Ch
in’s aura tendrils spread around me, similar to the protective cocoons I’d used before.
“Very good, Rachel. You’ve clearly been practicing—this is going to be easier than I expected.” She indicated the warding dome. “Because we are shielded, the Spinner and others who may be watching out for signs of Veil manipulation should not be able to detect our practice today. I say ‘should’ because there are no guarantees, and I need you to understand this. Someone with intent and time could monitor the Veil in such a way that they’ll spot you, no matter how careful you are.”
“How many people are intent on using these abilities for, you know…evil?”
She shook her head. “There’s been no census taken. No one really knows how many ley practitioners there are. Suffice to say that there are enough out there who wish us harm that we should always be on our guard.”
“Jeez, I had no idea.”
She grinned. “There is much you have no idea about, but I will train you to the best of my ability.”
Great. Not the most ringing of endorsements, but I nodded anyway. “Thanks.”
She focused on the archway. “So. Focus on my actions, and observe. To open a rift in the Veil, gather ley threads about you and adjust their etheric frequency to match that of the Veil all around us.”
As she explained, she gathered up several blue ley threads and imposed her will upon them, adding her unique green tinge to them. Their flickering changed slightly. “You see? Now with the shifted ley threads, you touch them to the Veil, and open a conduit, or rift, whatever you choose to call it, in the Veil itself.”
She touched her shifted threads onto the bright white energy curtain contained within the archway, and the vague shape of a tunnel appeared in the center, ringed in blue and green threads of energy. Without touching any of the ley threads around us, I sat back with my mental abilities and observed as she manipulated the ley threads in such a way that the little rift she had created gradually grew, enlarging to the size of a small door.
Once she had shifted them to her satisfaction, she said, “Now, watch. The conduit is opened large enough for our use, so I take the threads I used to open them and anchor them to the ley grid below us, for security.” She did so, tying off the etheric bands to insubstantial stanchions built into the grid.
She glanced at me as she tied off the last one. “Always try to remember to anchor the threads you use to open the Veil. If you don’t, you run the risk of the conduit collapsing before you’re ready to return.”
“What happens if I forget, or if the conduit collapses anyway?”
She sighed. “Then you’ll be stuck in the Holding for a while, and then you’ll have to find your way out. Not impossible to do, but time-consuming.”
“Is it dangerous?”
She nodded. “Of course. Imagine your conduit closing before you’re ready. You’re trapped in the Holding, and the Spinner wants to eat you for breakfast. Good luck getting out of that situation, especially at your level of training. What’s the term? He would ‘own’ you.”
I frowned. “Then in that case, I’ll make damn sure I remember to anchor my threads.”
“Good.” She smiled at me. “Now, look at the archway. What do you see?”
I did as she asked, and had to stifle the instinct to flinch away. Inside the boundary of the archway, a spinning, shining tunnel had appeared, a mix of blue, green, and white energy vortices swirling around and around in a clockwise motion, not too dissimilar from the spiral I had used to help me meditate.
“It’s…honestly, it’s beautiful, Miss Chin. Does it look like this, all the time?”
She shrugged. “The colors are different depending on the user. I suspect you have guessed by now that each ley practitioner has their own aura color that they contribute to the ley threads and the workings.” She focused on the swirling shape in front of her. “The shape is partly dictated by where you choose to open the conduit.”
I glanced at her. “What can I use?”
She shrugged. “Anything that has a defined physical boundary, really. A doorway, a window, a sewer entrance. The list is rather extensive.” She raised a hand. “In fact, under duress, you can even create a rift in the Veil in midair, much as the Spinner did in the stairwell at the nursing home.”
I bit my lip. “And like I did at home last night?”
She frowned and looked sharply at me. “Well, yes. But the less said about that for now, the better.”
I flushed, but nodded. Most of the night was a blur anyway. I didn’t think I could remember all of it anyhow. I had been exhausted, after all.
She held her gaze on me. “What else do you see?”
“Oh, right.” I focused on the archway again. “Swirling energies, the blue of the ley, green threads colored in your aura…I’m not sure what I’m missing.”
“Does the conduit feel real?”
I nodded, focusing on it with my Eye and even tentatively reaching out a silver-tinged thread of my own. “It has substance and weight to it. It’s as real as you and me.”
She smiled. “Very good. Now…take my hand, weave your ley threads with mine, and we’ll walk in together.”
I stared at her, but nodded, my heart hammering in my chest in a mix of excitement and fear. I gathered several ley threads and adjusted them into a harness around myself as I saw Miss Chin doing, and then spread my threads out toward hers. Where they touched, they seemed to bond together. I sensed strength and support coming toward me through the connection.
Once secured together, Miss Chin reached out her hand, and encouraged me to take hold. “Now, Rachel, we cross over.”
She tugged gently at my hand and we moved toward the conduit and, with a simple step, entered the torrent of energy.
Chapter 43
I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I was. One moment I was stepping through the shimmering curtain with Miss Chin, and the next I was in a strange glowing tunnel that corkscrewed ahead of me in a spiraling flow of blue and green electricity. My stomach lurched several times and I think I might have thrown up, but other than Miss Chin’s hand in mine, I felt no other physical connection.
But I did feel movement—we were going somewhere and in a hurry. My Eye squinted against the bright flow of lights passing by at breakneck speed. Before I had a chance to cry out, Miss Chin and I were vomited out of the glowing conduit and deposited onto a washed-out, gray colored ground. Miss Chin landed gracefully on both feet, but I stumbled out of the conduit and my feet caught on the ground, and I stumbled and fell, losing my grip on Miss Chin’s hand in the process.
“Oh, goodness! Are you all right, Rachel? I forgot to remind you that the entry can be a little rough.”
I pushed myself up to my hands and knees and glanced down. My hoodie and shirt were clean, so I hadn’t barfed in the conduit on the way here, but as I gathered my senses about me and realized that I had no idea where I was, I felt a strong spasm in my stomach and then I lost my breakfast all over the place.
Fortunately my hair was tied back but still…ugh. I heaved until my stomach was empty and then I heaved a little more. Miss Chin moved in behind me and rested a hand on my shoulder as I convulsed, and whispered to me, though I couldn’t make out the words.
After a few ugly minutes, the dry heaves ceased. Miss Chin eased me into a sitting position and then handed me a couple of tissues she produced out of her coat pocket. “Are you all right?”
I took the tissues and wiped my mouth, grimacing at the acidic taste clinging to my teeth and tongue. “Bleah. What I wouldn’t give for some mouthwash.” I pulled my satchel around off my hip and rummaged in it for a stick of gum. All I had was a beaten-up stick of Big Red, which would do just fine. I shoved it into my mouth and started chewing, the hot cinnamon flavor a sharp contrast to the sick.
I wadded up the tissues and tossed them into my satchel, then glared up at her. “God, Miss Chin. Next time we do anything like that, warn me ahead of time? I don’t know how many surprises like that I can take.”
The sky was equally gray, like most of the color had been drained out of it. Hardly any color anywhere—even the clothes Miss Chin and I had on looked faded. I glanced at her. “Is it my imagination or have we switched to black and white?”
“Black and white?” She shook her head. “Not exactly. That’s just the natural color of the Holding.”
I shook my head. “Didn’t you say at one point that sometimes lost souls don’t want to come here, and would rather roam our world for a while?” I gestured around. “No wonder. This place isn’t exactly a prime vacation spot. It could stand to use a little freshening up.”
Miss Chin chuckled quietly. “What would you recommend?”
I shrugged as I took a few steps around to investigate, careful to sidestep the puddle of sick I’d left on the ground. “You’d be amazed at the difference a fresh coat of paint would make, for instance.”
I walked over to a nearby wall and poked at the gray bricks. A little blue spark arced off the wall and popped, little more than a static charge going off. “Are there ley threads built into the wall?”
“They are everywhere, woven into the very fabric of the Holding. Unlike the ley grid you saw before, the Holding contains etheric energies everywhere. It’s built out of etheric energy from the countless billions of souls who have died and crossed over.”
I whistled in surprise. “That’s a lot. Does each soul somehow contribute to the overall quantity of etheric energy here?” I glanced at her.
She shrugged. “Possibly. Other Weavers and ley practitioners have theorized as much in the past, though I have to admit I don’t spent a lot of time dwelling on theories. I tend to be more practical about such matters.”
