I thought for a second, and then I said, “And I’m doing it for me and Rose. Because I won’t be trapped like this, and she shouldn’t be either.”
The circle passed on, carrying the keys forward, more like it was going down a spiral staircase I sat in the middle of, than around in a loop. I couldn’t even see the floorboards, now. Only the lines and bowls.
I could hear Rose behind me, still talking, as if she were very distant. “-than a vestige.”
The circle stood before me. Honey.
I looked down at the book, and I started into the phonetic pronunciations again.
Each of the dishes passed by me as I recited the lines. More than ritual, I was getting the sense that this was a means of breaking bread. Leaving gift baskets for the neighbors to let them know you were in town.
The circle carried the dish onward. There was only the line.
I kept reading. More words. I could pick up the English more easily, now.
My word is bound and binding. I ask you respect it as such.
My actions are my own, but have an equal amount of weight.
So I pledge.
The line shifted, until the white line was no longer encircling me, but crept towards me, like the divider in the middle of the highway, with my bike veering off course.
The ‘divider’ hit me, passing under my knee, then my legs. It was a matter of seconds before it was passing directly beneath me. A quick glance behind me showed me that it wasn’t carrying on.
Darkness, one straight white line, and me.
More lines appeared. From the other circles that had disappeared, from other directions.
My legs shaky, I stood.
I nearly fell as a line coursed forth from high above and caught me in the shoulder.
I was glad I hadn’t fallen. I wasn’t sure if there was a ground beneath me to catch me. My feet weren’t on solid earth.
The lines were larger, more meaningful, and I could see further. I could see the circles attached to each line, like planets in orbit around things I couldn’t make out. A system all around me, that I was now a part of.
I felt like Rose must feel all the time. Being there, but not quite alive. My body was only there because my sense of self required it.
I opened my eyes, and I came back into my body.
Chalk lines crossed the floor, the circles still evenly spaced around them, but they had expanded, decentralized from around me. The lines now intersected at points, and the spaces between bowls were five to ten times as far as they had been before.
The bowls, as a result, were scattered around the room, each upright. The incense still smoked, but the bowls that had held food were empty.
I was standing, the book on the floor in front of me. I reached down to see if there were any other instructions, and stopped.
I could see birds, flapping their wings, against my skin. They moved, and the branches they were on bobbed lightly. The watercolor background shifted.
“You okay?” Rose asked.
I started to speak, and then stopped myself. I had to be careful.
“I… may be seeing things,” I said. I glanced her way, and saw her sitting in front of the mirror. Her legs were bent, knees almost up to her chin, arms around them, protecting her modesty. I turned and stepped around the desk, where the furniture would protect mine. I grabbed my boxers and jeans and pulled them on.
I heard a page turn.
“The book says you need to learn to manage your extra senses. If you don’t, they can swallow you up, and you won’t find your way back to reality.”
“I think I remember.”
“It suggests techniques, but you have to find what works for you. Closing your eyes, but not moving your eyelids. Or try refocusing them, and find that point you reach to where you’re trying to refocus your eyes but you’re doing something else. It becomes as natural as anything else about your body. Sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it’s easy.”
The bowls were still moving, I noted. The lines still drifting. One bowl made a ‘clink’ as it reached the wall, tapping the foot of one cabinet.
“How did you do it?” I asked, as I buttoned my jeans.
But Rose wasn’t in the mirror.
I looked around me. There were other things that were catching my eye, now. The lettering on books glittered a bit too much here and there, where the light caught it. The script on the letter I’d torn stood out in bright blue where I’d torn it, while the other half remained nearly invisible.
I closed my eyes, exhaling, and then opened them.
But for the chalk lines and bowls in strange places, the room was normal.
I reversed the process. Eyes closed, inhaling, eyes open.
Again, there were the hints of life. I could see something faint, like dust motes, spraying lightly where the room ended and the hallway began. As though the space warping effect was creating a kind of friction between spaces.
When I focused on the motes, they stood out in my vision, and I could see more of them in the room.
I cupped my hand to catch one.
It turned, doing a small somersault before darting between the fingers that tried to close around it.
I did what I’d done before, but I didn’t close my eyes.
The effect faded.
I turned it on again, but without doing anything with my breath or eyes.
Natural.
I checked to see if Rose had appeared, verified she hadn’t, and picked up the book. I finished the chapter, rereading the bit on being awakened and the sight. Now, as agreed on by men and Others, long ago, I’d see what was normally hidden from people.
Practitioners fell into categories, depending on their focus. Some carried on this route, learning ways to influence the world that were naturally in tune with their bodies and will. Some practitioners manipulated spirits, getting them to obey or infusing them into objects. There were some who dealt with Others. Many cultures, a long, long history of arts being invented and refined, it made for a wealth of possibilities.
I felt more equipped, now. I couldn’t do anything but see, but I felt calmer, without as great a weight on my shoulders.
That would inevitably end when I got to the council meeting.
“Rose?” I asked. “Are you getting changed?”
I approached the mirror.
Her diagram was still on the floor. It hadn’t scattered like mine had. It was still in place.
I realized I hadn’t checked what her personal object was.
I searched the outer rim. Coin, skull, dreamcatcher…
“I don’t think it worked right,” Rose said, stepping into my field of view before I could spot it. She was dressed, now.
“What?” I asked. “You didn’t? Why not?”
“It did something. I…”
“What?” I asked.
She looked upset, met my eyes briefly, and then looked down. “I… felt something, when I pledged my word. I can see things. But I don’t think it worked for me like it worked for you. I may have fucked up. Pledging something in exchange for nothing. Losing the ability to lie, and getting nothing in exchange.”
“How can you be sure?” I asked.
“I’m not. But… nothing ate my offerings like they did yours. Nothing moved, as far as I can tell. I… don’t think I can see anything on this side, because there’s nothing really to see.”