She waved the smoking stick around as she spoke. “I know your mother has laid much of the groundwork, so I will skip Consciousness 101 and go right to the master class. You need to energize your meridians with breath work. Once we raise your Kundalini to your celestial gate, you can command entrance to the portal you want to enter.”
“Do we know what portal I want to enter?” he asked.
“We do. But first you can practice with this cedar essence. I’ve added myrrh too. Sit.”
They sat on the floor of her parlor and she ran him through drills that were familiar, but amplified by a factor of ten. When his body was buzzing, they stood up and walked to the center of the room. In it was a circle of purple crystals; the flower of life patterned the floor beneath their feet.
“Step into the circle with intention,” Vivienne said. “Where do you want to go?”
He looked to her for the answer. She stepped in with him and filled their circle with the incense. He noticed that the effervescent smoke stayed within the perimeter of the drawn circle.
“Close your eyes,” she ordered. “And count backward from five.”
Argan was able to slip out of his body with the slightest intention. He felt it was too easy; perhaps Vivienne’s presence was heightening his abilities. He followed her directions, and when he got to one, he opened his eyes.
They were sitting in the park not far from Vivienne’s apartment. The sun was warm on his face and the air smelled like the sea.
“I am helping show your nervous system what it’s like to let go of your body and travel on the astral,” she explained. “Once we do it a few times, you will be able to do it alone. Each time you close your eyes, follow the countdown and set the intention to go somewhere else. You must picture it in your third eye. But these first times, I will guide you.”
They practiced for the afternoon and into the evening. Each time, Argan was able to “fly” anywhere Vivienne commanded. With their bodies planted on her parlor floor, they were transported to the Pyrenees Mountains, Provence, and Rosen, all within an hour. “Some of my favorite places,” she said. “Except Rosen. But I thought you’d like to see a familiar place.”
He handled all of the reality jumping reasonably well. Back on her floor, he glanced in the mirror. “No additional gray,” he said.
“No, astral travel won’t cause aging,” she said. “The Portas have transitional energy associated with them. When you pass through one, it ‘thinks’ you are dying. That’s what causes the aging.”
He nodded. That sounded plausible, magically speaking.
“Let’s give you a break for the night. Get good rest, no dreaming.” She placed her hand on his forehead as if to seal in the request. “Tomorrow we will practice with the Porta. You are one step closer. You will leave on the New Moon. Worlds are thinnest then.”
Argan returned to his room with his head on a swivel, looking at all of the mysteries in Vivienne’s apartment. Sprinkled within the historic architecture were small touches most wouldn’t notice that hinted at the magical nature of the lady of the house. Stones marked with Janarric runes sat in a wicker basket on the floor. Next to it was an indoor gardening table filled with dried herbs. One live plant sat among them, its tiny white buds opened wide to reveal hundreds of mesmerizing flowers. Having been in the Silverwood greenhouse, Argan was used to odd plants, but this one unexplainably drew him in. The tiny flowers seemed to each hold their own reality, their own world, within. He found himself gazing for far too long.
“The udumbara flower only blooms every three thousand years,” Vivienne said behind him. “I so love it when it does.”
She followed him on his trip upstairs. He peered into the various bedrooms as they passed them, noticing stuffed cats in most of them. He counted at least a dozen. He gave Vivienne a questioning look.
She shrugged. “I’ve kept all my cats.”
That night, he didn’t have any trouble with not dreaming, because it was impossible to fall asleep. He lay in bed as the moonlight streamed in, hitting him in the face. He got up to draw the curtains but there weren’t any. He pushed his bed out of the way of the window and climbed back in.
His heart rate now elevated, it was no use. He got back out of bed and went into the hall. The door next to his bore the familiar symbols of the Porta. He was no stranger to the supernatural. He had gone with Skylar back to Silverwood and to the Underworld; he could handle wherever this door led. He reached out a hand …
“It leads to the attic,” Vivienne said, startling him out of his thoughts.
“Good evening, Vivienne,” he said respectfully. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I rarely sleep anymore,” she said. “They say that’s a sign of age, but that can’t be my reason.”
“I thought this was the death door?” he asked.
“It’s amusing that you’ve named it that,” she said. “But no, not the death door. Come with me.” She led him down the spiral stairs to the main level. They walked into the kitchen and toward the restaurant-size refrigerator. Next to it was the pantry door. She gestured toward it. “Here you go.”
Without hesitating, he opened it. Nothing but blackness in front of him. It was just like the alchemical door in the cabin at Silverwood. “I want to go now,” he said. “Every moment I wait, Skylar suffers.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. “If anything, the divine plan is going along as it should. She has grown immensely in the last two years. She can handle herself.”
“Can we at least practice now?” he asked, glancing down at his pajama bottoms.
“Yes, we are within the three-day window of the New Moon,” she said. “Energies are favorable.”
She fixed two cups of tea. She sipped one; the other she immediately poured down the drain. She studied the remnants left in the porcelain mug. “Where shall you go? Silverwood? The Underworld? You’re familiar with those.”
“Yes, either will do,” he said.
“Silverwood it is,” she said. “Very well. Remember all we went over yesterday, and I will help you.”
He took in a deep breath and counted backward from five. She put her hand on his back, and when he reached the count of one, she pushed him through the door.
He dared not open his eyes until he landed on hard ground. When he finally did, he was relieved to find himself in the alchemist cabin. “Wow,” he said. “Not hard.” He took a few deep breaths and walked around the room. It was quiet, but not peaceful. The energy seemed sucked out of the space, or dead, as if no life had been there since they’d left.
“You animated this place with your life force,” he heard Vivienne say.
He looked back at the doorway, now black space from the other side of life. “How long do I stay here?” he asked, now realizing he didn’t have her to push him back through.
A hole burned through the blackness, and he saw her face on the other side. “Come now,” she called and reached out her hand.
He grabbed it without hesitation. She pulled him through the doorway and he was back in her kitchen.
He caught his breath. “Any grays?”
“You weren’t there long enough,” she said. “Expect a few when you go to the First Age.”