Cursed [Book 1] ✔

Chapter 10: Minghan Again

I called Rafe to have him pick me up early. When he pulled up to my mother's house a half-hour later, I tried to lay out what I had learned about Ortiz without sounding crazy. As I went on and on relating my theories to the contents of the diary, his face remained impassive while he drove us home.

Finally, we were walking inside the apartment, and I shut up. His mouth opened, but I caught his lips with my own before he could get a word out. A few delicious minutes later, I came up for air.

"What was that for?" Rafe asked, not ready to let me out of his arms.

"Don't say I'm crazy just yet. Let my kisses bias your opinion."

"First off, I don't think you're crazy. Your ability relies on outward perceptions of people and nature, and it's possible that outward perception extends to everyday situations. If you sense a tie between your curse and what Ortiz went through, then I believe you."

It was my turn to sigh. "Why do you do that?"

He donned a crooked grin. "Do what?"

"Accept all that I am without compromise." His confidence in me made me uncomfortable. "There are times when I have been known to be wrong, ya know."

"About something like this? I doubt it."

He seemed ready to say more, so I prompted, "What's the second of all?"

"I know that you're looking for more answers, and..." he hesitated, which wasn't like him. I punched him in the shoulder, and he continued, "I know a way to get them."

My interest piqued, I shifted on the couch. "How?"

"There is an ancient Morcoso ritual of meditation that tribe members use to attain wisdom."

I scooted away from him. "Rafe, you know how I feel about prayer, and meditation, and all of that..."

"Yeah, but get over yourself. This might help you. Now, you wanna try it or not?"

He was right, I was being difficult. "Fine. Let's get started."

Rafe slid off his jacket and stood up. "First, I need to get a few things."

I assumed the things Rafe referred to would be more substantial than what he brought back with him: a bottle of sage, and five rocks.

To begin, he scattered sage over a small area on the floor, creating a sacred staging area. He also offered sage to the Great Spirit, sprinkling some at both our feet.

Next, he created what he called a medicine wheel with the rocks. One rock was placed in the center of the other four, and each rock represented a direction: North, South, East, and West. The center rock symbolized balance.

Legs crossed, we sat on opposite sides of the wheel, ready to meditate. I closed my eyes and was about to start chanting "Ummm," when Rafe tapped me on the shoulder.

"Wait for me to start. You don't even have a focus."

Keeping my eyes closed, I said, "Okay, then, I'll focus on something."

"That's what the wheel is for. Open your eyes and let it guide you."

Eyes on the wheel, I concentrated.

"Now, tell me your focus," Rafe said.

"You said that's what the wheel is for!"

Infinitely patient, Rafe said, "The wheel is the focus point, but you must know what you are meditating about before you can receive your answers. What exactly are you seeking?"

I bit my lip. "I want to know what connects everything together. What the cohesive event, person, or thing that is behind my visions."

"Kind of vague, but go for it."

I tried to visualize the question in my mind. While I was deep in thought, staring at the medicine wheel, I intoned, "Ummmmmmmmmm."

"Imogen."

"Ummmmmm, yes?"

"This would be one of those times when you're wrong. You don't have to chant. Just focus."

I had the misfortune of blushing mid-chant. "Right. I knew that."

Naiveté aside, I stared hard at the center stone for more than five minutes. My neck, shoulders, and butt were starting to go numb, but I kept on. Rafe's confidence about the ritual gave me the endurance to see it through all the way. Even so, after another five minutes, I was ready to pack it in. Nothing was happening, and I was beginning to get a headache.

The throb of the headache turned out to be the outer reaches of a higher state of consciousness. All of the noise fell away, and I was alone with the medicine wheel. Bright light flooded my living room. I was a blank slate, a piece of clay to be molded. I could have stayed a blank canvas forever, but I knew I had more important things to do. Remembering my focus, I imagined a common thread connecting Ortiz, Lillith, Lamashtu, Rosalind, and me. Quite naturally, the rocks of the medicine wheel transformed into molds of each person I was envisioning. In the center was me.

I looked around me at the vastly different figures: a Spaniard, a dark-haired goddess, a blood-stained Native American spirit, and my sister.

Rosalind pointed at me and said, "You forgot one."

Beneath my clothes, the beast in my belly began to squirm. "What is it?"

The Spaniard spoke. "Not a man among us can remember. Still, I will pray for you."

The goddess and the spirit leaned over to one another, whispering secrets as they glanced back at me every few seconds.

"You two did this!" I meant to scream my accusation, but it came out as a whisper.

"Not us. It was him." Blood dripped from her mouth as the goddess answered me. "Samael. He will return."

I hugged my belly, not caring if it harbored a demon or not. It was mine, and I would protect it. "No, not my baby. I will keep it safe."

"It is done. You cannot stop it. And I will have you once he is here." With no mouth, the spirit projected its thoughts into my brain.

Rosalind stood by, her face resolute. "Help me!" My cries did not move her.

"I cannot. You could not stop my death, and I know that. The same is true of this situation. It was meant to be."

A whirlwind descended on the circle, scattering the stones. Each form that I had imagined onto my blank canvas was blown away. No longer in the safety of the bright light, I was thrown backwards, sliding until I hit a wall.

"Are you okay?" Rafe inspected my head, checking for blood. When he found none, he waited for my answer.

Far from okay, I began to cry. "No, I'm not."

At the sight of my tears, Rafe became alarmed. "Where are you hurt?"

Though my head and back were throbbing from being tossed against my living room wall like a ragdoll, it was incomparable to the fear I felt for our unborn child. "I'm not hurt. I need to see Minghan." The answer had been easy from the start. Meditating had been unnecessary and dangerous. If anyone could help me, it would be the warrior medicine man.

"What? No. You need to rest, for the baby's sake."

"If I don't see him again, there may not be a baby." Blood from my nose dripped down and touched my upper lip.

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