A TRAP for a THOUGHT-FORM
a novel in the series
"PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY"
Chapter 20. SOLOMON’S PENTACLE
I woke up in the morning, as planned, and went into the Blizzard. There was still no Sun. The city, hidden in the snow, seemed puppet-like. However, listening to the Silence, in which the distant bells were ringing, I got straight to the church. Yes! The very one! At the edge of the forest!
I stepped inside, there was no one there. Due to the epidemic, the number of masses had been reduced to a minimum. I came up to the icon of Saint Nicholas and asked him to help Pasha, and the Guardian, and Roman, and the Wanderer, and all my friends and enemies.
Having bypassed all the icons important for me, I returned to the counter with candles and said “Hello!” to the saleswoman. However, the old lady continued to dust the showcase. Was she deaf?
“The 40-day prayer, please!” I shouted.
The old lady turned around, but at the same moment I noticed the sign “Cash only!” and discovered… I hadn’t any!
“Sorry…” I apologized and left the church.
***
In the evening, I was standing in front of the entrance to the Mansion (in front of the Left Door), when I caught a glimpse of the Witch in the archway.
I decided to talk to her first.
“Alice! Are you perfectly moving in the Blizzard already without the King of Swords?” she grinned. Her question puzzled me, but she continued, “Those photos, a bunch of those ones, remember?”
“Oh, yes, sorry! I dropped them… by accident,” I said and got embarrassed immediately because nothing was accidental. “I hope they survived!”
“The Blizzard stole most of them, but some… Have a look! I carry these photos with me to show to those, who are missing on them!”
I got cold and took a few.
“It’s the same,” I stated. “The same furniture, the same Giant Mirror…”
“Yes, of course! This is exactly our Mansion! There are no us in it only! Here is the picture with you and me, standing together at the Giant Mirror. Do you remember?”
I thought, “Could it be that the Witch is showing me photos taken, for example, at night, when everyone has already gone?”
“Alice!” the Witch shook her head reproachfully and handed me another photo, which, apparently, she kept for dessert. It was a picture of me and her on the stage at the piano next to the Giant Mirror. Yes, we turned out to be too blurry, but it happened with objects in motion.
“And?” I asked, not understanding the trick.
“Where is our reflection in the Mirror? And where are the shadows?”
“What shadows?”
“Yours. And mine. Where?”
I looked at the photo once more. There were no shadows, and we were not reflected in the Giant Mirror. However, we were too blurred for that maybe.
“What the progress has come to!” I thought. “Such effects are endless!”
“Alice,” the Witch exhaled angrily, “if you want to talk about it, call me mentally. I hope I can hear you, even from afar!”
She snatched the exclusive photos from my hands and disappeared into the Blizzard.
***
The Guardian smiled as if nothing had happened, took off my snow-powdered furs, hung them on a hanger and invited me to the cafe with a gesture.
“Is Solomon the King himself coming to visit us today, Alice?”
“A Solomon’s Pentacle maker, the Honorable Milord of the Writers’ Order!”
“What is he going to do here, among the poor writers, if he knows the secrets of crafting the most powerful Pentacle that fulfills any wish of its owner?” the Guardian grinned as he brewed coffee.
“Ask Milord yourself. I haven’t tried his pentacles.”
“I am not supposed to ask unnecessary questions,” the Guardian shifted his gaze to the antique clock.
“Then I’ll ask you a question. You’re younger than me, aren’t you?”
“Just a little bit. We’re almost the same age.”
“Do you have children?”
The Guardian put his cup of coffee on the table and, crossing his arms over his chest, nervously drummed his fingers.
“Why did it suddenly become important, Alice? By the way, don’t you know that for any Creator, including writers, each work is a child. Am I wrong?”
“Don’t multiply the entities beyond necessity!” I remembered for some reason.
The Guardian was about to say something in response, but the hero of the party appeared in the hall.
***
Poor Milord! He had written a fiction novel, and the guests seriously tortured him with questions about…
…the principles of pentacle manufacturing and operation,
…the algorithms for penetrating other dimensions,
…where and on what basis the corpse transgressed into the sorcerer’s room!
I had fun listening to Milord’s answers.
“Of course, magic wands are sold in London on the Platform 9 and 3/4, but after all, if desired, one can make a magical accessory, endowing it with one’s own power, without leaving home. And it will work. One just has to be confident in oneself and…”
“Do you believe in yourself, Alice?” Roman greeted me mentally with his question, appearing in the hall.
I remembered my magic wand, it worked great. But did I believe in myself 21 nights before…, not reflecting in the Giant Mirror and casting no shadow “here and now?”
***
I brought coffee to Roman, sat down next to him and silently recounted the “breaking news”.
“The old lady in the church, did she hear you after all or not?” Roman asked.
“She turned around and looked me straight in the eyes.”
“Nothing… Though some people see ghosts, too.”
“Do you think we are ghosts?” I asked, being absolutely sure we were not.
“What happened between you left the church and met the Witch?”
I dived into my memory.
“Erased! Are you saying that ghosts sleep during the day?”
“To be honest, I don’t know if ghosts sleep during the day, and if so, with whom,” Roman grinned. “I wonder… whether ghosts need to learn magic. Should they die again, stepping into the Portal on the 40th night?”
“I really have a lot of things erased from my memory. Not only days, whole years. For example, I know that you and I had a fragment of some shared past, but I don’t remember which one. I remember my feelings, experienced then, in that fragment, however, I don’t remember where and how long we were in it, why and how we got there. I don’t remember anything else. All that is left for today is you and me…” having realized how impermissibly far I had gone in my thoughts, I abruptly stopped, exhaling hastily, “Sorry…”
Having answered nothing, Roman mentally stroked my back. He looked as if he knew something I didn’t. It was Ray’s look. Sometimes, joking with me, Ray made me solve charades that had no solution at all. I didn’t always understand whether he was serious or joking, but he always already knew everything.
Anyway, I wanted Roman and me just to stay there together and silent, without any, even mental, clarification whether we were ghosts or not, whether the Guardian was the killer, whether that church really existed, and whether the endless Blizzard would ever end.
“Half of the 40 nights are over. Would I be able to scroll through them again later in order to relive these moments of ‘here and now’ in which we were together?”
I closed my eyes, hugged Roman and…
…no, I couldn’t kiss him… not even on the cheek…
And I wanted to scream…
…from my own powerlessness!!!
Even when I had only 20 nights left…
…I couldn’t!
…I could not!
…I COULD NOT get over my own fear!!!
The Guardian rang the bell.
“I HATE YOUR DEVIL’S TRILL!!!” I shouted to the Guardian mentally, but he heard nothing, or pretended to…
“Shall we make a pentacle?” Roman suggested calmly, not reacting to the cry of my soul.
“Not at this stage,” I said sadly. “First, let’s launch your Wish Program with a magic wand. The standard launch period for any program is 21 days, so by the 40th night we’ll have time to make you… the Sun…”
Task No. 20. LAUNCHING the PROGRAM
…A magic wand is an important attribute of the Magician…
It can be a pen, ordinary or fountain pen, a pointer, a tree branch, the material carrier is not so important, it must attract the Magician and obey him.
The Magician transmits to the magic wand the power of his intention (thought + energy-will), being absolutely confident both in the wand itself and in the reality of miracles.
Read each item of the Wishing List, in parallel drawing symbols of these wishes with your magic wand in the air (the key is good for the apartment, the heart is love, and so on) … give them some shape and color, mentally breathe life into them.
Visualize yourself in your happy future, i.e. inside the Happy Universe you have already drawn, with your wishes already fulfilled. Imagine what objects and smells surround you in it, mentally pronounce the implementation period, during which you get the result.
Launch air symbols into the Space of Options, pushing them by your thoughts. This way you start a chain of events, unknown to you, however, it will be working by itself, because it has a Point of Beginning, a launched symbol, and a Point of Fulfillment — visualization of the result.
Leave the rest to the discretion of the Higher Forces.
This exercise is repeated daily for 21 days. Then the material carrier of the Wishing List is hidden far away and for a long time (in the farthest corner of the mezzanine), and the immaterial one is transferred from the Consciousness to the Subconscious, which carries out the transformation of reality, completing the missing links of the chain.
***
“Wanderer, excuse me, may I ask you an immodest question?”
“Of course, Alice djan…”
“How did you end up in the Dungeon? Well-uh, when we met.”
“I’m wandering the world, visiting mysterious places with anomalies, portals, the Places of Power.”
“How long?”
“All my life…”
“I would like to travel to the Places of Power as well, but it requires a lot of money…”
“Alice djan… I don’t need money to travel!”
“Are you a ghost?”
“No, just a shaman. I’m travelling in trance!”
“Excuse me… What do you think, am I a ghost?”
“The whole world is ghostly, dear Alice. Sometimes it’s not even clear who are more ghostly, people or their shadows. Oh, you smell of pine needles again! What can I do to comfort you in your melancholy? What happened? I hope it has nothing to do with that story about the gloves?”
“No, no… it’s okay, but maybe… I don’t cast a shadow…”
“Can’t you see your shadow?”
“The camera doesn’t see it.”
“What a trifle! After all, you exist! And so do I! Then, everything is not so bad, dear Alice djan!”
“Thank you, Wanderer, for existing,” I wrote him, and I was about to cry into my pillow when I remembered… my magic wand!