Free The Adept by Katherine Kurtz, Deborah Turner Harris Page A

thread that linked the many lives of the one now known as Peregrine Lovat.
    He skimmed over the early material, searching for the key—that initial moment of awakening, the point at which the soul first encountered its own spiritual likeness minored in the greater soul of the Divine Light. For Peregrine Lovat, that epiphany had taken place at Delphi in the age of Pericles. The oracular gift bestowed at that instant of enlightenment was what made itself known now, as the gift of seeing. Not to many was such vision given; and to endure the gift, its use—and disuse—must be mastered. Such would be the task of Peregrine Lovat—and of Adam, to teach him.
    So. The soul that now was Adam Sinclair bore witness to the mandate: to make of a potential curse a gift, a tool for his own further spiritual advancement and in the service of the Light—for Peregrine had made that unreserved dedication to service before. It remained but to reawaken him in this life—a task which Adam, as a healer of souls as well as of minds, had performed before.
    But as he closed the book, preparing to go, light darted from roof to floor to roof again in quicksilver flashes too swift for the eye to follow, lively as summer lightning. The signature was unique, portending the imminent arrival of one of those to whom Adam answered on the Inner Planes.
    Stilling his curiosity, for he had not asked for audience, Adam acknowledged the authority of One who had long ago progressed beyond the need to manifest in physical form, bowing his head and opening his hands at his sides in a posture of receptivity. The other manifested in a beam of pure white light that pooled momentarily on the floor of the dais beneath Adam’s feet and then surged up and around to envelope him in a shimmering pillar of opalescent fire.
    Restive forces brood at the edge of the Abyss, Master of the Hunt, came the unexpected warning . Do you seek our help?
    The question startled Adam, for he had perceived no threat requiring his attention. He had been functioning in his capacity as a physician of souls tonight, not as a cosmic keeper of the peace.
    No, Master. I have come on an errand of mercy, as a healer of souls.
    Explain.
    It is written that all pilgrim souls must enter the world as children, and that so long as the personality is immature, the intellect untrained, even an Adept may be kept from achieving his full potential. There is such a one come to me—an Adept, I find, of rare gifts—who has been crippled, half-broken in childhood, before mind and intellect had sufficiently matured to protect the indwelling spirit, I believe his destiny may lie within, the mandate of my mission, but the fledgling hawk must be re-pinioned, before he is ready to rejoin the Hunt. I would help him learn to fly again, that the potential of his gifts may be regained.
    The desire is worthy, came the response, but you should know that opposition threatens, and a risk is involved.
    What opposition, and what risk?
    The Veil obscures details, even from us, but a threat exists. You will be a focus, though even the opposition will not know it for some time.
    I am not afraid to face this threat, Adam replied. But, is the fledgling to become an ally, then? How, if I can neutralize the self-doubt that cripples him, so that his potential is released? May he take his rightful place before the Light?
    He may. If the fledgling proves steadfast, you have authority to receive him; but this is by no means fore ordained. Do you accept the commission to rehabilitate this soul?
    The question bore of no answer but one.
    My office as physician in the Outer was not lightly undertaken, Master. Nor do I take lightly my vows on the Inner, as a sentinel of the Light. I see the spark in Peregrine Lovat—a spark too bright to be wasted in aimless wandering, when it could be directed to Service. I accept the commission.
    So be it, then, Master of the Hunt. But tread softly, lest he and you should plummet into the Abyss.
    It