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

shall be so, Adam replied, with a deep bow .
    Between one heartbeat and the next, the enfolding presence simply was not there any longer. The Chamber of Records wavered around Adam and then disappeared, and he arrowed back toward the material world. The slight disorientation of soul-flight ended with the faint psychic jolt that signaled the spirit’s reunion with matter. When Adam opened his eyes, swaying a little on his feet, he was standing once again in the familiar library at Strathmourne, hands resting on the back of the chair where Peregrine Lovat slept. Details of what had just transpired grew more hazy by the second, but a clear plan of action lay before him now.
    Almost perfunctorily, he brought his palms together in salute to the Light, the touch of his fingertips to his lips closing and sealing the rite he had just performed. Then he came around in front of Peregrine’s chair, settling fully back into his role as physician and teacher.
    The younger man was as Adam had left him, head tilted back in the angle of the wing-backed chair, eyes closed, After blowing out the candle, Adam bent to touch Peregrine’s wrist lightly in pre-arranged signal.
    “Peregrine, listen to my voice,” he said firmly, no longer uncertain of his way, “Can you hear what I am saying?”
    The younger man’s lips parted slightly, in a scarcely breathed, “Yes.”
    “Excellent,” Adam said. “In a moment, I am going to ask you to return to waking consciousness. Before I do that, however, there is something you should know, even though it may be some time before you arrive at a full understanding of what I am about to tell you.”
    He settled carefully back into his chair, watching the other man closely.
    “It is a fact, though I cannot prove it to you in any rational, scientific manner, that an individual’s personal history often goes back beyond the boundaries of his present lifetime. I have reason to believe that the vision which you have been at pains to suppress since childhood is actually a valuable legacy from earlier stages of your development. And there is no doubt that you can control it—provided that you acknowledge the gift for what it is.”
    Vague hope stirred the trembling eyelids as Peregrine’s lips moved soundlessly to frame a single word.
    “How?”
    “First,” Adam said, “you must learn to sort out the different kinds of information that, up until now, have been coming in uncontrolled. In a word, you must learn to focus your talent, and to turn it on and off when you decide—not just when it happens. The techniques for doing this already exist in your own subconscious mind, but they are buried. They can be retrieved through dreams. I should like to leave you with a posthypnotic suggestion to strengthen your ability to remember those dreams. Do you agree?”
    Peregrine nodded his acceptance.
    “Very good. Then, you will accept that suggestion, and know that you will dream the knowledge that will set you free. You will dream it as you are ready to receive it, and you will remember what you dream.”
    “Yes,” Peregrine whispered, his head nodding slightly.
    After a slight pause, Adam also nodded.
    “Now, in a very few minutes, you are going to wake up of your own accord. At that time you will have no conscious memory of the conversation that has just passed between us. However, the ideas themselves will filter through to you in the course of the next few nights, couched in dreams that you will remember very clearly. I want you to record any dream that should happen to come to you—write it down, or make a sketch, if that suits you better—and then we’ll talk about it at the first opportunity. Will you do that for me?”
    “Yes,” came the whispered response,
    “Very good. Now in addition, because looking at people with your artist’s eye seems to be what triggers your vision, I’m going to suggest that you not set out to draw anything for several days, other than in connection with your