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"They've set wards against us spirits," Toni warned him in her seagull voice, but he wasn't sure what she
was talking about. He wanted to reach Chime, to reassure her that he was okay.
He drifted a little lower and suddenly found his wingtip snared, and the more he struggled, the more of
his form followed it, until something sucked him into a small, dense space, smaller than a grave, close and
bad-smelling.
Overhead, Toni-Marie circled and flapped, mewing, "I told you so," and then he heard no more.
"Hello there," Chime called out to the head as she waded through the cesspool. "My name is Chime
Cincinnati and I am the present incarnation of the Terton of Shambala. I'm here to lead you and other
living beings to the safety of Kalapa."
"Ten thousand welcomes," the bald head said. It rose above the flowers to reveal that beneath it was a
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tall, elegant old man dressed in a woolen robe trimmed with fur and brilliant embroidery. Fur boots
covered his feet and were bound with braided ropes of black and, surprisingly, silver shoelaces. "Ten
thousand times ten thousand welcomes. From far away, for many days, I have felt your emanations, holy
one. But I scarcely dared to think you would honor us with your presence so soon. Come, rest in our
valley, teach us, learn from us and enjoy the company of our remarkable community."
"Thank you," she said. "How far does your cesspool extend? Can you direct me to the shortest and least
messy route out of it?"
"Perhaps you could levitate from it, Rimpoche?" he suggested, calling her by the honorific "precious one"
accorded to great lamas."Unless perhaps you do not wish to squander your psychic powers to solve
such an earthly problem."
"I don't know," she said. "I have not yet tried levitation-not in my present body at least. But you're right,
of course. I'm sure it must be more difficult with such earthly stuff binding one's feet to the material
world."
"In thatcase, kindly accept my humble assistance," he said, extending a staff to her. She pulled herself
along it until she stood once more on solid ground.
"Come to the lake to wipe away the worst of the muck," he suggested. "But it is much too cold to bathe
in. For that you must come to the hermitage with me and we will see that you have a proper hot shower."
"That's very kind," she said. "I expect the lake water must also be tainted with radioactivity."
"Perhaps it would have been any other place, or someplace not under my protection," he said, striding
gracefully beside her. "But I have developed through my own practice a few skills which enable me to
purify that which we need and make it wholesome."
When they reached the shores of the lake, the man sat down on the bank and Chime sat down beside
him, stripped off her boots and opened her pack, pulling out the cap, the mittens, the spirit trap, and six
cans of Spam in her search for something to clean her boots with.
"You won't need that here," he said, indicating the spirit trap. "We have excellent wards against the
dead."
"I understand the need for it," she said, "But I find it very sad. They are so lost. I am worried for
Meekay-my companion who came with me from Shambala. He was killed a day ago. I have not yet
found his spirit, and I think it still wanders the bardo. If this place is warded against him, then I mustn't
stay long. He will be frightened and alone."
"The spirits of the dead roam outside our valley in great numbers. Surely your friend will have
companionship," the man said. He turned and she felt compelled to stop rummaging and look into his
eyes. They were very beautiful eyes, not dark brown, like the eyes of most people with such an Asian
cast to their features, but warm amber, like honey or golden coins. For their light color, they had
surprising depth. The eyes held her gaze for a very long time, searching her face. "We need you here,
among the living," he said, pressing his hands over the cleaner of hers.
She smiled at him, a little uncertainly. He was an imposing man, much taller than most Asians, slender,
his features so finely molded that his baldness served only to accent the height and angle of his
cheekbones, the strength of his jaw, the tilt of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils. His lips were well
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drawn but deeply cushioned and sensual-looking. All of this belied the impression that this man had lived
many years-his skin was so tightly molded to his features and bones that there were few wrinkles, little
sign of looseness. Only the silver brows and lashes crowning his golden eyes, and the porcelain
translucence of his skin, betrayed his years.
He continued gazing at her as if he wanted to know and understand everything she could possibly tell
him about herself. But she didn't want to talk about herself at themoment, she wanted him to enlist his
sympathy for Meekay and the ghosts. This man had an aura of power about him that could be very
helpful to her mission.
"Meekay is a Shambala being and can only reincarnate in Shambala, and to return there he must
accompany me, since I am the Terton. The other ghosts are searching for any living form to occupy, and
they are mostly very angry and very lost. Like Meekay, they were deprived of their lives suddenly and
violently, but he died defending me, while their deaths were needless and senseless, as is their anger." She
shuddered, remembering the ghosts on the mountain before Vajra had come to help them.
"Such all-encompassing compassion and sensitivity!" he said admiringly. "You are indeed the very
incarnation of Tara the merciful goddess. But we have the living to think of here. My dear, from your
youthful appearance, I'd say you haven't been in this incarnation long, am I right?"
She nodded.
"Please accept then this word of advice. Even for a saint, there are limits to what can be done for
people. You'll lose your serenity trying to take care of everyone."
"Whereis everyone?" Chime asked.
"Why, they're waiting in the palace. Can you not see them?"
"Is that the palace over there?" she asked, pointing to the building.
"Yes, do you see them?"
"Not really."
"You're not supposed to see them 'really.' Come now, you're only looking with your water eye. You
must look for them with your flesh eye, with which the enlightened may see things eighteen days' walk
distant." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]