Page 149 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“That’s just the problem, Cass. You’ve got to be able to. Again. And this time, try to feel the moment I sneak into that part of your mind.”
I thought again, and her answer was just as quick.
“Six. Were you not even trying?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean by that ‘part’ of my mind.”
Caitlin scratched her chin, considering. “I don’t suppose we’ll be able to skip it after all.”
She stood and walked to the kitchen, where she began opening and closing cabinets and checking the oven and the ancient refrigerator to make sure they worked.
“What are you doing?” I twisted around to watch.
“The Buddhists have a type of meditation calledvipassana.” She removed a Dutch oven bearing rust stains on its belly from one cabinet and took off the lid to inspect the interior before settling it on the stovetop. “It means clear-seeing. Have you heard of it?”
“Yes. Lots of yoga types on the West Coast.”
Caitlin stuck her nose into another old pot and pulled it out immediately with a grimace. “That’ll have to be boiled to death.”
She set the pot on the counter and resumed her rooting. By the time she was finished, she located a cast iron skillet and saucepan, both equally rusted, and set them on the table before sitting down again.
“We’ll have to re-season those, but they should work fine. As forvipassana, it’s a meditation practice where you consider your breath, think about impermanence, and eventually come to see the true reality of the world and yourself in it. Rob says many practice in complete silence.” She shrugged. “I don’t know about all the religion that goes with it, but when he described it, it sounded a lot like the training all young seers begin with. I didit, Penny did it, and my girls’ll do it too when they apprentice to other seers.”
“There are others?” I perked up curiously. I had never known seers to live in close communities.
“There’s a telepath on Inis Meáin, and a talented bard in Leitir Mealláin. The twins will go to them when they come of age.”
“And do what?” I asked, tracing my finger along the edge of the pan, hoping to pick up a spare memory of Gran. All I got was a bit of char on my finger pad. “Meditate?”
“To start,” Caitlin confirmed. “I was set in an abandoned cottage, much like this one, for almost a month until I came to understand every crevice of my mind. As seers, we’re so used to reading people that we forget to See what’s closest to us.”
She placed her hand atop my knuckles, allowing the gravity of what she was trying to say to flow evenly through our touch. I stilled. She really could see every nook and cranny of my consciousness. I stood no chance against her.
“That’s because you can’t protect what you don’t know.”
Our eyes met, and her statement echoed through our touch for another few seconds before she finally let go. Outside, the sounds of gulls crying on the shore took over the space between us.
I looked at the assorted pans. “So…you’re going to leave me here for a month? With a bunch of rusty cookware?”
“Oh, no,” she said, waving the idea away as if it were a bit of smoke. “We don’t have that kind of time. You’ll have a week, starting tomorrow. But I’ve faith in you—you’ll likely have more focus than a girl of thirteen. I’ll have Robbie bring enough food and drink to last the week. All you have to do is stay here. Think. Listen. No talking. No noise of your own.” She leaned closer. “And most important: no saining.”
I gulped. No saining? That meant no sanity.
Before I could ask exactly how I was supposed to deal with that, we were interrupted by another voice—one we both could hear.
“Hello, the house!”
Caitlin broke into a bright smile at the sound of Jonathan’s approach. “Say your goodbyes. And then, it’s time.”
44
CAUGHT
Despair creates a rival for our fears
And tender pity softens into tears.
— JAMES DELACOUR, “HOW LOVE WAS BORN”
