Dagger Magic

Dorje reached out and plucked a tile from the midst of the pile. Turning it face-up, he placed it on the floor next to the crystal pyramid. While the old monk looked on, he chose a second tile, overturning it with a flick of his wrist and setting it directly opposite the first, on the other side of the crystal. A further six tiles were added in turn, arranged in opposing pairs so as to leave an octagonal space at the center of the configuration - the pattern known to practitioners of this form of divination as The Lotus Wheel. When all eight tiles were in place, Lutzen leaned in to scan the array of symbols displayed there. After prolonged consideration, he drew a deep breath and began to expound, tracing lines of association as he did so.

"The Stranger and the Fortress," he intoned. "Taken together, they point to a man outside our immediate fellowship, yet sometimes under our protection. The Gambler - here - indicates one who is both ambitious and desirous of material wealth. The companion symbol, however, is the Broken Ox Cart, signifying a recent reversal in fortunes."

Dorje's blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "An interesting combination. The man we require evidently has prior associations with this order. It would appear that he is someone who has tasted disappointment in the not-so-distant past. So much the better if his fortunes need mending. If he is hungry, he will rise the more readily to any bait we offer him. Continue."

Lutzen bent his gaze on the pattern again. "As for the formative elements of the future, we have first the Serpent and then the Hunter. These symbols denote agencies in opposition. The Serpent is guileful and defends itself with venom. The Hunter, for his part, is a reader of signs and a tireless pursuer. These two elements can never be reconciled. I read the interference of a longtime adversary who must be killed if he cannot be eluded."

This revelation drew a frown from Dorje. "An inauspicious complication. What of the remaining signs?"

Lutzen returned his attention to the Lotus Wheel. "Success is denoted by the Fruitful Vine. But it is paired with the sign of the Fool, indicating random influences at work. Whether those influences will manifest themselves as a person, an object, or an event is beyond my ability to determine. All that can be said at this time is that a successful outcome to this venture is probable, but not certain."

"Then we must proceed with great caution," Dorje said. "Until this enterprise is safely concluded, nothing must be left to chance. In the meantime," he continued, "there is still this morning's work to be completed. Let us see what final sign the oracle will show us."

Dorje bowed his head over the pattern of tiles on the floor and focused his eyes on the crystal pyramid at its center. His breathing slowed, and with it his heart rate, as he lapsed into trance with the ease of long practice. The meditation room, with its gilded hangings and jewelled mosaic ceiling, faded into obscurity. The pyramid correspondingly seemed to expand to fill his vision, blotting out everything else until he could see nothing but the cone-shaped crystal.

As he continued to gaze fixedly at the pyramid, a point of light appeared at its apex. Dorje narrowed his concentration so that it centered on that light. As he did so, he was drawn out of himself toward the point of illumination. At the instant of contact, the light blossomed round him, leaving him floating in the midst of what seemed to be a large, well-appointed library.

Sunlight was flooding into the room through a lofty set of windows, their roundel arches set with Moorish tiles. The light pooled brightly around a large, ornately finished desk in the center of the floor. Seated at the desk was a tall, slender man in a dark suit of impeccable cut. His interest quickening, Dorje moved closer in spirit to take note of the face.

The man at the desk looked to be slightly younger than Dorje himself, with silky fair hair going thin at the top and brushed back at the sides. The pale features were almost ruthlessly refined, the light grey eyes fixed in utter absorption on an age-worn manuscript written in Arabic. One well-manicured finger traced the lines of writing with possessive care.

Another time, Dorje might have taken an interest in the manuscript. At this moment, however, he was far more concerned with the identity of the reader - for the face was one Dorje knew well.

Grimly satisfied, he relaxed his grip on the image before him and allowed himself to be drawn back to his corporeal body. After a blurring of his inner senses came a slight, dizzying jolt. Dorje allowed the momentary sensation of vertigo to subside before opening his eyes. Lutzen was watching him closely.

"I have been shown the face of the man who is to carry out our mission," Dorje informed the elderly monk, allowing himself a thin smile. "It is none other than our own Gyatso, who calls himself Francis Raeburn."