Death of an Adept

Harry made a gesture of mock surrender. "I can see you've thought this whole thing through pretty thoroughly. Well, I did come here to try to help. AH right, let's get on with it."

While Peregrine retrieved pencils and a pad from his sketch box, Adam moved the tin from the table beside him to a smaller one he set in front of Harry. As he took off the lid and set it aside, Harry leaned closer to take a cautious look inside, recoiling briefly from the smell.

"Whew! But I guess it Li a dead hand, isn't it?" he remarked with a grimace. He looked at it again, but his reluctance to touch the Hand was manifest.

"Take all the time you want," Adam said quietly. "Peregrine and I will be ready when you are."

"Easy for you to say," Harry muttered darkly. "Very well, here goes."

He drew a deep breath and extended his right hand over the tin, flexing his fingers and then reaching downward. The instant of contact brought a gasp to his lips as his hand jerked back almost of its own volition. With a muttered imprecation, he gave it a violent shake, as if he'd been stung by a scorpion.

"Did you see anything?" Adam asked.

Harry shook his head.

"But you felt something," Adam said.

"Aye, but I may just have been scaring myself," Harry allowed. "I'll try again."

While Adam and Peregrine looked on, he reached into the tin a second time, only to recoil even more violently. A third attempt provoked an equally strong reaction, and left him trembling.

"If you aren't seeing anything, what are you feeling?" Adam prompted quietly. "Focus on it, Harry. Tell me what you feel."

The response from Harry was a shiver, and his eyes had gone a little glazed.

"C-cold… icy cold…" he mumbled thickly. "Can't… seem… to breathe - ''

As Harry gasped - a choked, strangled sound - Adam suddenly realized that he must be fastening on some residual resonance, not from those who had prepared the Hand but from the hand's owner, who would have died by hanging. Swiftly he reached out and gripped the counsellor firmly by the arm.

"Stop, Harry! Let it go!" he ordered.

Harry breathed out explosively and shuddered, then looked up shakily at Adam. Sucking in a lungful of air, he passed his free hand across his eyes.

"Whew. Thanks. I - ah - don't know what that was all about, but it doesn't seem to be getting us anywhere. Any suggestions?"

"Yes," Adam said thoughtfully. It had not occurred to him that Harry's sensibilities would be acute enough to penetrate past the veil of dark empowerments which had been used to make the Hand what it was. Impressed by this evidence of Harry's potential, he said, "I think we might get better results if you'll consent to let me put you into a trance."

Harry blinked. "That's right, you're a shrink. You want to hypnotize me?"

"I do," Adam said. "Does that prospect frighten you?"

"No, no," Harry murmured, stabbing a finger at the Hand. "That frightens me. I know Noel was using a bit of hypnosis when he worked with me - and it did help." He managed a pallid grin. "I suppose he learned it from you."

"I suppose he did," Adam agreed, smiling faintly.

"Let's do it, then," Harry said. "We sure aren't getting anywhere with what we've been doing so far."

"Very well," Adam replied. "Then, suppose you close your eyes and settle back. Make yourself comfortable. Let yourself relax, and take a deep breath…."

The counsellor proved an apt subject, sinking into trance with the ease of a child falling asleep. Adam spent a few minutes deepening the trance, observing his subject's reactions and reinforcing a series of suggestions he layered into place, then set fingertips to the pulse in Harry's wrist.

"I think he's probably already captured what he needs," Adam murmured aside to Peregrine. "It may be that all we need to do now is help him get at it and sort the imagery. Harry, you're doing very well indeed. Do you feel ready for another go?"

Harry's head bobbed up and down.

"Very good. Now, listen closely to my voice and do exactly as I tell you to do. Visualize the Hand. See it in your mind's eye. If you think back, you'll remember that I asked you earlier to touch it. I won't ask you to do that again, but I want you to call to mind the impressions you experienced during those brief moments of contact. Cast your mind back, and feel yourself touching the Hand again. Hold those impressions in your mind's eye and tell me what you see."

Harry's face tightened. "Shadows," he mumbled. "I see a dirty ball of shadows."

"That's a good image," Adam said. "Think of that ball as an onion. Think of the shadows as layers of onion skin. Imagine yourself peeling away the outermost layer. If you hold that layer up to the light, you'll find that you can look through it like a windowpane. On the other side of the pane are the ones who made the shadows, the ones you're trying to discern."

For a long moment, Harry did not respond. Watching him closely, Adam could see rapid eye movements beneath the veil of his closed eyelids. Then his lips twitched.

"I see them!" he breathed.