you.”
“I’m sure she was right. The therapeutic value has probably been stamped into the genetic matrix by now.”
Maggie relaxed a little, there was something lovable about the woman. Ellie poured out two steaming cups of black tea, offered cream and sugar with the skill of a dowager, then settled back in her chair.
“Now, spill the beans. Why the interest in Black Magic? Are you a researcher of some kind? Or just your average satanic thrill seeker?”
Maggie couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s a bizarre story, actually, all of which sounds crazy. But my grandchild is in a strange, dangerous situation—and somebody suggested to me it might have something to do with Satanism. So, I figured I better find out what I’m up against. Before today, I thought it was a subject fit only for those newspapers you look at on the supermarket checkout line. Now I’m really scared.”
“I see,” Ellie said judiciously. “Maybe you’d better give me a few specifics so I can advise you properly. I really do know what I’m talking about.”
Maggie hesitated then plunged in. She’d always been a decent judge of character, and it would help to talk with an expert.
Ellie listened carefully. “It’s a good thing you’re talking to me, Maggie,” she said with great seriousness. “Satanism is nothing to mess with. It’s a lot bigger and better organized than you could possibly imagine. Magic, White or Black, can be a very potent force—one you’d damn well better learn about, if you’re going to try to fight it. Believe me, I know a lot about this, and not just from this ditzy little lifetime, either. A Black Magician of High Degree, say a Magister Templi, or God forbid, an Ipsissimmus, could attack you on the Astral Plane while you sleep, Maggie. Or he could pit the energies of the whole Black Coven against you. Even if he didn’t kill you, which he might, you’d go mad as a hatter. There are thousands of people in lunatic asylums for no other reason than that they pissed off a Black Magician, with or without knowing it.”
Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say. This is all so far beyond me . . .”
Ellie looked speculatively at Maggie. “Generally speaking, people don’t find themselves touched by magic unless they’ve practiced it in other lifetimes . . .you may find you know more than you think. Your soul is probably trying to remember what you already know, so you can fight off this current danger. Maybe you should try some past-life regressions, to see what it’s all about, and where we’ve met before.”
“What do you mean, where we’ve met before.”
“There are no accidents in the Universe, Maggie. You didn’t walk in here today, by chance . . . odds are you were drawn here by your need for something . . . an ally, maybe. Look. Why don’t you go home, finish these books, and then let’s talk some more.
“I’ll need to do some meditating on the story you’ve told me, too, of course. I mean, I don’t go running around looking for ways to put my astral ass in a sling for strangers . . . but, then, what if you turn out not to be one? Tell you what . . . why don’t you come back for dinner at my place tonight and we’ll see if we can’t figure things out.”
Ellie handed her several more books to read, and Maggie went home mind-boggled that there could be so much information about a subject she barely knew existed.
ELLIE climbed up the small step stool she used to reach books on the top shelves of her library, and passed two down to Maggie. Her apartment was high-ceilinged and full of prewar Village charm.
“This is a fabulous apartment, Ellie,” Maggie said admiringly. “It’s like a sea captain’s house . . . full of exotic treasures.”
“God bless rent control,” Ellie responded. “How could I ever afford a two-bedroom apartment with fireplaces, if it weren’t for rent control? As
“I’m sure she was right. The therapeutic value has probably been stamped into the genetic matrix by now.”
Maggie relaxed a little, there was something lovable about the woman. Ellie poured out two steaming cups of black tea, offered cream and sugar with the skill of a dowager, then settled back in her chair.
“Now, spill the beans. Why the interest in Black Magic? Are you a researcher of some kind? Or just your average satanic thrill seeker?”
Maggie couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s a bizarre story, actually, all of which sounds crazy. But my grandchild is in a strange, dangerous situation—and somebody suggested to me it might have something to do with Satanism. So, I figured I better find out what I’m up against. Before today, I thought it was a subject fit only for those newspapers you look at on the supermarket checkout line. Now I’m really scared.”
“I see,” Ellie said judiciously. “Maybe you’d better give me a few specifics so I can advise you properly. I really do know what I’m talking about.”
Maggie hesitated then plunged in. She’d always been a decent judge of character, and it would help to talk with an expert.
Ellie listened carefully. “It’s a good thing you’re talking to me, Maggie,” she said with great seriousness. “Satanism is nothing to mess with. It’s a lot bigger and better organized than you could possibly imagine. Magic, White or Black, can be a very potent force—one you’d damn well better learn about, if you’re going to try to fight it. Believe me, I know a lot about this, and not just from this ditzy little lifetime, either. A Black Magician of High Degree, say a Magister Templi, or God forbid, an Ipsissimmus, could attack you on the Astral Plane while you sleep, Maggie. Or he could pit the energies of the whole Black Coven against you. Even if he didn’t kill you, which he might, you’d go mad as a hatter. There are thousands of people in lunatic asylums for no other reason than that they pissed off a Black Magician, with or without knowing it.”
Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say. This is all so far beyond me . . .”
Ellie looked speculatively at Maggie. “Generally speaking, people don’t find themselves touched by magic unless they’ve practiced it in other lifetimes . . .you may find you know more than you think. Your soul is probably trying to remember what you already know, so you can fight off this current danger. Maybe you should try some past-life regressions, to see what it’s all about, and where we’ve met before.”
“What do you mean, where we’ve met before.”
“There are no accidents in the Universe, Maggie. You didn’t walk in here today, by chance . . . odds are you were drawn here by your need for something . . . an ally, maybe. Look. Why don’t you go home, finish these books, and then let’s talk some more.
“I’ll need to do some meditating on the story you’ve told me, too, of course. I mean, I don’t go running around looking for ways to put my astral ass in a sling for strangers . . . but, then, what if you turn out not to be one? Tell you what . . . why don’t you come back for dinner at my place tonight and we’ll see if we can’t figure things out.”
Ellie handed her several more books to read, and Maggie went home mind-boggled that there could be so much information about a subject she barely knew existed.
ELLIE climbed up the small step stool she used to reach books on the top shelves of her library, and passed two down to Maggie. Her apartment was high-ceilinged and full of prewar Village charm.
“This is a fabulous apartment, Ellie,” Maggie said admiringly. “It’s like a sea captain’s house . . . full of exotic treasures.”
“God bless rent control,” Ellie responded. “How could I ever afford a two-bedroom apartment with fireplaces, if it weren’t for rent control? As
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