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Authors: Mike Crowson

BOOK: Witchmoor Edge
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"The experiments into dreams conducted by
Rhine University and some of the experiments of the Stanford
Research Institute arising from Remote Viewing both imply without
much doubt that what one might call future dreams are possible. The
fourth possibility is that these symbols were a dream insight into
what we now know to be reality."

N'Dibe downed the last of his drink and
added, "There you have it. Four absurd explanations for this
phenomenon. These phenomena, I should say," he said, hastily
correcting his usually impeccably correct grammar. "I am interested
in knowing which you think the most likely and why."

Millicent frowned in thought and tapped her
fingers absently on the arm of the chair.

"Well," she said, "I think the least likely
is mere chance. I have a scientific background which is sufficient
to tell that the odds against chance are huge." She paused, still
drumming her fingers.

"I can't really accept the idea of future
memories, at least, not on that timescale." Millicent continued.
"That leaves lost civilisations and synchronicity. I think both
sound plausible but I'll go for lost civilisations, simply because
I don't know enough quantum physics to consider the alternative.
Which do you think?"

N'Dibe did not answer, instead he observed
obscurely, "According to the Tibetan Book of the Dead, the physical
world is a dream and we must each go on living life after life,
until we discover how to awaken. This brings us neatly to the
nature of events tomorrow night."

"I wondered when we'd come to that,"
Millicent said.

"You will need a magical name or motto, by
which you will always be known within the temple," Judith said.
"What do you feel sums up your intentions for yourself?"

"I see all but control myself," Millicent
said. "Something like that."

"Video omniam sed me coerceo," Judith
said.

"She's very good at Latin," N'Dibe remarked.
"And her Greek, Hebrew and Coptic are not too bad either. I believe
she's correct, by the way. but she manages to make everything sound
impressive."

"She does," Millicent agreed. "Now, about
tomorrow?"

"The first step is as a neophyte," N'Dibe
said. "If you find that it is not for you and you drop out, there
is no harm done. The next steps are the four elemental initiations
- earth, air, water and fire, in that order. I strongly suggest
that, once you take the first, you take all four. If you do not you
may be forever slightly out of balance. Even if you decide after
one or two that this path is not for you, I would urge you to stay
on and take them all."

Millicent nodded. "Shall I refill the glasses
before we get down to details?" she asked.

"That's a nice idea," Judith said.

"Yes indeed," NDibe added.

* * *

Haworth High Street is a much painted, steep
and cobbled, pedestrianised living museum and considerable tourist
attraction. In summer it looks like a picture post card of itself.
Tommy thought it could be very different on a chill and rainy
November evening, though. He'd seen it on such a day and considered
it not at all surprising that Branwell Bronte had drunk himself to
death or the sisters written novels - there was damn all else to do
in the place in winter but drink or write, and if you didn't have
the talent to write ...

 

Francesca looked lovely. They were sitting at
a table outside the Three Sisters restaurant and she was wearing a
head turning, figure flattering, off-white top and loose white
trousers. In the valley a steam train on the Worth Valley railway
chuffed smoke and steam, though one couldn't see the train
itself.

"I was able to get away in good time," Tommy
remarked into the interval between main course and dessert. "I
can't always," he added, swallowing hard. "Being a detective can be
a demanding job. Any police job can be."

Francesca did not appear either surprised or
put out. "You're a detective at Witchmoor Edge?" she asked, but in
such a way that implied she already knew the answer.

"Yes," Tommy answered. "Why?"

"Nothing really, except I think I know your
boss."

"Detective Inspector Hampshire or Chief
Inspector Cooke?"

"Millicent Hampshire. A very interesting
lady. Extremely good at dowsing."

Tommy was stunned, but he didn't want to talk
about Millicent or work. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he
asked.

"Filling in as a waitress in one of our
restaurants."

Tommy's face fell: he was aware that the
Sapori family had their money in a chain of restaurants, but it
sounded like a brush off.

Francesca laughed chidingly. "Actually, I'm
free all day," she said, "I will be tied up in the evening. A
meeting which will involve your Inspector. All day though, I'm free
and I'd really like to go somewhere with you. Where do you suggest
we go?"

"I thought we might drive up the dales
somewhere."

"Stump Cross Caverns," said Francesca. "I
have wanted to visit the caves for a while."

"Your wish is my command, as long as I'm off
duty," Tommy said, and Francesca Sapori laughed.

 

 

 

Chapter 16: Sunday 19th August
(Evening)

 

 

Standing in the anteroom Millicent could smell the
incense and it took her back to her early childhood in Northern
Ireland, before they'd been forced to come to Bradford. Her mother
had been a Catholic, but once they'd been obliged to come to
England, she hadn't gone to church again. All the same, it was a
pleasant scent and it took her back to the strife-torn streets of
Belfast, the religious bigotry and the racial tension that had
threatened to drive a wedge between her parents.

In the silence of waiting she had nothing to do but
think and, though she tried to prepare herself for what was to
come, her thoughts were centred on what had passed: her parents had
run to Bradford; when she met Carlos in her pre-university gap year
in Spain she had been relieved to run to Andelucia; when Carlos had
been killed by the ETA car bomb she had run again, leaving her
daughter behind in Seville to be brought up by Carlos's parents.
Had she run from the army to West Yorkshire police? Undoubtedly -
she was running from her 'demons'. She thought that now she would
confront them.

 

Tobias had brought her here - here being a converted
church in a Bradford back street. It was a small, stone built
former Methodist chapel, a yellowish sandstone, blackened by the
grime of years. There was wire mesh over the windows and an air of
neglect about the exterior. As N'Dibe had remarked earlier, if you
clean it up and make it look prosperous, any building then needs
much more spending on security.

Inside, however, there was no air of neglect. There
was a small modern kitchen and toilets, changing rooms, a
comfortable, carpeted lobby, which was also a meeting place
adjoining the hall in which the real business of the order was
conducted.

She had waited in the lobby until the group had all
entered the main body of the temple. Then she had been allowed into
this anteroom and given a plain black robe, tied at the waist with
a black cord. The only other person was a similarly dressed man,
tall and thin, wearing a collar of office in about three inches
wide black material, not quite waist length, with a silver sword
insignia about four inches long hanging from it.

"I'm the Guardian," he said, "and strictly speaking
I'm supposed to wear a mask until after you've given a pledge of
confidentiality. It all looks a bit off-putting to a neophyte and
my job isn't threatened by you knowing about my free-time
activities, because I'm self-employed anyway, so I don't
bother."

He didn't say what he was self-employed as, and
Millicent thought it might not be entirely proper to ask him. Nor
did the man volunteer his name, and Millicent thought she'd better
not ask that either. Apart from that, she remembered the discussion
of magical names and mottos from Saturday evening.

Through the door she could hear muffled voices, but
she could make out no words. She heard three knocks and then a
series of words and knocks.

"They've opened," the Guardian said. "In a moment I
have to blindfold you. It's partly because you're not supposed see
other members until you've taken a pledge of confidentiality and
partly because the blindfold itself and the act of ritually
removing ritually removing it are symbolic, but I won't spoil it by
telling you what they're symbolic of."

The door opened a crack, a female voice whispered
"Ready!" and the door closed. The Guardian knocked, and the door
opened.

"Whom have you there?" the same female voice demanded
clearly.

"An aspirant in the darkness seeks the light," the
Guardian said.

"Wait while I report to the Soror Initiator."

The door closed and the Guardian tied a blindfold
over Millicent's eyes.

"There is a symbolism connected with this," he said,
"but personally I think the custom probably goes back to a time and
place when it was dangerous to belong to a group such as ours, and
members protected themselves from a newcomer until they were
certain of him or her."

Millicent heard the door open and she felt her arm
grasped firmly. She walked through the door, into the main hall and
immediately felt the difference. In part it was the lack of light
and in part it was the scent of incense, but it was more than that.
There was a tension in the atmosphere, as if she was surrounded by
100s of people. Or perhaps 100s of presences.

"Do you vow that within this mystic sphere, you will
henceforth lose your name and be known in this temple as Soror
Video Omnia Sed Me Coerceo?"

The voice of the sister Initiator was clear and
ringing, vibrating around the room. At the same time as she was
marvelling at the power and resonance in the voice, she recognised
it as Judith's.

"Answer, I do," whispered her guide.

"I do," Millicent said.

"Why do you come here?" the Initiator asked.

Her guide answered, aloud and firmly, "I inhabit a
world of ignorence and darkness: I seek the light."

A different voice, which Millicent recognised as that
of Tobias N'Dibe, boomed from somewhere in the same direction,
"Un-purified and un-consecrated you cannot enter our Sacred
Hall."

"Lead the aspirant around the hall to the West," said
the Initiator.

Millicent felt herself led by her guide, probably in
an elongated circle: she walked slowly preceded by a faint metallic
sound - the censor no doubt, because the scent of incense was
strong.

Suddenly, the circuit hardly begun, she was stopped.
Someone traced a sign on her forehead. She thought the design was a
triangle, but she wasn't sure.

A voice said, "You are purified by Earth," and the
slow walk continued.

She was stopped again and Millicent felt a draft of
air in her face. A different voice said, "You are purified by Air."
and again the slow perambulation continued.

She was halted a third time and Millicent could feel
the warmth of a lamp, or possibly a candle, close to her face. She
thought it might be tracing another triangle. "You are purified by
fire," a voice said

The slow perambulation continued. The silence was
heavy, the atmosphere alive and electric. She wondered how large
the room was, for they seemed to have been walking forever.

Again she was stopped and a triangle was traced on
her forehead with water. A fourth different voice said, "You are
purified with water."

Millicent's guide turned her round and she lost all
sense of direction.

"Let us pray to the Creator," the Initiator said.
"Let the Aspirant kneel."

"There is a kneeling stool just in front of you," the
guide whispered. Millicent felt around for it and was helped to her
knees.

The voice of the Initiator rang out: "Lord of the
Universe and Creator of all, ruler of Light and Darkness! Look with
favour on this Aspirant who now kneels before Thee. Grant Thine aid
unto the higher aspirations of her soul, so that she may prove a
true and faithful Soror Neophyte. To the glory of Thine Ineffable
Name. Amen."

"An obligation is now required of you," said the
initiator, "for all details of membership and meetings membership
and some of what we teach is confidential. Understand, however,
that in that obligation there is nothing contrary to, or subversive
of, your civil, religious or moral duties. Are you willing to take
that obligation?"

There was no prompt, no pressure, only an expectant
silence, into which Millicent said, "I am."

Then you will remain kneeling, hold this volume of
the sacred law in your left hand, place your right hand upon it;
state your several names at length and say after me. I ..."

"I, Millicent Kathleen Hampshire ..."

"In the Presence of the Lord of the Universe ..."

"In the Presence of the Lord of the Universe ..."

"Who eternally creates and sustains all reality ...
"

"Who eternally creates and sustains all reality ...
"

"Who works in silence within..."

"Who works in silence within..."

"And of this Hall of Neophytes ... "

"And of this Hall of Neophytes ... "

Millicent pledged to keep confidential the names of
the members of the group in all lawful circumstances, not to abuse
any knowledge she gained from her studies within the order or to
use her knowledge for evil purposes, to respect all religions
without exception and to maintain a kindly and benevolent attitude
towards all other seekers of the Light.

Finally, the Initiator continued, "I solemnly promise
not to flaunt or parade ... any knowledge I may acquire ... to
those who are not ... true seekers of the Light."

"I swear to observe all these things ... without
evasion ... equivocation ... or mental reservation of any
kind."

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