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On Friday evening, Anne arrived at Dr. Abernathy’s estate around six o’clock. “To the house, not the office,” his voice on the answering machine had said.
She glanced over her shoulder. The black Ferrari she’d been noticing off and on all week was nowhere to be seen. She lifted her hand to ring the bell when Abernathy’s wife and their two daughters swept out the front door.
“We’re going to the city,” one daughter called over her shoulder.
“To go shopping,” the younger finished, with a conspiratorial smile.
“I’m sorry to rush off, darling,” Grace Abernathy pecked Anne on both checks European style, “but you two are likely to talk business, and you know how the girls squirm. He’s in the dining room waiting for you,” she added over her shoulder. “Ta, ta.”
Anne waved good-bye. She had grown used to Grace’s flamboyant ways and, more important, had lost her discomfort with the vast differences between Dr. Abernathy’s aristocratic reserve and his wife’s excesses. Beneath her veneer, Grace Abernathy was a solid support for her family, with brains to match her husband’s.
Anne paused in the entryway to gaze at her favorite stained-glass window, which dominated the landing of the stairs—a knight dressed in white kneeling before a brilliant golden star. The banisters were a dark oak, the carpet a burgundy that matched tones in the knight’s tunic and the red roses in the border of the window. She glanced through the French doors to her right, where palms and sofas filled the back wall of the large living room. Every time she came to Dr. Abernathy’s house, she felt as if she’d entered a chapel. She stood for a moment in the silence.
Carrying this calm with her, she walked down the hallway to the left and into the dining room. Dressed in a shirt, khaki pants, and his habitual ascot, Dr. Abernathy was as relaxed as he ever allowed himself to be. He offered her a glass of wine. “I hope you don’t mind that we are dining alone tonight. We do have business, and Grace and the girls need to spend some of my money.” He rolled his eyes.
“Thank you.” Anne accepted the glass and took her seat at the long table next to Dr. Abernathy, who sat at the head. They started with a pumpkin soup with some complex spicing that Anne tried to decipher with each bite. “This is delicious.”
“I’ll tell the cook.”
“How was your trip to Washington?”
“Very busy. I think I’m getting too old for politics.”
Anne laughed. “That’ll be the day.”
Dr. Abernathy paused to consider her, wineglass in hand. “It’s true, you know. This public life is not my true vocation.”
Anne looked up, surprised. “So are you going to retire and become a gardener? Sail off to the islands?”
“No, my place is here with your family.”
“But you are family.” Anne was touched by his wistful tone. “Now tell me about this mysterious case of yours. I’m eager to put my teeth into something.”
Rather than answering, Dr. Abernathy rang a small bell beside his plate and the cook carried in the next course. “Our compliments on the soup, Lois.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Anne surveyed her plate, a small portion of bean loaf served with wild rice and haricots verts. “Has Thomas talked you into becoming a vegetarian?”
Dr. Abernathy laughed and patted his stomach. “Just want to eat light when I have the chance.” He looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “Before we talk business, tell me what’s bothering you.”
Anne set down her fork. “Bothering me? Why do you think something is bothering me?”
“Well, let’s see; you disappear from your grandmother’s without a word, you’ve been distracted at the office, you come here asking about business so quickly. Shall I go on?”
“There’s more?” Anne looked a bit chagrined.
“You’ve been looking tired lately. And preoccupied. Is it anything I can help you with?” Dr. Abernathy softened his tone.
“It’s just the family trying to take over my life again.”
“More than usual?”
She sighed. “Thomas and Elizabeth seem to think that accepting an inheritance means accepting their demands about how to handle it. And my mother . . .” Anne picked up her fork again. “. . . thinks I’ve completely gone over to the other side.”
“You know, it’s too bad Katherine has divided the family when we’re really all on the same side.”
“Well, you can hardly blame her.” Anne turned and looked at Dr. Abernathy as his comment registered. “What side would that be?”
“That is one of the things I was hoping to talk to you about tonight.”
“What are you talking about? I thought we had a case to discuss.”
Dr. Abernathy chuckled. “In a manner of speaking, we do. If you’re finished, let’s adjourn to the library for sherry.”
The library held a large collection Anne had never fully explored. As a child, she’d loved to climb the spiral staircase to the second floor of books surrounded by a small walkway protected by banisters. She and Thomas had often played pirates here, making each other walk the plank or pretending they were at the top of a mast searching the ocean with their scopes. Now a fire burned brightly in the stone fireplace framed by two comfortable sofas, an overstuffed chair, and several reading lamps. A decanter of sherry, a pitcher of water, and glasses waited on an end table. Anne curled up on the sofa and wrapped herself in a chenille comforter. Dr. Abernathy handed her a glass of sherry.
“You know, I’ve never really liked this stuff,” she confessed. “It’s too sweet.”
“Would you like something else?”
“No, thank you.” Anne put the glass down on the coffee table. “Now tell me what this is all about. I confess, you have me puzzled.”
Dr. Abernathy paused over a sip of sherry, then studied her.
“What? This is Anne, remember? Your honorary niece?”
Dr. Abernathy settled back on the sofa and reached for his pipe. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this ever since it became apparent that you were the heir to . . .” He hesitated, and Anne’s heart thumped. “. . . to the crystal.”
“The crystal.” Anne sat forward. “What do you know about the crystal?”
“Quite a bit, my dear.” He looked into her eyes for a long moment. “I am the teacher your grandmother said would be contacting you.”
Anne stared in disbelief. “You?”
“Yes, your old uncle is also a mystic.”
“How can that be? You’ve always been so . . .” she reached for a word, “rational.”
Dr. Abernathy smiled at this. “I’ll show you how mysticism is also rational and follows natural laws.”
Anne stood up suddenly, “Oh, so now you are going to start telling me how to run my life? Well, I don’t think so. Not you, too.”
Dr. Abernathy made no move to stop her. “I can understand you feel betrayed.”
“You’re damn right I do, and I’m leaving.”
“If you want to leave, please do.”
“I will leave, and I don’t need your permission.” Anne’s face was flushed.
“I’ll never force you to do anything against your will. The job you have before you is too dangerous, the training too rigorous, the attunement too refined to be forced. You must be one hundred percent committed to succeed.”
By the time Dr. Abernathy finished this speech, Anne was halfway across the room. She stopped and turned on him. “What job? What is this legacy you all keep talking about? Why did Aunt Cynthia give this to me when I hardly knew her?”
“That might be a good place for us to start tonight,” Dr. Abernathy said quietly.
“Are you going to conjure up her spirit and ask her?”
He ignored the sarcasm. “I don’t think we’ll have to go that far.”
Anne stared at him, at a complete loss.
“I only know part of the story. As children, your mother and Cynthia were unusually competitive. Katherine was the older, but by only eighteen months. By tradition, the eldest daughter is usually the heir.”
“Everyone inherits from Grandmother. She’s been clear about that always.” Anne was still standing halfway across the room.
“I’m not talking about money or property.”
“Then what are you talking about? Why does everyone keep secrets from me?” Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head against them, annoyed with herself.
“Because your mother insisted, darling. But now it is time to tell you the truth.”
Anne walked back over to the sofa and sat on the edge. “I would like to know the truth.”
Dr. Abernathy took a sip of sherry and sat back, his attention turned inward for a moment.
Anne picked up her drink and finished it off in one gulp. Dr. Abernathy raised an eyebrow and Anne shrugged. “I think I need it.”
He chuckled. “It’s not all that bad, you know. Your family holds a particular responsibility with historical roots that go back—well, quite far. I’m going to leave it to Thomas to tell you the intricacies of the family history. Most people think aristocratic standing can be traced back to ancient landowners. But it’s not that simple. Some families get their standing because special abilities are passed through their line. Your family has a long history of metaphysical talent.”
Anne snorted.
“The family’s public obligation stems from this talent.”
Anne started to interrupt, but Dr. Abernathy forestalled her. “At least hear me out.”
She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Each generation is trained to use their psychic senses. The men, as you know, are trained to rule. And now perhaps the women,” he conceded when he saw her arched eyebrows. “We’ve been living through a dark night. When I say ‘we,’ I mean humanity in general. Enlightened leadership can lessen suffering during the dark times. That’s been half your family’s job.
He paused to light his pipe. “But this night will end and when it does, it’s important that the Le Clairs and others like them be in positions of power to bring certain knowledge to light. This is the second half of the family responsibility.” Dr. Abernathy’s eyes glowed with a depth of feeling she’d never witnessed in him before.
“You really believe this stuff, don’t you?”
“I have reason to, Anne. I’ve seen many things.”
“Those are lovely sentiments. Reactionary, but sweet. What does this crystal have to do with it?”
“There’s so much to tell you.” Dr. Abernathy closed his eyes for a moment.
“Then tell me what happened between Katherine and Cynthia.”
“As I’ve said, they were competitive as children. As the elder, Katherine was in line to be the Keeper, but her sister was much more talented. Katherine didn’t have the patience for the training. She was undisciplined and headstrong. Eventually, Cynthia was chosen instead of her. I don’t think Katherine ever forgave her.”
Anne nodded. “Well, that fits my mother. She thinks she should be ruling the world.”
“We’re not sure what brought about the complete break. It happened after Katherine had married and moved to the city.”
“But you promised me the truth. What was it she was supposed to be the keeper of?”
“The crystal.”
Anne shook her head. “Always the crystal.”
“This crystal is so ancient that we’ve lost part of the knowledge of its use and origin. We can trace it back two thousand years. As I said, Thomas will explain the details to you. The legend is that one will be born to the Le Clairs who will know how to unlock the secrets of this stone and use it to bring in the light.”
Anne could contain herself no longer. “Well, that lets me out, since I know nothing about it. This crystal is just a necklace, for God’s sake. You’re spouting medieval superstitions. How can a rock do anything like that? How can you take any of this seriously?”
“How has it been affecting you since you’ve had it?”
Anne drew herself up. “It hasn’t affected me at all.”
Dr. Abernathy studied her for a long moment. “If you want me to tell the truth, I would appreciate the same from you.”
“Oh, all right, I’m having a lot of dreams. That’s it.”
“Tell me about them.” His tone was clinical and detached.
Anne began to recount the dreams she’d had since receiving the crystal. As she continued, even she was impressed by their number and intensity. When she’d finished, Dr. Abernathy nodded. “Any more?”
“I think that’s it.”
“How long have you had the crystal?”
Anne counted. “Ten days.”
“Have you ever had dreams like this before?”
Dr. Abernathy’s calm step-by-step questioning reminded her of how a case was built in a court of law, and she started to relax.
“No, not that I can recall. I used to have intense dreams as a child, but they faded.”
He picked up his glass and said casually, “Thomas thinks they’re more than dreams.”
“He said something about the crystal downloading its history to me, but how can a rock talk?”
Dr. Abernathy poured Anne another glass of sherry. “Actually, crystal transmits energy quite well. It is used in computers, watches—”
Anne interrupted, “Yes, I’ve read about it.”
“You have?” She had surprised him.
“I’ve done a little research on my own.”
“That’s my Annie.” He tipped his glass to hers. “Interrupt me if I repeat what you already know. Crystal can be programmed with information, like a file in a computer. This information can be placed or retrieved psychically. It’s really not such a strange notion when you understand the crystalline structure.”
Dr. Abernathy looked around for a piece of paper. “This idea has been called the lattice defect theory. The structure of quartz crystal is silicon dioxide, one silicon atom bonded to two oxygen atoms forming a hexagon. That’s why crystals have six points.” He drew a small crystal.
“Okay, that makes sense.”
“In the latticework of a crystal, the silicon atom is sometimes missing, leaving an empty energy space.” He drew a representation of this. “There can be millions of such spaces in even a small crystal. It is believed that this space can be occupied by pulsed energy, or human thought.”
“What?” Anne shook her head. “How can that be? Human thought isn’t energy.”
“It isn’t? So what are they measuring when they take an EEG?”
“Electrical energy.”
“And how is this different from thought?”
She sat back. “Well, I guess you have a point, but it still sounds like science fiction.”
“This crystal could have been programmed thousands of years ago with information to be passed down and retrieved much later, when humanity wakes from its long sleep.”
“A letter from the past. But how do we read it? We don’t even speak the same language now. Besides, they were cave men, weren’t they?”
Dr. Abernathy rubbed his temples. “We have a lot of information to go over in a short time. And I want to leave the history for Thomas. The thought impulse is not necessarily encoded in language, actual words, but in intention. The current mind will translate the impulse into images, perhaps words, that make sense given its context. For now, let’s see if we can find out anything about why Cynthia gave this crystal to you.”
Anne’s forehead wrinkled. “Okay, how do we do that?”
“I’d like to use hypnosis to access any early childhood memories you might have of your aunt.”
She frowned. “But hasn’t hypnosis been proven unreliable? Aren’t people arguing that therapists can plant false memories?”
“Possibly, if used incorrectly, but I know what I’m doing. Do you want to proceed?”
“What do I do?”
“Lie down and get completely comfortable.”
Anne lay back on the couch.
Dr. Abernathy covered her with a blanket.
She smiled. “Just like when I stayed overnight as a kid and you tucked me in.”
“Your metabolism will drop when you go into an altered state,” he explained. “Now close your eyes and just listen to my voice.” Dr. Abernathy began a standard hypnotic induction, beginning with her breathing, then asking her to relax each part of her body in turn, starting from her feet and working his way up. He took a long time and soon Anne was floating in a quiet, peaceful state.
“Now I want you to go in your mind to the place you feel safe. Lift your finger when you’re there.”
Anne immediately lifted her right forefinger.
“Tell me where you are.”
“In Granny’s rose garden,” said Anne in a childlike voice.
“Describe it for me,” Dr. Abernathy said.
“It’s so beautiful, with a birdbath in the center and all colors of roses planted around. In the back is a trellis with red ones growing all over it. In the summer, I can hide on the bench behind it and no one can see me. The air is full of the roses’ smell.”
Dr. Abernathy went on. “Now, Anne, I want you to go to a time when you were with your Aunt Cynthia.”
Anne’s first memory was of riding her pony with Cynthia over the estate. The pony ride melted into Christmas morning, which gave way to a pillow fight with Thomas that Aunt Cynthia stopped. Dr. Abernathy’s voice whispered above her somewhere as memory after memory played out before her eyes. Then Anne was alone with Cynthia, before a burning candle.
“Tell me what is happening,” Dr. Abernathy said.
“Aunt Cynthia is drawing in the air with a knife and we’re holding hands. Now she’s sprinkling me with water.” Anne’s nose wrinkled. “It tickles.”
“How old are you?”
“Four.”
Incense burned on the altar beside the candle. A bowl of water and a bowl of salt stood on the other side. The crystal necklace lay in the middle surrounded by rose petals. Cynthia turned to Anne and asked, “Do you remember why you were born?”
“Yes, Auntie, we all came to change the world.”
“We?”
“Many of us. We’re here to make things good again.” “You remember this?”
Anne nodded solemnly.
Cynthia kissed her forehead. “I’m going to tell you a secret, darling, and let’s keep it between us. Is that okay?”
Again, Anne nodded.
“This crystal is going to be yours one day, and you’re going to use it to make things good again for all the people on Earth. Do you want to do that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Cynthia smiled. “Now I’m going to chant. It’s like singing. Then we’ll both hold the crystal together, and this will bind you to it.”
“But I already belong to it, Auntie.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened.
“When I was in the castle and even before.”
“You remember?”
Anne nodded.
“Good, this will make your memories stronger.” She began to chant again and the atmosphere deepened. After a few minutes, Cynthia picked up the crystal and placed it in both their hands. She called on the highest ones. “Bless this child and strengthen her abilities. Return her memories and her knowledge from past initiations. Protect her and lead her. Lend her your grace, for it is clear she is the one. This one will turn the key.”
As Anne recounted the prayer, tears seeped from the corners of her eyes.
When Anne stopped talking, Dr. Abernathy counted her back to the present moment.
Anne opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Imagine that,” she said. “I remembered past lives as a child. I knew the purpose of my life then. If only I’d kept that knowledge.”
“Excellent. I wondered if you would retain full memory.” Dr. Abernathy handed her a glass of water.
“Thank you.” She sat up and drank it down.
“Tell me what else you remember.”
“After the ritual, Mother found out we’d been together and insisted I tell her what had happened. Then she called Cynthia on the phone and I remember a screaming fight. She kept saying, ‘You’ll never see my daughter again.’ And I never did. I cried and cried. I really missed her, even though I dreamed about her often.”
“So now we know why Katherine broke so completely with Cynthia. She couldn’t stand for Cynthia to teach you.” He looked at her for a moment, his eyes shining. “Now it’s certain. You are the one. We feared you would never accept this.”
Anne sighed. “But can it be true? I’ve spent so many years not believing in any of this. I’ve pushed down any psychic abilities I may have had. Maybe it’s too late.”
Dr. Abernathy sat back on his sofa. “This session is a good sign. You went into trance very rapidly. And—”
Anne interrupted him, “Yes, as you were getting me to relax, I remembered that Aunt Cynthia had done this with me many times. She also taught me a special sound used to meditate. I did it every day as a child, and I still do when I’m tired or worried. I’d forgotten where I learned it, I’ve been doing it so long.”
“That is another excellent sign. You’ve meditated most of your life, so you’ll be able to learn how to open to your dreams and visions easily.”
“I don’t know. It all seems so unreal.”
He smiled at her. “Do you want to continue?”
Tears filled Anne’s eyes. “Very much. I feel as if I’ve uncovered some hidden treasure I never imagined I had.”
“Excellent. I think we’ve done enough tonight. You’ll sleep well. I’ll be in touch with you soon.” Anne nodded.
“I’ll call for a taxi. I don’t want you driving after this session.”
Anne smiled. “Ever the protector.”
“That’s my job, my dear. You can’t imagine how accurate you are.”