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After some discussion as to how a session of hypnosis was to be conducted, as well as detailing our ultimate goal, even Helen agreed that if it worked, there would still be some amount of danger involved. Given Felicity’s and my preternatural connection with the other side of the veil, we could very easily springboard from the hypnotic trance state directly into a full-blown ethereal excursion. Helen still felt confident that she could control the situation if it did in fact occur; however, as with anything in life, it was something she could not guarantee with absolute certainty. The fact that there was even a remote chance of slipping past the gates and into the world of the dead was a point of hot contention for my wife and I.

We both agreed that this was something that had to be done. Backing out of it was not even an issue. Given the circumstances, however, neither of us was willing to let the other be a guinea pig. The banter between us didn’t last long before Felicity simply insisted that she be the one to go under; or at the very least, that she go first. In her mind, I was only to become involved as a last resort if she was unsuccessful. And, she had every intention of seeing to it that she didn’t fail.

I, of course, was dead set against her facing any of this at all. I abandoned my earlier argument, not that it had been getting me anywhere to begin with, and without embellishment told her no, absolutely not; the subject of this experiment would be me, and only me, end of story.

She wasn’t ready for story time to be over yet.

As was her stubborn nature, she had just looked back at me in silence like I was speaking an unfamiliar foreign language. After a moment, she said something on the order of, “Damn your eyes, Rowan Linden Gant, if you sit in that chair, you’ll never make it under because I’ll be slapping you silly.” There may well have been a few Gaelic expletives interspersed, but that was the general gist of it, and she said it in dead earnest.

The important thing here is that this was the second time this evening Felicity had threatened to get physical. You always knew just exactly how serious she was whenever she intimated violence. While I figured it was unlikely that she would actually follow through, I had no desire to put it to the test. Manifest proof, yet again, that one should never argue with a redheaded, Irish Taurus when she has already made up her mind. With this one, at least, you simply could not win.

I suppose that one of these days I would wise up and take my own advice in that regard. Maybe.

So, having begrudgingly conceded, I now found myself sitting in our semi-darkened living room, quietly watching my wife begin her journey.

“Don’t speak, Felicity. Simply listen to my voice and relax.” Helen Storm’s soothing tone sounded nearby. “Breathe in deeply and let the air flow slowly from your lungs. Allow it to take with it the stress of the day… Relax… Breathe…”

This was what Helen referred to as the ‘Induction,’ the process by which the hypnotist starts the subject along his or her way. To me, and I am sure Felicity as well, it was a lesson right out of ‘Wicca 101’. Everything she was doing was a basic grounding technique a Witch would use to become centered and connect with the earth before performing magick or ritual. If I didn’t know what was actually going on here, I would assume that she was preparing to cast a circle.

“Keep your eyes focused on the flame…” she continued, her voice an even, melodic tenor. “Watch it… Study it… Allow it to become the only thing that you see.”

Ben and Constance were in the dining room, still within earshot but physically out of the way so as not to prove a distraction to the process. I, however, was positioned immediately beside Felicity as she reclined in a chair. Proximity was the one concession I had demanded.

I was to be her failsafe. While Helen concentrated on extracting the hidden information, if any, I would watch for signs that my wife was slipping too far across the threshold. It all came down to the fact that whether Felicity liked it or not, I had absolute control over ending the session if I felt it was getting out of hand.

Of course, if it became necessary for me to take a turn concentrating on the flame, she would have the exact same power. Even so, she made me promise not to stop the session needlessly just to get her out of harm’s way. I cannot say that I hadn’t considered doing just that, but I made the promise, and I would abide by it. My hold card was the fact that we hadn’t discussed exactly how far was too far, and it was too late for her to argue that point now.

“Keep watching the flame, Felicity,” Helen spoke again. “You are comfortable… You are relaxed… You are at peace with yourself and everything around you… Allow that comfort to fill you from head to toe… Embrace it, and allow it to embrace you…”

I watched the rise and fall of Felicity’s chest as it slowed, becoming a barely perceptible movement of her near frozen form. Her face was slack, lips parted slightly and eyes fixed in a glazed stare firmly attached to the glowing tip of the candle. I could physically sense how grounded she was. She had become so disconnected from the conscious mind that even her psychic defenses were quickly falling away. That worried me but not enough to stop the session. I had actually predicted that it would happen before we even started, so even though I was concerned, I wasn’t surprised.

I immediately extended my own ethereal shields to surround her as well as myself, effectively negating her sudden vulnerability to the non-physical energies around us. This was a task at which she was far more practiced than I considering that she had done it for me on numerous occasions when I was suffering a psychic episode. Still, it was an ability I possessed even though these days it took a bit more concentration on my part.

“Now, I want you to close your eyes, Felicity,” Helen instructed in a quiet voice. “Maintain the image of the flame… See it in your mind’s eye… Watch it flicker as if your eyes were still firmly focused upon it… Allow it to illuminate your world as you begin to see a staircase before you, leading downward…”

As expected, my wife was slipping into the trance in record time, undoubtedly due to years of meditation and psychic exercises. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Helen was good at what she did. While she had outlined the various stages of the induction for us, it wasn’t readily obvious when she moved from one to the next as she did so with such fluid confidence.

The serenity was momentarily broken by the sound of a dull clunk. In reality, it wasn’t very loud at all, but in the stillness of the house it echoed heavily. I jerked slightly and looked up across the room to see Ben staring back at me with his own startled expression. His hand was held out toward his coffee cup where it rested on the dining room table as if motioning for it to stop making noise. He tensed and frowned then mouthed the word ‘sorry’.

I slowly turned back to my wife and saw that fortunately the sound hadn’t affected her in the least.

Helen continued. “When you see the staircase, Felicity, you will raise your right index finger.”

Almost as soon as she had finished speaking, my wife’s finger arched upward of its own accord and came to rest as if pointing at something in the distance. Consciously, Felicity most likely wasn’t even aware that her finger was raised. It was doing so based on something Helen had called an ideomotor response. It was a physical manifestation of the power of suggestion driven by the engine of the subconscious mind.

“Good,” Helen announced with a faint note of satisfaction in her voice. “Now, lower your finger. Before we proceed, we will establish this simple boundary. If at any time you hear me say the word ‘return’, you will immediately come back to this place of absolute comfort and safety. I will then begin counting from one to ten. When I reach ten, you will awaken. You will be calm, relaxed, and you will remember everything. If you understand this, raise your finger again.”