emotional energy, as
emotional energy, as well as psychic, mental and spiritual power from prayers, pleas for mercy, and religious rituals, all sent to Dominion for his empowerment. My Higher Self helped me to discover the runic formula by which Dominion transfers karma, along with the underlying quantum physics involved in the process. Therefore, I will be able to assist certain people in avoiding the allotted Kama, and probably even send some back to Dominion as well. CHAPTER: 9 DEVELOPING YOUR INNER POWER Most often, those who write and teach on the subject of tapping into our inner power, focus on success in business, love and prosperity, whether it be in the gaining of wealth, attaining a life of leisure, or achieving notoriety in sports and entertainment. There is nothing wrong with such pursuits, but at this time, I am going to place the concept of
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developing your inner
developing your inner power in the context of escaping hell. At the same time, however, this inner power will allow you to live life more effectively, and the successes you desire will occur as a natural result of your inner development. Escaping hell, as you’ve already noticed, involves the processes associated with the esoteric aspects of the spiritual path. We have not labeled it in any specific terms, because at the esoteric level all spiritual paths are in accord with one another, regardless of any variances in cultural techniques and terminology. The subject of spiritual development has been enshrouded by a barrier of confusion for a very long time now. Students of the spiritual arts have been duped, misguided and kept in the dark, while constantly placing their claim on spirituality. Many have engaged in lifelong pursuits of exactly what is meant by the terms love, transcendence, detachment,
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desire, enlightenment, Self
desire, enlightenment, Self Realization, and God Realization. Hamingja Consciousness, of course, is an Old Norse term for the “realized individual”, and many an ego has assumed this to be its state of consciousness, while confusing either shamanism or pacifism with the spiritual path. Escaping hell necessarily involves becoming the master of your destiny; becoming one who possesses an inner strength and wisdom which far surpasses that of the masses that follow someone else like sheep. The spiritual path is a way by which you can know your Self, gain confidence in your ability to direct yourself through life, and establish solid ground for your ethical standards. It’s a way by which you become spiritually mature. As your lower emotional passions are purified, you will no longer react to situations as one who is controlled by outside influences. This does not mean that you will lack emotion, only that
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you will act
you will act in accordance with what you are willing or unwilling to accept from others, what it takes to establish acceptable relationships, and in accordance with your ethical standards. Under these circumstances, you will not be apologizing on a regular basis, for things done or said out of uncontrolled emotion. You will notice that there is a detached quality to that which you desire, even in the area of sexual relationships, making it easy to live by the ethics you have accepted as being moral. Detachment will allow you to forsake the lower emotional passions of greed, lust, envy, anger, and undue attachment. A display of what we call anger must be an action, rather than a reaction. In the detached state, one is not left with the customary physical response to anger, as is the case with anger arising from an emotional reaction rooted in one of
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Garin pointed. The
Garin pointed. The Mummer s Mask stood in a huddle of taverns and old houses on the side of a low hill commanding a good view of the River Quarter. Lying before them were the narrow overhung streets of the older and poorer area, which eventually led into the vast plazas and pillared promenades surrounded by the garden courts of the wealthy. Farther to the west and standing high above the slate and wooden roofs were the domes of churches, the fantastic and fanciful statues ornamenting the gables of the fortified Great Houses, the spires of the stone-filigree palaces on the artificial islands on the river s upper reaches, all transformed into anonymous shapes of alternating black and silver as clouds drifted past the moon. But now, against the stark shadowy forms of the crowded structures of the River Quarter, they could
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see the bright
see the bright glow of fire, a harsh splash of color in the darkness. \ Down near Cross Street, I think,\ Garin said. More of the troupe had drifted up the stairs in his wake, curious. \ Lord save it doesn t spread,\ one of them whispered. \ Another bad omen,\ Baraselli muttered. One of the clowns had died of fever last month. Clowns were traditionally good luck in Adera, if not in Ile-Rien, and having one of them die unexpectedly had shaken the other performers. Gods and spirits, no more omens before this of all performances, Baraselli prayed. \ Maybe it s a good omen,\ the new Columbine said, selecting an apple out of the bowl on the table and watching the worried actors with oblique amusement. \ Some
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people think fire
people think fire is.\ Dark smoke streamed into the night sky. * * * They rode through St. Anne s Gate and into the cobbled court between the high walls of the Mews and the Cisternan Guard Barracks. The facades of the two buildings were almost identical, though time and weather had scarred the dressed stone in different ways. Each was entered by three great archways that faced one another across the length of the court. Now torches threw reflections up onto the mist-slick stone as grooms and stablehands hurried to take the horses or curious Cisternans wandered out to see what the excitement was. Thomas dismounted and handed the reins to one of the grooms. He took off a glove to rub the horse s nape, then let the man lead
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her away. This
her away. This was Cisternan Guard territory, but it was also the closest entrance to the palace, and he wanted Galen Dubell within a warded structure before Grandier made another attempt on the old sorcerer. The palace wards repelled fay, sendings, and any other form of magical attack. They were fitted together like the pieces of a puzzlebox, or a stained glass window, and drifted constantly, moving past each other, folding over each other, wandering at will over their domain. They would prevent the sorcerous abduction that Grandier had used to snatch Galen Dubell from his home in Lodun, and the palace s other defenses were more than adequate to hold off hired swords. As Thomas crossed the court toward the two sorcerers, the Cisternan Commander Vivan joined him. The Cisternans were the regular guard for the
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After this there
After this there ainPt no more worries for us.N HePd say. Eventually it stopped working. HePd figured it would wear out anyway, but he was free mileage until then. Women will buy anything, he thought. Until it got too used, like everything else about Howie. He noticed how he always thought about her — 81 — when he was sweet-talking the van into overwork and abuse. Sweet talk worked on her for a long time. It might still be working, if it wasnPt for the beatings. Not that she didnPt deserve them, he thought. The thought made him realize his drugs were wearing off. He started feeling the fatigue and ache moving back into him
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and decided he
and decided he needed to drop some help, but he needed to eat something first. He was genuinely down on fuel. He felt around behind him, running blind as he looked back and pulled the first package he found. Oreos. He ripped them open and jammed several into his mouth. Gomez and BobbyPd better appre- ciate what he went through for them. HePd gotten them provisions and equipment and hePd done without. The skipper is always the last in line, he thought. He liked the romantic tone of that. A blaring horn motivated him back to his own lane. His stomach tried to throw the Oreos back up at him, but he fought it, compromised, and spit whatever remained in his mouth
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out the window. He
out the window. He must be desperate, he thought. How can Gomez eat that shit? What kind of nourishment is that for a grown man? But it was cheap, and he smiled. He shopped with Gomez in mind. He bought Oreos, Pepsis, chips, hot dogs, hot sauce, some miscellaneous canned everything. Howie finally rolled off the causeway, screech- ing to a halt at the drive-thru menu. Time for some real food. — 82 — While Howie ate Oreal foodP, Bobby stood ex- hausted on the stern side of the last watertight door in the upper hold. HePd managed to wedge it
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shut with some
shut with some makeshift tools. It wouldnPt seal, but at least it shut L something less than a labour of love. It wasnPt good enough, but it looked right. That was all they wanted. How did- nPt count. He dropped onto the catwalk that ran the perimeter of the engine room below. Covered in sweat and grime now, he was stripped to his un- derwear, an oily rag for a sweatband. He was weak from hunger and dehydration, from the labor, the kind that dried you up and wrung you out.
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The doors on
The doors on the forward holds of both cargo decks had been relatively undamaged by the fire. But here, in her stern where shePd burned with se- rious heat, the real nightmare lived. The bulk- heads directly forward of the engine room had been cooked so furiously he could see the rolls in the walls. With the bulkheads that badly dam- aged, he understood the watertight doorsP resist- ance to anything resembling conformity. It would be a primary struggle to get them swinging, much less lashed shut and sealed. Bobby faked the seal on most of them. He had- nPt done badly, considering his access to equip- ment. Unless Howie could bribe Lloyds, he knew there was no way some of the doors
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would pass. He
would pass. He looked down into the engine room. Sludge and debris floated everywhere, a couple of feet of it. He smelt it, the usual engine room odors with — 83 — a twist L oil, grease, sweat, and smoke too. It was the pungent, lingering stench that went with fire. Despite that obvious blanket, the still smell of men drifted through his nostrils, sat in his throat with the rest of it. He could taste it, the residual of long-time toil, as though sweat itself had a soul. It had earned the right to stay in re- membrance of those whose pores it had come from, those
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Norgrim. “A human!” the
Norgrim. “A human!” the dragon exclaimed, fixing his blue-green gaze on the man. The voice was even deeper than Symurall’s, and sent shivers through Kaylen’s entire body. The dragon looked pointedly at Norgrim. “Did you bring this creature here? Does my brother know?” “Symurall knows,” Norgrim stated. “And what business do you have here, Sytherek?” “No business that concerns an impertinent dwarf.” Sytherek’s voice deepened and darkened. “Do not tempt me to break protocol. It has been several hours since my last meal.” The spines on the dragon’s back rippled restlessly. “You wouldn’t dare. I taste bad.” “We may test that theory someday.” “My name is Kaylen Thyr,” the man said, stepping forward. “Your brother saved my life last night.” “How interesting,” Sytherek said. “I advised my brother to eat any humans he
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found.” A few
found.” A few teeth showed around the edge of the dragon’s mouth, and Kaylen wasn’t certain if it was a smile or a threat. “Is he keeping you for a late night appetizer?” Kaylen laughed. Sytherek stepped back and pulled his head higher, staring down at the man with deliberate curiosity. “I do not understand.” “If you’re going to eat me,” Kaylen said, “I’d prefer to go out laughing.” Sytherek snorted and shook his head. “Consuming you would not be… polite.” The dragon stretched and yawned. “If more humans are nearby, I may still find a meal.” “You’d kill people who’ve done nothing to you?” Kaylen snapped. Norgrim placed a thick hand on the man’s arm. “Nothing!” the dragon roared, his eyes glowing brightly, the voice chilling. “See nothing, human!” Sytherek turned and
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raised his wing,
raised his wing, displaying the massive scar. “Your race has committed crimes beyond atonement. Consider this: My brother’s losses were greater than mine. Much greater. I suggest you start swimming back to your ruined islands, if you want to live just a bit longer.” He launched violently into the air, nearly knocking his audience over with the wind of his wings. “I can’t tell if you’re brave or stupid,” Norgrim said as they watched the dragon vanish in the distance. “Let’s go back inside. There are many things you should know.” 15 In a cove, near a small beached boat, a dozen humans huddled around a fire. Illuminated
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