Venom's Taste - Lisa Smedman [85]
Tanju chuckled. “Eager to begin, I see. Good. Once you’ve relieved yourself and washed, we can start.”
A short time later, Arvin sat cross-legged in the crude stone shelter, hands resting on his knees and eyes closed, in the position he’d seen his mother adopt each morning at Sunrise. He’d always assumed her morning meditations to be a form of dozing, but now he understood what she’d really been doing. The mental exercises Tanju was putting him through were every bit as strenuous as the asanas Zelia performed. They were not a flexing of muscle, though, but a flexing of mind.
Following Tanju’s instructions, he relaxed his body, concentrating on letting his muscles loosen, starting with his forehead, his eyes, his jaw-and thus on down through his entire body. That done, he concentrated on his breathing, drawing air in through his nose, out through his mouth, in through his nose, out through his mouth…
He was supposed to be aware only of his breathing-to clear his mind of all other thoughts-but this was a much more difficult task than it sounded. Like a small child running zigzags across an open field, spiting its parents’ attempts to make it stand in one place and be still, Arvin’s mind kept darting this way and that. To Zelia and the mind seed-if Tanju didn’t help, whatever was Arvin going to do next? To the rebels-were Gonthril and the others still alive, or had they died in the assassination attempt? To the horrible rotted-flesh thing, and Kayla, and the sewers, and the Pox, and the flasks shaped like snake rattles, and the-
“Maintain your focus,” Tanju snapped. “Concentrate! Clear your mind of stray thoughts.”
With an effort, Arvin wrenched his mind back to the current moment. He breathed in through the nose, out through the mouth, in through his nose… Dimly, he was aware of Tanju, seated beside him in the shelter. The psion’s breathing matched his own. Slowly, Arvin’s mind stilled.
“Better,” Tanju said. “We can begin now.”
Tanju took a deep breath and began his instruction. “Before he can master a power, a psion must master his own mind,” he told Arvin. “He must explore every corner, every crevice. Especially those that he would rather remain in darkness. He must seek out the desires, fears, and memories that lie in darkness and bring them out into the light, one by one. Until you can prove yourself capable of doing this, it is pointless for me to try to teach you.”
Arvin nodded, determined to try.
“In order for you to attempt to gain mastery over your fears, it will be necessary for me to guide you,” Tanju continued. “To do this, I must join my mind with yours.”
As he realized what Tanju was asking, Arvin’s breath caught. Zelia had already trampled through his mind and left her deadly seed. Did he really want another person crowding in there, too? “Is there any other way?” he asked.
“Without my guidance, what you’re about to attempt could take a tenday or more to master. It’s your choice.”
After a few moments, Arvin realized that’s just what he didn’t have: a choice. This might be his only chance to learn more about psionics before… Shrugging the thought aside, he concentrated and found the breathing pattern again. In through the nose, out through the mouth; in through the nose…”All right,” he sighed. “Do it. Join.”
Suddenly, Arvin’s skin felt wet. A thin, slippery coating of ectoplasm coated his body. Then it was gone.
Good, Tanju said, his words slipping into Arvin’s mind like a whisper. Now we can begin.
Tanju guided him, instructing Arvin to come up with a mental picture that represented his mind. Some object that Arvin could visualize-a network of roads, perhaps, or a system of streams and rivers down which his thoughts journeyed.
Arvin considered these examples and decided to visualize his thoughts like a flowing river. It proved to be a mistake. The river swiftly shifted into an image of snakes, slithering through his mind, trying to find each other so they could form a mating ball. Recognizing them as the tendrils of the mind seed, Arvin recoiled, his heart pounding.