“The Age of Ophiuchus will bring about a new state of consciousness: galactic consciousness. Ophiuchus is the only constellation in human form that resides in the direction of the center of our Milky Way Galaxy. In galactic astrology, the center of the Galaxy is analogous to the Higher Self, or the Jungian Self. It is only by transcending the ‘wheel of twelve’ and allowing energy to spiral, resonant with the number thirteen, that we as humans can access and maintain a conscious connection to our Higher Self.”
“A full being?”
“Yes, which brings me to numbers. You will be turning twenty-four. The Great Polar Cycle is divided into seven periods of 3,700 years each. The number seven is very important. If you add up all the digits and use the Illuminated addition process, you will get the number twenty-eight.”
“Illuminated addition process?” Memphis sounded like a parrot rather than a scientist, but she wanted to keep up. He was throwing so much information at her, and she had a slight hangover from last night. She tried not to think of Lawrence and his soft kisses. He had found this spot on her neck….
Her thoughts were thankfully interrupted by Virgil’s answer.
“From an ancient religion, allow me to walk you through the mathematical process.” He took out a blank sheet of paper from his briefcase and began to write down a series of numbers.
“One plus two, plus three, plus four, plus five, plus six, plus seven equals twenty-eight, and if you carry the process of each number to seven, the total will be eighty-four.” He began to draw circles. “This creates twenty-eight tangent circles and three realms of being. The outer realm is marked by the eighteen outer circles, the middle realm by nine middle circles, and the inner realm by one center circle.”
“Your universal center,” she blurted out. She then wondered how she could have possibly known that.
“Why, yes. Very good, Memphis.” He patted her on the head.
Instead of feeling patronized, she was relieved that she could finally contribute to the conversation.
“The number twenty-eight is the triune of man—man as spirit, soul, and body. Spirit is one, Soul is four, and Body is seven. The number of the perfected individual, therefore, equals twenty-eight, but the full process of individuation must take place and each number must be worked out. This takes eighty-four years.
“By developing only the basic numbers, we have one plus ten plus twenty-eight—a total of thirty-nine, the age when one reaches some important level of spiritual development.
“This twenty-eight-year cycle can be plotted out on your birth chart. The birth chart is used as a space pattern revealing the blueprint of the completed selfhood, but the time sequence of the operations of the building can also be discovered by starting from the ascendant—the beginning of the building—and following along the circumference of the chart in a counterclockwise motion. When the ascendant is reached, the first cycle of twenty-eight years is closed and the second begins, ending with the fifty-sixth year. The third twenty-eight-year cycle follows, coming to a close at the age of eighty-four, which marks the theoretical and symbolic completion of man’s inner temple. This is the end of the process on individuation.
“The physical birth takes place up to the age of twenty-eight, then you have the psycho-mental birth from ages twenty-eight to fifty-six, and then the spiritual birth to the end, eighty-four.
“Twenty-eight-year cycles form the true basis for the ancient idea of first born, twice born, and thrice born. Each cycle represents a complete revolution of the entire pattern of selfhood, the axis of the birth chart. This symbolic revolution is timed in a manner that every seven years, one arm of the cross comes to the position that the succeeding one occupied originally. So, at the age of seven, the ascendant comes to the position occupied at birth by the latter to that of the natal descendant. At fourteen, the ascendant comes to the birth position of the descendant at twenty-one of the Mid-heaven. At twenty-eight, it reaches its own natal position and a second cycle begins in the same pattern. The ascendant is the very center of the whole consciousness.
“At twenty-one, a person comes of age. The mind has to prove itself and find its own ideals, its own friends. This is the twelfth house stage. At the middle point of this seven-year cycle, at the age of twenty-four and a half, this is when you will face the greatest crisis between ideals and companions.”
Memphis listened to every single word, but it was difficult to follow. “So my upcoming year will be the most challenging?”
“Yes, but because you have the outer planets so prominently in your chart, you will be able to manage it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The voice of the collective is symbolized by the trinity of the remote planets Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. They may symbolize the spiritual apex of the collective humanity. They may even speak of cosmic events beyond our solar system to the initiated tidings from our galaxy and forebodings from the spaces beyond. In any case, they are wholeness speaking to individual particles.”
He must have noticed the blank stare on her face, because he began to break it down.
“Uranus is the projective power of the unconscious, Neptune is dissolving power, and Pluto is regenerating power.”
“I remember you going over that.”
“You have all three in your birth chart, so you will be fully prepared for what’s to come.”
“Does my chart tell you what that is?”
“A birth chart is the symbolic macrocosmic representation of the potential fullness of the perfected microcosm. It is the blueprint of the complete man. It is, therefore, nothing but a set of potentialities, and it defines by implication everything that could possibly be formed by macrocosmic factors. It is purely symbolic. It indicates nothing factual, nothing concrete, nothing precisely fated; it outlines what would be if the personality matured into the full likeness of the archetype. There are just potential eventualities, and the birth chart is a set of spatial factors that determine the archetypal structure or form of the whole man—if he ever becomes whole.”
“So it refers to my spiritual journey, not my physical one.”
He hesitated before answering, “Yes.”
Memphis made the decision to tell him everything—or almost everything. She told him about her visions and the horoscopes.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Well, for the past few weeks, shortly after I quit smoking.”
“Why did you quit smoking? It is wonderful you were able to do so, but I hear it’s quite difficult.”
“I only started to smoking again because of the stress of my breakup, but then I went to this….” Her voice trailed off.
He frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“This all began after my hypnotherapy session.”
“Really? Who treated you?”
“A Dr. Thompson.” She searched through her bag and handed him the card that Jill gave her.
His fingers traced the writing on the card. “Memphis, what exactly do you know about this Dr. Thompson? How did you find her?”
“A friend recommended her; she saw her for weight loss. Dr. Thompson helped her quit unwanted snacking.”
“I see. What do you recall from the session?”
“Absolutely nothing. I just remember lying back on the couch with the blindfold.”
“Blindfold? That’s strange.”
“You know, you’re not the first person to tell me that.”
“I suggest that you make another appointment with the good doctor and try to determine exactly what happened during your session.”
Memphis agreed.
“Well, I myself have an appointment I have to keep.”
“Oh, you do? I’m sorry to have kept you.”
“No, I really wanted to finally meet you. I have for some time now.”
“Since yesterday?”
“Ha, ha. Yes, yes of course. I guess it hasn’t been that long at all.”
He got up from the booth, and Memphis followed
suit. “I’m not sure I will be able to transmit any information to you this week. I brought a DVD of shows that I’ve recorded; I would like for you to watch them.”
Transmit information? What an odd choice of words. He handed her a disc. Memphis thanked him before taking it and bending over to tuck it into her purse. When she looked up, Virgil was gone.
Chapter 13
Memphis was in a hurry to get to Jill’s office and tell her about her meeting with Virgil. She didn’t even notice Lawrence walking toward her until she bumped right into him—again.
“Memphis, we really need to stop meeting like this.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked down at her with his signature dimpled smile. Her heart immediately seized up and her head began to pound. She was familiar with the phrase “lovesick,” but this was ridiculous. Her body had to stop reacting to him this way. Maybe if she kissed him a few more times—to get it out of her system, of course.
“Memphis?” His smile became mischievous. Once again it was like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“I’m sorry, but I’m on my way to meet Jill. I want to tell her about my meeting with a…um, source.” She adjusted her bag, which had flipped upside down during their collision. The folder with her research and natal chart slipped onto the hardwood floor.
“I’ll get that,” Lawrence offered.
“No, that’s fine, I’ve got it.” But he had already bent down to help.
“What is this?” he asked, picking up her chart.
“Nothing.” She snatched it from him, jumped up, and practically ran down the hallway to Jill’s office.
“Jill,” she called out breathlessly at her doorway, but no one was there.
“She isn’t here.” Lawrence stated the obvious; he was standing behind her. “I think we should go out for lunch.”
“I’m meeting Jill for lunch.”
“Jill isn’t here,” he repeated, “and I think we need to talk.”
“We do? Do you have a list of items you would like to discuss?”
“No; just one.” He waved a familiar sheet of papyrus at her.
“Hey, that belongs to me!” She couldn’t believe his nerve. How had he taken it back without her noticing? She made a move to grab the chart.
“No, actually, this belongs to me.” He unfolded his chart and handed it to her. Memphis couldn’t believe her eyes; his chart was almost identical to hers.
“So, is that a yes to lunch?” He took her silence as an agreement and took her arm to escort her out of the building.
“I was thinking Thai,” he said as they went into the elevator.
“I can’t believe it; your chart is so similar to mine!” She wondered if he too had been dealing with strange occurrences like flying in Central Park, saving old ladies, and breaking up happy couples. Probably not, but she couldn’t help hoping she had finally found someone who could empathize. “The person I met for lunch, Dr. Virgil White, explained it all to me. Have you heard of him?”
Lawrence’s face registered recognition, but then immediately went blank. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell,” he replied.
“That’s strange. Jill’s heard of him. She actually gave me one of his papers. I would have thought that you recognized the name.”
“Well, Memphis, you thought wrong. I don’t write horoscopes,” he snapped.
Memphis stared down at her soup. She’d never seen him express any type of negative emotion; he was always so jolly. So he was human after all. She hid a smile.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”
“No, I apologize. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I guess it’s just that I’m feeling the pressure from the Third Eye murders.”
“I thought you were just writing about them, not trying to solve the case.”
He looked up at her. His blue eyes were piercing. “I just feel responsible for them somehow.”
“You can’t be—not unless you’re the killer.” She laughed.
“Yes, you’re right.” He laughed too, but it seemed forced.
“Who gave you your chart? Your parents?” Memphis asked. She knew nothing about him, yet they had this important connection.
“You really don’t remember me, do you?” he asked softly.
She had no idea what he meant. “Do you mean from the party?” Or from last night? Her cheeks burned.
“No, Memphis, from the garden—the garden in the middle of the compound.”
“What garden?” She stared at him. He seemed so familiar, but she thought that was because she wanted to know him.
Suddenly, the sunlight reflected off something around his neck.
“What is that?” She reached over to touch the necklace and accidently brushed his throat. She tried to ignore the shock, but when she looked at him and their eyes met, it intensified. It was as if the air was electrified. They held each other’s gaze, and a wave of intimacy hit her.
She did know him. She looked down at the necklace; it held the same eye-shaped charm as the necklace in her box. Within the eye, she began to see a flash of pictures.
She saw herself as a little girl. Lawrence was there and they were playing some sort of game. He would leap into the air and she would follow. They were in a garden and there were other children: a very blonde boy who looked like a cherub and a wispy, dark-haired girl. The garden was very well tended; it was filled with aromatic flowers. She could actually smell them. Jasmine, she sighed.
Just then, a woman’s voice called out that it was time for dinner. Memphis recognized that voice; it was her mother. She turned to look at her, but the scene changed. She was suddenly falling. Another child was there—a boy. His screams drowned her own. She felt intense pain.
She dropped Lawrence’s necklace and held her head, trying to rub away the sensations.
“Are you all right?” He reached for her hand.
She pulled away. She was afraid to touch him again, and afraid of everything she felt. “Who are you?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off.
“Luri,” she whispered. “You are Luri.”
“Lawrence, actually, but you could never say it right when we were little, so Luri just stuck. I guess it’s fitting though, since I come from a family of gypsies.”
“Really? You’re so lucky to know so much about your family—and I guess mine, too.”
She told him about her visions and what Virgil said about her chart.
“I have psychic abilities because of this. I want to know—do you have them, too?” She mentally pleaded with him to tell her the truth.
“I do have some supernatural abilities, but they aren’t as prominent as yours. I always thought that was because I was a Gypsy. My sister and I used to play in your garden when our parents met.”
“Am I a Gypsy?”
He laughed. “No way; far from it. Your family was very powerful. My sister and I never wanted to leave whenever we came to the manor. She loved the food and your toys, and I loved—” He looked at her, but didn’t finish his sentence.
“Manor? Oh yes, on the compound.”
“Yes, Memphis, you’re a Quasar, the most enlightened and leaders of our people, The Wadjet. Your family was like royalty.”
“Oh, my God. You knew this the whole time? Why didn’t you tell me? How did you find me?”
“Whoa, so many questions. But I’m not the one to tell you.”
She got up to leave.
“Wait.” He grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Let go of me.”
“No, I’m sorry. Let me explain.”
“I said, let me go.” She stared at his hand on her arm, willing it to loosen its grip.
“Ouch. What was that?”
She looked at her arm and then his hand. She was so shocked that she sat back down. “I have no clue. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I think I might actually have super powers. They must have something to do with where I was born, or when I was born, or who my parents are
, but I have no idea. I need your help, Luri.”
He reached for her hand, but stopped to search her eyes for permission. She nodded her consent and he took her hand.
“I’m sorry; I don’t remember much, but I never forgot you. A terrible fire killed my parents, and my aunt Claudia took care of me and my sister. I don’t even remember where the manor was. I think it was in Egypt, but for some reason that doesn’t feel right. It was like no other place I’ve ever been. It was paradise. I went into journalism just so I could travel the world and search for this place.”
“So I’m Egyptian and you’re a Euro-Gypsy who was born in Egypt?” Memphis raised an eyebrow and looked at their reflection in a mirror on the other side of the room. She didn’t look Egyptian.
Lawrence grinned at her disbelief. “I’m not sure where we were born, and my aunt said that she had no idea. She believed my parents joined some sort of cult, and the last time she saw my mother, she was pregnant with my sister and me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. By the way, is your hand all right?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you for asking.” He looked down at his palm and then flipped her hand around to inspect hers.
“We’re going to have three children.”
“Pardon?”
He laughed at her confusion. “Sorry. Like I said, I come from a family of gypsies. I’ve always been able to use my sixth sense.”
“You don’t think it’s because of your chart?”
“That may have something to do with it, but my aunt explained that our family came from Egypt, but took part in the mass exodus. They went to India, Greece, and then Canada. There are three main subgroups and languages among gypsies: Domari, the Dom, of the Middle East and Eastern Europe; Lomarvren, the Lom, of Central Europe; and Romani, the Rom, of Western Europe. We claim Romani, but I suspect that there’s more to the story. Our family was always treated differently. You could say we were royalty, too—among gypsies at least.”
Written in the Sky* Rise of the Wadjet Witch Page 10