***
Ran-Del hesitated, not knowing what his role would be. His grandfather directed him to sit on the floor next to his great-grandfather and across from Doan. Ran-Del was nervous; no one had ever asked him to participate in a seeing before. He darted a quick glance at Francesca on her bench. She had come after all. No one would ever call her shy.
Isayah knelt by the brazier and carefully placed several sticks of dark blue medicine wood on the fire. After a few seconds, an acrid odor pervaded the room, and then a murky blue smoke slowly filled the air. Ran-Del could feel a faint, light-headed sense of disorientation, as if he weren’t quite stable on the ground and might float off of it at any moment. He leaned back, trying to avoid the smoke as much as he could.
Ji-Ran stirred, turning his head to glance at Ran-Del with an unfocused gaze.
Isayah came up beside Ran-Del and added another stick to the fire. He put one hand on Ran-Del’s shoulder. “Relax.”
Ran-Del tried to comply. No one had said to use any of the Disciplines, so he was reluctant to invoke them.
“Don’t attempt to meditate,” Isayah said. “Just try not to be so tense.”
Ran-Del tried to make himself relax. He took a deep breath, but the smoke made him choke. Ran-Del coughed and turned his head away from the fire.
Isayah turned and looked at his father. Then he sighed and moved his hand so that it gripped the back of Ran-Del’s neck. He pushed hard, and Ran-Del found himself bent almost over the fire, unable to escape the acrid fumes of the medicine wood. He thought for just one second about pulling out of his grandfather’s grip, but dismissed the idea. Isayah would never hurt him.
The fumes made Ran-Del dizzy, and the room spun around him. After a few moments, he felt himself slipping away from reality, drifting away from the room and the fire. He couldn’t feel his grandfather’s hand on his neck, or the carpet under him. He lost all sense of himself and where he was, all sense of time and place. He struggled to anchor himself, to find something to which he could tether his being. There was nothing. A tide of incoherent sounds, diffuse odors, and blurred images swept him away.
The Sixth Discipline Page 33