Paulo said nothing.

"Look," Gene explained. "When we were climbing the mountain, I forgot the flashlight," Gene went on. "You probably noticed that I was back at the car for quite a while. Whenever I forget something on leaving the house, I feel that my guardian angel is in action, causing me to lose a few seconds--and this short time interval may signify important things. It may allow me to avoid an accident, or cause me to run into someone I need to see.

"So, after I get what I've forgotten, I always sit down and count to twenty. That way, the angel has time to take action. An angel uses many instruments."

Gene asked Paulo to wait where he was for a few moments. He entered the trailer, and returned with a map. "The last time I saw the Valkyries, it was here."

He pointed to a place on the map. Chris realized that the animosity between the two seemed to have lessened.

"Take care of her," Gene said. "It's a good thing that she came with you."

"I think so," Paulo said. "Thank you for everything."

And they said good-bye.

"WHAT A FOOL I'VE BEEN," PAULO SAID, PUNCHING THE steering wheel as they drove away.

"What do you mean, a fool? I thought you were jealous!"

But Paulo was laughing, in a good mood.

"Four processes! And he only said three! It's through the fourth process that you converse with your angel!"

He looked at Chris, and his eyes were gleaming with the joy of discovery.

"The fourth process: channeling!"

ALMOST TEN DAYS IN THE DESERT. THEY STOPPED AT ONE place where the ground had opened in a series of wounds, as if prehistoric rivers had run through there, dozens of them, leaving long, deep arroyos that were becoming larger through the action of the sun.

In those parts, not even the scorpions could survive, much less snakes, coyotes, or the ever-present tumbleweed. The desert was full of such places, known as badlands.

The two entered into one of the immense wounds. The earthen walls were high, and all that could be seen was a tortuous path, with no beginning or end.

They were no longer irresponsible adventurers, feeling that nothing could harm them. The desert had its laws, and killed those who did not respect them. They had learned what the laws were--the sound of the rattlesnake, the hours that it was safe to be out there, the precautions. Before entering the badlands, they had left a note in the car saying where they were going. Even if it were only for half an hour, and it appeared to be unnecessary, ridiculous, a car might stop, and someone would see the note and know what direction they had taken. They had to facilitate the instruments of their guardian angels.

They were looking for the Valkyries. Not there, at the end of the world--because nothing living could survive for long in those badlands. There--well, this was just training. For Chris.

But they knew that the Valkyries were nearby, because they saw the signs. They lived in the desert, never staying for long in one place--but they left signs.

Paulo and Chris had found some clues. At the beginning, they had stopped at one small town after another, asking about the Valkyries, and no one had ever heard of them. The directions Gene had given them were of no use--they had probably long ago passed by the spot on the map he had shown them. But one day, in a bar, they met a boy who remembered having read something about them. He described the way the Valkyries dressed, and the signs they left.

They began to ask others about women who were dressed that way. Some responded with obvious disapproval, saying the Valkyries had passed by a month ago, a week ago, three days ago.

Finally, they had reached a place that seemed to be just a day's travel from where the Valkyries should be.

THE SUN WAS ALREADY NEAR THE HORIZON--OR THEY would not have risked being out in the desert. The earthen walls cast shadows. It was the perfect place.

Chris couldn't stand to repeat the whole thing yet again. But she had to--she hadn't yet achieved any meaningful results.

"Sit there. With your back to the sun."

She did as Paulo said. And then, automatically, she began to relax. She sat cross-legged, with her eyes closed--but she could feel the entire desert surrounding her.

Her soul had been swelling during these days in the desert, and she knew that her world had expanded. It was more vast than it had been two weeks earlier.

"Concentrate on your second mind," he said.

Chris sensed an inhibited tone in his voice. He could not act toward her in the same way as he did with other disciples--after all, she knew his faults and weaknesses. But Paulo made a supreme effort to act as a master would, and she respected him for that.

Tags: Paulo Coelho Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net