"Katherine Kurtz - Adept 02 - The Lodge of the Lynx" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

to reassure her enough to elicit a smile. "I've never yet bitten a patient on the neck."
At her startled look, he smiled gently and continued. "Seriously, the procedure is perfectly safe, and quite
clinical. You will always remain in control. My own function is merely that of guide. Christopher will be here
the entire time. He can even hold your hand, if you like."
Despite an obvious effort not to, Helena did allow a brief, self-conscious smile to flicker on her lips.
"I - I see," she murmured. "I suppose I'm being silly, to be so frightened." Her blue eyes shifted uncertainly to
Peregrine, hovering uncomfortably in the background. "Are you a psychiatrist, too?" she asked.
"No, I - "
"Mr. Lovat is an artist," Adam interposed easily. "He's assisted me before. He has a gift for translating
psychic impressions into concrete images. And there's nothing at all silly about being frightened. But once
you understand what's frightening you, I think you'll find that you aren't frightened anymore. Again with your
permission, I should like Mr. Lovat to make sketches as you narrate the events in your dreams."
"Father Houston?" Helena turned appealingly to Christopher, who gave her an encouraging pat on the
shoulder.
"Wouldn't have brought them, if I didn't think they could help," he told her firmly. "Think you might be willing to
give it a try?"
Helena swallowed hard, then gave an affirmative nod. "All right," she said tremulously. She squared her
shoulders and transferred her attention to Adam. "I've never been hypnotised before, Dr. Sinclair. What do you
want me to do?"
Adam had already made a survey of the room. It was cosily furnished, its old-fashioned cast-iron fireplace
tastefully altered to accommodate a modern gas fire. The glow from the grating reflected warmly off the
flowered print upholstery of an overstuffed three-piece suite arranged around the hearth. The assortment of
small ornaments in the room included half a dozen small crystal prisms strung up across the right-hand
window on transparent strands of nylon thread.
"First of all," he said, "I suggest we all make ourselves comfortable. May I call you Helena?"
"Yes, of course."
"Thank you. Then perhaps you'd care to take a seat in that armchair to the right of the fireplace, Helena, and
I'll ask for the loan of one of these lovely prisms in the window. Yes, this should do very nicely."
Watching as Adam set the stage for the work he was about to do, Peregrine was reminded of his own initial
experience with hypnosis. Like Helena Pringle, he had been bedeviled by fears and spectres - until Adam had
helped him discern the gift beneath his fears. He hoped that Helena's case would end as happily as his own.
Carrying the prism by its nylon thread, Adam brought it back from the windowframe and hung it temporarily
over a candlestick on the mantel, so that it dangled over the edge and could catch the light.
"Now, we'll just draw the inner curtains to filter out some of the light," he said, heading back to the windows.
"You'll find it much easier to relax with the lighting a bit more subdued."
Helena watched him closely, her manner stiff with shrinking uneasiness, and Christopher moved closer on the
adjacent settee.
"There, there," he murmured. "Nothing to be afraid of, I promise you. Here - hold my hand, if it will make you
feel better."
He reached out and took one of Helena's small, tense hands firmly between his own. When her fingers
tightened on his, he moved closer yet, so that they were almost touching knee to knee.
Peregrine, meanwhile, had selected a straight-backed chair between the windows, where he knew the light
would be best for sketching. It would also put him outside Helena's peripheral vision, and therefore less likely
to distract her. He sat down and was just arranging his sketchbook and pencils when something about
Christopher's apparently casual double handclasp with Helena struck him as being somehow significant.
He took a closer look. Then his gaze focused sharply on the priest's right hand. The ring had not been there
before - Peregrine was certain he would have noticed. The gold-set sapphire was square-cut rather than oval
like those Adam and McLeod sometimes wore, and somewhat smaller, but Peregrine suddenly had no doubt
that the ring served the same purpose.
Good God, he's one of them! Peregrine thought, hardly knowing whether to be scandalized or impressed by