A Faerie's Curse (Creepy Hollow #6) by Rachel Morgan Page B

ready to begin?” she asks as I sit.
    â€œYes.” I try to clear my mind of all worries and distracting thoughts as I close my eyes.
    â€œBreathe in through your nose,” Lumethon instructs. “Feel the air rushing into your body, feel it filling your lungs and expanding your chest. Now exhale, slowly, through your mouth, releasing all tension as you do so. And again, listening to the gentle movement of the water, slowly inhale. Focus on the air entering your body, filling you anew. Now release your breath and picture your lake, the place of relaxation you’ve chosen.”
    I reach my imaginary peaceful setting quickly now that I’ve done this several times. It’s a version of the lake outside Chase’s home in the human realm. A wide expanse of water stretches out before me, gentle waves lap at the shore of the lake, a carpet of lush grass is wonderfully soft beneath me, and a clear blue sky finishes the picture.
    â€œNow that you’ve reached a relaxed state,” Lumethon says, “think of your list. We’re moving on to a scenario that produces a medium level of anxiety. Imagine yourself in that situation for as long as you can.”
    Doing my best to hold onto my sense of calm, I imagine myself standing and walking away from the lake. The scene melts away to reveal the lowest level within Gaius’s mountain home. The level where gargoyles and other creatures are kept. It begins with a small room with rough stone walls and a narrow slit of space in one corner. A tunnel so narrow I’ve never been brave enough to go through. I take in another slow breath as I picture myself approaching that horribly narrow tunnel. My heart rate kicks up a notch, but I focus on the soothingly repetitive water sounds as I keep moving forward. Breathe , I remind myself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I walk closer. I place my hands on the wall on either side of the dark space and stare into it. The tunnel is narrow enough that it might touch my shoulders if I were to enter it, and so dark that I have no way of seeing the other side. But despite the fact that my heart is jumping faster than normal, I don’t feel overcome by panic. I take one step into the tunnel, then another. The darkness grows around me, pressing in, and that’s when I shake my head, shudder, and open my eyes.
    â€œI can’t go into the tunnel yet,” I tell Lumethon, looking around and finding her leaning against the wall between two paintings. “I was almost there. I planned to go inside and the thought didn’t freak me out, but I couldn’t actually do it.”
    â€œI know. You were projecting again. I saw everything.”
    â€œNot again,” I say with a groan. “I told you this would be a problem. I can’t keep control of my ability because I’m too relaxed.”
    â€œThat’s fine, Calla. The point here is to get over your anxiety. Once you reach that point, you’ll be able to face these kinds of situations while retaining control of your projections. And you’ve already shown improvement,” she adds with a smile. “When we did this two days ago, you didn’t want to even approach the tunnel.”
    I nod. “True. It is getting a bit easier.”
    â€œGood. Now close your eyes, re-establish a relaxed state of mind, and go through the process again, imagining the same situation.”
    â€œOkay, but you’ll watch the door, right? I mean, in case I project again, which I probably will.”
    â€œI’ve had a shield across the door the entire time. You needn’t worry about anyone walking in.”
    I repeat the exercise, approaching the tunnel quicker this time, my anxiety only spiking once I’m actually inside the dark, tight space. I try to push myself further, to remain in the tunnel for more than two or three seconds, but the fear of something pressing in around me—touching me, suffocating