Ch. 2
Morgan paced in the front foyer, grinding her teeth. Uncle Strange wasn't home and she needed to get to her workshop. She'd had an epiphany and she needed to test it out. She'd written the details down, but they weren't enough. She needed to get her hands on the jet stabilizers to test her theory.
"Are you sure you can't take me to my workshop?" She demanded, rounding on Wong. The man gave her peaceful eyes and shook his head.
"I must be able to visualize a place to put a portal there. Strange has never taken me to your workshop."
Morgan threw up her hands and took another turn around the foyer.
"That doesn't make sense. I know you can portal to other dimensions. You can't, exactly, walk there to get a visual before building a portal."
Wong narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you know that?"
Morgan huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm a kid, not an idiot. Uncle Strange said he stepped out of time to do research for mom's cancer. That has to be another dimension, not exactly a place he could get to without a portal. But you didn't answer my question."
"You didn't ask one," Wong replied with a stony look.
Morgan rolled her eyes.
"Fine. If you have to visualize a place to portal there, how do you visualize other dimensions that you can't get to without a portal?"
A smile twitched at the corner of Wong's mouth but he got it under control quickly.
"We don't teach the secrets of the mystic arts to the uninitiated. They're called secrets for a reason."
Morgan clenched her fists, sorely tempted to punch him. Her face screwed up in a caricature of frustrated anger. She looked a little like a constipated poodle. The smile at the corner of Wong's mouth twitch again and finally won out. He cracked up, managing to infuriate Morgan even further. With a low growl, she stalked toward him, hands in fists at her sides.
Wong smirked, swung his hands in a double arc and slammed his palms into her chest. She started to bring her arms up to block him, but she never felt the blow fall. The world tumbled around her, spinning end over end until she came to a stop…five feet above and behind her physical body.
He had set her on her ass, but caught the front of her shirt to keep her head from hitting the floor. Settling her body to the ground, Wong looked up at her and smiled.
"Astral projection allows us to go anywhere. The portal is for the physical realm. The astral realm crosses all dimensions."
Morgan stared around her in wonder. She could see the walls of the sanctum, but she could see beyond them, too. It wasn't just New York outside those walls. She saw galaxies and the individual atoms that created them. Realities layered upon one another like sediment rock that could come apart and back together like legos. Galaxies split and duplicated, spiraling together in ever-growing fractals. They made the most beautiful patterns she had ever seen.
"Enough of that." Something grabbed her, jerked her back and she found herself rushing down, down, down. How had she gotten so far away? It felt like less than the blink of an eye.
Her body rushed up to meet her at an unfathomable speed and she slammed into it with a gasp. Returning to the physical world felt like hitting the water from a twenty foot cliff. It hurt and she felt heavy. So heavy. The scent of lemon furniture polish and incense curled into her sinuses and she sneezed.
Blearily, she looked up into Uncle Strange's glaring eyes. They were blue. She'd never noticed before and couldn't explain why she noticed, now.
"What were you thinking, Wong? You could have lost her."
Wong shrugged.
"She wanted to know how we see other realms to build a portal there. I showed her. I knew you could bring her back if she wandered off."
Uncle Strange narrowed his eyes at his friend, but his arrogance forced him to acknowledge the man was right. He shrugged in begrudging acknowledgement.
"I want to learn how to do that," Morgan breathed, her eyes wide. "Please? I wouldn't have to wait for you to come home to go to my workshop. You can teach me to portal and to…do that, right? The astral thing?"
Uncle Strange turned his narrowed eyes on her. He searched her face and she felt like his glare could vivisect her on the spot if he so wished.
"Why?"
"I told you. So I can get to my workshop on my own."
"No one seeks the mystic arts for travel. Why?"
Morgan looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with that piercing glare.
"I saw…I saw everything. It was beautiful. The world made chaotic sense for a moment. I want…I want to study that. I want to see it again. I want to explore it. I want to understand it."
Wong laughed. "No one understands all of reality. That would take a god."
"I can try." Morgan turned earnest, almost pleading eyes on Wong. He frowned. Most people either forgot or broke down when exposed to the complexities of the astral plane. It could drive a man mad. He had seen it happen. A small dip like she'd had wouldn't leave much lasting damage, but most people wouldn't want to do it again. Some deeply embedded survival instinct drove them to avoid the madness lurking on the astral plane. It took a strong will to keep that madness at bay.
"What's the youngest anyone has been initiated into the mystic arts?" Uncle Strange asked.
"Uh. The youngest I've heard of was fourteen," Wong said, giving him a censoring look. "He died, lost on the astral plane."
Morgan didn't even flinch. She stared up at Uncle Strange with drowning brown eyes. Just like her father's.
"Come to the second floor workroom tomorrow, after lunch."
Wong frowned.
"I don't think that's…"
"Any of your business," Uncle Strange interrupted him. The two men locked eyes in a battle of wills. Morgan pressed her lips together, rolling them between her front teeth. She felt like her whole future rested on this moment, this decision, this dispute. She couldn't say why, but she needed to learn to return to that place, that state of existence. She needed it like breathing. The tension between the two sorcerers sparked in the air like a metal pole just before a lightning strike. It felt like the world held its breath.
Wong looked away first. Uncle Strange blinked and the tension vanished.
"This is on your head," Wong muttered. He glanced at Morgan, shook his head and left.
"Thank you Uncle Strange!"
Uncle Strange gave her another piercing look, then shook his head.
"We'll see if you're still thanking me, tomorrow." He turned in a swirl of his cloak and stalked toward the stairs.
Morgan went back to her room, grinning, her epiphany completely forgotten.
"So, you want to learn the mystic arts, do you?"
Morgan nodded with a determined crease between her brows. She spread her feet a little, rocking onto the balls of her feet as though in preparation for a blow. A small smile tugged at the corner of Strange's cheek.
"To access the mystic arts, you must elevate your mind. The gestures are little more than window dressing. They help the mind follow familiar pathways, to lend strength to the mind, but they are useless on their own. To begin, you must learn to clear your mind of all distractions."
The girl frowned, glaring up at him.
"How do I do that? My mind is always going."
"Meditation," Strange said with a sadistic, entirely too pleased smile. Morgan deflated in front of him.
"You're kidding, right?"
He shook his head.
"I'm pretty sure I have ADD so clearing my mind is impossible."
"You don't have ADD," Strange said with a low chuckle. "Your mother had you tested. Many times."
Morgan's shoulders slumped. For a moment, Strange thought she might give up on the idea and was surprised by a sudden spurt of disappointment. With a dawning sense of wonder, he realized he wanted to teach her. He wanted to see how far she would progress. He hoped she might be a little like him in her desire to master the unknown.
For a moment, the girl stared at the floor between them. With a sigh, she lifted her head and glared at him with a stubborn set to her brow that combined her mother's and father's features into her own brand of obstinance. Squaring her shoulders, she said, "Teach me."
Strange's grin looked as much like a baring of teeth as a genuine smile. It was equal parts sinister and joyous. Morgan matched it with one of her own.
Two hours later, Morgan regretted her obstinance, but she dared not admit it. Uncle Strange floated in his own version of a lotus pose, eyes closed, drifting up and down like a fishing bobber on a lake. The lines in his forehead had smoothed out and she might have thought he was dreaming by the rapid eye movements under his eyelids, until he spoke.
"Your eyes aren't even closed, Morgan."
Morgan sighed and dropped her hands from her knees to the ground.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Strange. Every time I try to empty my mind, something else creeps in." Uncle Strange opened one eye, his brow creasing into a glare. Morgan looked at the floor.
The Sorcerer Supreme floated to the floor and sighed, getting to his feet with a cat-like grace.
"It took me weeks to acknowledge the existence of spirit and, subsequently, magic. It isn't just clearing your mind or concentrating. You must believe in the power."
"I believe," Morgan protested, standing. "I've seen you do magic so many times. How could I not believe in it?"
"That's not enough." Uncle Strange reached out and touched her breastbone. "You must believe, here, that you can touch the power as well."
Morgan looked down at his scarred fingers and knew that was the problem. Of course Uncle Strange could do magic. He was the Sorcerer Supreme. He lived and breathed the power of other dimensions. She was just Morgan. Just a kid. Just a…
"Genius," Uncle Strange said and Morgan scowled up at him.
"You can read minds?"
"Of course I can, but I didn't. I read your face. You are not ordinary, Morgan. You are the child of two extraordinary people and you've inherited what made them extraordinary. What you do with your gifts remains to be seen, but never doubt that you are capable of anything you set your mind to."
Morgan bit her lip and glared at her hands. "Then why can't I do this?"
"Maybe you're doing it wrong." Uncle Strange turned at Wong's voice coming from the doorway. He held a bo staff in each hand and wore a gi instead of robes. "You know not everyone finds peace through sitting still. Not without exhaustion, first."
He tossed one of the staves to Uncle Strange. Strange caught it, lifted an eyebrow, but then nodded.
"It's worth a try and she needs to learn the martial arts as well."
"Wait. What?" Morgan scowled at them both. She thought she knew what they were talking about, but physical activity was not her favorite. She felt much more accomplished on a computer keyboard than any sports team in existence. Uncle Strange gave her a sadistic grin.
"Martial arts, Morgan. I had intended to teach you, eventually, but Wong has a point. Exhausting the body helps isolate and elevate the mind."
Morgan groaned, wondering if it was worth it. Did she want to learn the mystic arts that badly? Although, it sounded like they intended to do this to her even if she didn't learn the mystic arts. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.
Another three hours later, her first lesson in martial arts ended, not because they stopped for a meal or anything half that nice. They stopped because Morgan's legs collapsed under her, so weary she couldn't stay standing. Uncle Strange stood over her, not a hair out of place. That was either magic or really, really good hair gel. Morgan was betting on the hair gel.
"You're out of shape," Uncle Strange said, handing his bo staff to Wong. Morgan tried to move and her body rebelled.
"I don't think I've ever been IN shape," she said, staring at the ceiling, arms splayed. A muscle twitched in her side, but she couldn't summon the energy to shift her position. Uncle Strange settled into a cross leg pose on the ground next to her.
"Stamina will come with time and repetition. For now, close your eyes."
Morgan did so, gratefully.
"Now, clear your mind."
That part wasn't so easy. Even exhausted, she couldn't shut down every thought, as much as she wanted to. She grit her teeth and scrunched up her face. Every time she thought she might have it, she thought about almost having it and there she was, thinking again.
"Stop concentrating and relax," said Uncle Strange.
"Easy for you to say," Morgan muttered, but she tried. She thought about her exhausted muscles and summoned the energy to shift so that the muscle in her side would stop twinging. She consciously relaxed her legs and arms, realized her stomach was tight and relaxed that. She felt her fingers resting against the polished wood floor and felt the exercise heat leaching out of her body into that floor through her back, her legs, her arms. She drifted and the exhaustion was like a warm bath, buoying her away from physical sensation…away from everything.
"Good." The approving and surprised lilt in Uncle Strange's voice almost brought her out of it, but he went on before a thought could form. "Now, look into the darkness behind your eyes. Scientists think the static you see there is just the brain trying to interpret darkness, but it's actually the barest edge of the energies that cross between dimensions. Everyone can see the energies, but most don't know what they're seeing or how to look deeper and don't want to try. Push yourself into the darkness there, into the static. Look for it. Expect it to make sense. Your will molds it the same way hands mold clay."
Her brow furrowed and she almost lost the peace, the disconnect, the warm, floating feeling before the staticky chaos behind her eyes began to form lines and then shapes. What had been two dimensional gained depth and spread out in an infinite network of cord and rope, rivers and streams. The lines and loops glowed in purple and green, gold and red, a rainbow of shimmering energy.
"Is this the astral plane?" she whispered, staring around her in awe.
"No. This is the energy that ties all reality together. These are the pathways that allow power to travel from one dimension to another. This is the web of vitality that supports the existence of all life. Without this, we are just a massive cluster of atoms with no sentience and no sapience. This is spirit and it can take you to the astral plane, or just about anywhere else you want to go. Once you learn to manipulate it."
Morgan blinked and the lines and loops vanished. She hadn't meant to blink. She hadn't meant to lose that floating, warm, disconnected feeling. She came to herself, expecting Uncle Strange to be upset that she had broken the trance, but he smiled with approval.
"That's good for a first day. You've seen the unseeable. Tomorrow, we will work on touching it."
He rose to his feet and clapped his hands. "Wong! What's for dinner?"
"It's your night to cook!" Wong's voice drifted from the direction of the library.
"Take out it is," Uncle Strange said, pulling a wad of cash out of mid-air. Morgan knew he didn't have to do it that way. He had credit cards that somehow managed to stay paid up, but he did like to show off.
"I vote for pizza!" Morgan said, trying to sit up. Until that moment, she had forgotten her exhaustion. She rose about three inches and groaned as every muscle in her body protested. "On the floor. Pizza on the floor," she amended, collapsing backward again.
Tea, time and food restored her enough to stumble to her room. That night, she slept like the dead. The only dream she remembered was a curious argument between Wong and Uncle Strange about how he was teaching her. It wasn't the normal way and Wong feared she would stumble onto something she couldn't handle. Uncle Strange just looked mysterious and told him everything would be fine.