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Now it was too late. She had to allow her second mind to recite its boring problems. To voice the same concerns, over and over. Her second mind that night wanted to get at her heart. It was saying she had chosen the wrong path, and had found her true destiny only when she had experimented with the Valhalla character.
It was telling her that it was too late to change, that her life had been a failure, that she would spend the rest of her life following her husband--without experiencing the pleasures of the dark forest and the taking of prisoners.
It was telling her she had chosen the wrong husband--that she would have been better off marrying a farmer-type. It was telling her that Paulo had other women, and that those women were hunter-types that he met on the night of the full moon, and at secret magic rituals. It was telling her that she should leave him, so that he could be happy with a woman who was his equal.
She argued several times--saying that it wasn't important that she knew there were other women, that she wouldn't leave him on that account. Because love isn't logical or rational. But her second mind came back at her--so she decided not to argue. She would just listen quietly until the conversation went silent and died out.
Then a kind of fog began to envelop her thinking. The channeling had begun. An indescribable sensation of peace took hold of her, as if the wings of her angel were covering the entire desert, preventing anything bad from happening. Whenever she did her channeling, she felt a great love for herself and for the universe.
She kept her eyes open, so as not to lose her awareness, but the cathedrals began to appear. They emerged, enveloped in mist, immense churches she had never visited, but that existed somewhere in the world. During her early days of channeling, she'd had only confused impressions, indigenous songs blending with meaningless words; but now her angel was showing her cathedrals. That seemed to make some sort of sense, although she couldn't quite understand it.
In the beginning, they had only been trying to begin a conversation. With each day that passed, she was able to understand her angel better. Soon, there would be a level of communication as clear as the one she enjoyed with anyone who spoke her own language. It was only a matter of time.
THE ALARM ON PAULO'S WATCH SOUNDED. TWENTY MINUTES had passed. The channeling was over.
She looked at him, knowing what was going to happen now. He would sit there without saying a word, sad and disappointed. His angel hadn't appeared. They would return to the small motel in Ajo, and he would take a walk while she tried to sleep.
She waited until he stood, and then stood up, as well. But there was a strange gleam in his eye.
"I will see my angel," he said. "I know I will. I made the bet."
"The bet, you will have to make with your angel," Valhalla had said. She had never said, "The bet, you will have to make with your angel, when he appears." Yet, that's what Paulo had understood her to mean. He had waited for an entire week for his angel to appear. He was ready to make any bet, because the angel was the light, and the light was what justified human existence. He trusted in that light, in the same way that, fourteen years earlier, he had doubted the darkness. In contrast with the traitorous experience with the darkness, the light established its rules beforehand--so that whoever accepted them was knowingly committing to love and compassion.
He had already met two of the three conditions, and almost failed with regard to the third--the simplest of them! But his angel's protection had prevailed, and, during the channeling...ah, how good it was to have learned to converse with the angels! Now he knew that he would be able to see his angel, because he had met the third condition.
"I broke a pact. I accepted forgiveness. And, today, I made a bet. I have faith, and I believe," he said. "I believe that Valhalla knows the method for seeing one's angel."
Paulo's eyes were shining. There would be no nocturnal walks, no insomnia tonight. He was absolutely certain that he was going to see his angel. Half an hour ago, he had asked for a miracle--but that was no longer important.
So that night it would be Chris's turn to be sleepless, and to walk the deserted streets of Ajo, imploring God to make a miracle, because the man she loved needed to see his angel. Her heart was squeezed more tightly than ever. Perhaps she preferred a Paulo who was in doubt. A Paulo who needed a miracle. A Paulo who appeared to have lost his faith. If his angel appeared, fine; if not, he could always blame Valhalla for having erred in her teaching. That way, he would not have to learn the most bitter lesson that God taught, when he closed the gates to paradise: the lesson of disappointment.
But instead, here was a man who seemed to have bet his life against the certainty that angels could be seen. And his only guarantee was the word of a woman who rode the desert, speaking of new worlds to come.
Perhaps Valhalla had never even seen an angel. Or maybe what worked for her didn't work for others--hadn't Paulo said that? Maybe he hadn't heeded his own words.
Chris's heart grew smaller and smaller as she saw the light in Paulo's eyes.
And at that moment, his entire face began to glow.
"Light!" he screamed. "Light!"
She turned. On the horizon, near where the first star had appeared, three lights shone in the sky.
"Light!" he said again. "The angel!"
Chris had a strong desire to kneel down and give thanks, because her prayer had been answered, and God had sent his army of angels.
Paulo's eyes filled with tears. The miracle had happened. He had made the right bet.
They heard a roar to their left, and another over their heads. Now there were five, six lights gleaming in the sky; the desert was alight.
For a moment she lost her voice. She, too, was seeing his angel! The bursts o
f sound were becoming stronger and stronger, passing to the left, passing to the right, over their heads, wild thunderbursts that didn't come from the sky, but from behind, from the side--and moved toward where the lights were.
The Valkyries! The true Valkyries, daughters of Wotan, galloping across the sky, carrying their warriors! She blocked her ears in fear.
She saw that Paulo was doing the same--but his eyes appeared to have lost their brilliance.
