would rather have lifted a tree. That cross on my back had me thinking that my search for wisdom was going to be the death of me.

Looking at my surroundings, my words rang a bit hollow. The cross episode was already history, as if it had happened a long time ago and not just the previous day. It had no relation to the black marble bathroom, the warmth of the water in the hot tub, or the crystal goblet of Rioja wine that I was enjoying. I could not see Petrus, who was in his own bedroom in the luxury suite we had rented in a first-class hotel.

Why the cross? I insisted.

It wasnt easy to convince the man at the front desk that you werent a beggar, he yelled from his room.

He was changing the subject, and I knew from expe- rience that it would do no good to press the matter. I got up and put on trousers, a clean shirt, and fresh ban- dages. I had removed the old ones very carefully, expect- ing to find open wounds, but the scabs had only broken away from the skin slightly and allowed some blood to ooze out. A new scab had already formed, and I was feeling restored and happy.

We had dinner at the hotel restaurant. Petrus asked for the specialty of the house a Valencia paella which we ate in silence. After dinner, he suggested a walk.

We left the hotel and walked in the direction of the railroad station. He was in his now-habitual laconic state and said nothing throughout our entire stroll. We came to a train yard, filthy and smelling of oil, and he sat down on the steps of a gigantic locomotive.

Lets stop here, he said.

I didnt want to get oil stains on my pants, so I decided to stand. I asked him if he wouldnt prefer to walk to the main square of Ponferrada.

The Road to Santiago is about to end, said my guide, and since our reality is a lot more similar to these railroad cars, stinking of oil, than to the bucolic retreats we have encountered during our journey, it is better that todays conversation happen here.

Petrus told me to take off my sneakers and my shirt. Then he loosened the bandages on my arms, leaving them freer to move. But he left those on my hands as they were.

Dont worry, he said. You are not going to need your hands for this, at least not to hold anything.

He was more serious than usual, and his tone of voice surprised me. Something important was about to happen.

Petrus sat down again on the steps of the locomotive and looked at me for a long time. Then he said, I am

not going to say anything about yesterdays episode. You will discover for yourself what it means, and this will happen only if someday you decide to walk the Road to Rome the Road of the graces and miracles. I want to tell you just one thing: people who consider themselves to be wise are often indecisive when command is called for and rebellious when they are called upon to obey. They are ashamed to give orders and consider it dishon- orable to receive them. Dont ever be that way.

In the room, you said that the path to wisdom leads to sacrifice. That is wrong. Your learning period did not end yesterday: you still have to find your sword and learn its secret. The RAM practices allow us to engage in the good fight and to have a better chance at winning in life. The experience you had yesterday was only one of the tests along the Road it was part of the preparation for the Road to Rome. It saddens me that you thought that it might have been the death of you.

He really sounded saddened. I realized that through- out all the time we had spent together, I had always expressed doubt regarding what he was teaching me. I was not a strong, humble Castaneda receiving his teach- ings from Don Juan; I was an arrogant and fractious man in my approach to the simple RAM practices. I wanted to say this to Petrus, but I knew that it was too late.

Close your eyes, Petrus said. Do the RAM Breathing Exercise, and try to harmonize yourself with this iron, this machinery, and this smell of oil. This is our world.

You should open your eyes only when I have completed teaching you an exercise.

I closed my eyes, concentrated on the RAM breath- ing, and felt my body begin to relax. I could hear the noises of the city, some dogs barking in the distance, and the sound of voices in argument not far from where we were. Suddenly, I began to hear Petruss voice singing an Italian song recorded by Pepino Di Capri that had been a hit when I was a teenager. I didnt understand the words, but the melody brought back happy memo- ries and helped me to reach a state of tranquillity.

Some time ago, he began, when he had stopped singing, as I was working on a project that I had to deliver to the mayors office in Milan, I received a mes- sage from my Master. Someone had gone all the way to the end of the road of the Tradition and had not received his sword. I was supposed to guide him along the Road to Santiago.

I was not surprised at this: I had been expecting such a summons at any time, because I had not yet paid my dues. I had to guide a pilgrim along the Milky Way, just as I had once been guided. But I was nervous because it was the first and only time that I would do this, and I did not know how to carry out my mission.

Petruss words really surprised me. I thought that he had been a guide dozens of times.

You came here, and I guided you, he continued. I must confess that in the beginning it was very hard,

because you were much more interested in the intellec- tual implications of the teachings than in the true meaning of the Road the Road of the common people. After the encounter with Alfonso, we developed a much stronger, more intense relationship, and I began to believe that I would be able to teach you the secret of your sword. But this did not happen, and now you will have to learn it for yourself during the little time you have left.

This conversation was making me nervous, and I was losing my concentration on the RAM Breathing Exercise. Petrus must have noticed, because he began to sing the song again and stopped only when I was once again relaxed.

If you discover the secret and find your sword, you will also discover the face of RAM, and you will have the power. But that is not all: in order to achieve total wisdom, you will have to walk the other three Roads, including the secret one, and the secret Road will not be revealed to you, even by someone who has walked it. I am telling you this because we are going to see each other only one more time.

My heart stopped, and involuntarily, I opened my eyes. Petrus was glowing with the kind of brilliance I had only seen around my Master.

Close your eyes! he barked, and I immediately obeyed. But I was very upset, and I could not concen- trate anymore. My guide started to sing the Italian song again, and only after a while was I able to relax.

Tomorrow you are going to receive a note telling you where I am. I will be at a group initiation, a ritual of honor in the Tradition. It is a ritual in honor of all of the men and women who, down through the centuries, have helped to keep alive the flame of wisdom, of the good fight, and of agape. You will not be able to speak to me. The place where we will meet is secret. It is bathed in the blood of all those who have walked the road of the Tradition and who, even with their swords sharpened, were unable to brighten the darkness. But their sacrifice was not in vain, and the proof that it was not is that, centuries later, those who have walked dif- ferent roads will be there to pay them tribute. This is important, and you should never forget it: even if you become a Master, you have to realize that your road is only one of many that lead to God. Jesus once said, In my Fathers house, there are many mansions.

Petrus repeated that after tomorrow, I would not see him again.

On some future day, you will receive a message from me, asking you to lead someone along the Road to Santiago, just as I have led you. Then you will be able to experience the great secret of the journey a secret that I am going to reveal to you now, but only through words. It is a secret that has to be experienced to be under- stood.

There was a prolonged silence. I began to think that he had changed his mind or that he had left the train yard. I felt an enormous desire to open my eyes to see

what was happening, but I forced myself to concentrate on the RAM breathing.

The secret is the following, Petrus said. You can learn only through teaching. We have been together here on the Road to Santiago, but while you were learn- ing the practices, I learned the meaning of them. In teaching you, I truly learned. By taking on the role of guide, I was able to find my own true path.

If you succeed in finding your sword, you will have to teach the Road to someone else. And only when that happens when you accept your role as a Master will you learn all the answers you have in your heart. Each of us knows the answers, even before someone tells us what they are. Life teaches us lessons every minute, and the secret is to accept that only in our daily lives can we show ourselves to be as wise as Solomon and as power- ful as Alexander the Great. But we become aware of this only when we are forced to teach others and to partici- pate in adventures as extravagant as this one has been.

I was hearing the most unexpected farewell in my life. The person with whom I had had the most intense bond was saying good-bye right there in midjourney in an oily- smelling train yard, with me forced to keep my eyes closed.

I dont like saying good-bye, Petrus continued. I am Italian, and I am very emotional. But according to the law of the Tradition, you must find your sword alone. This is the only way that you will believe in your own power. I have passed on to you everything that I have to give. The only thing left is the Dance Exercise, which I

am going to teach you now; you should perform it tomorrow at the ritual.

He was silent for a while, and then he spoke:

May that which is glorified be glorified in the Lord. You may open your eyes.

Petrus was still sitting on the locomotive. I did not want to say anything, because I am Brazilian and also emotional. The mercury lamp providing us with light began to flutter, and a train whistled in the distance, announcing its next stop.

It was then that Petrus taught me the Dance Exercise.

One more thing, he said, looking deeply into my eyes. When I completed my pilgrimage, I painted a beautiful, immense picture that depicted everything that had happened to me here. This is the Road of the common people, and you can do the same thing, if you like. If you dont know how to paint, write something, or create a ballet. Then, regardless of where they are, people will be able to walk the Jacobean route, the Milky Way, the Strange Road to Santiago.

The train that had sounded its whistle began to enter the station. Petrus waved to me and disappeared between the parked railroad cars. I stood there amid the noise of brakes screeching on steel, trying to decipher the mysterious Milky Way over my head, those stars that had guided me here and that had silently watched over the loneliness and destiny of all human beings.

Next day, there was just a note left in my room: 7:00 p.m. CASTLE OF THE TEMPLARS.