The Intuitives(74)

“He conquered Persia for the Greeks in something like three hundred BC, more or less,” Sam offered.

“He was a brilliant strategist,” Mackenzie chimed in. “They still teach him in military history, even today.”

“Excellent!” Ammu agreed. “History remembers him as a conqueror, but he was much more than that. Persian mythology of Alexander’s day describes a vast, spiritual realm made up of both light and dark forces that had claimed our own world as its battlefield. There were good spirits and bad, as well as a whole host of marvelous animals and even plants that could fight for the forces of life or death, depending on which side controlled them.”

At these words, Daniel and Kaitlyn shared a surreptitious glance over Sketch’s head, remembering the gryphon in the workshop.

“This spiritual world was invisible to most people, but Alexander had been a student of Aristotle, who had taught him to master the pathways of his mind. As a result, he could see that these myths were more than just stories. There was a great war between good and evil taking place all around him, and he vowed, when he succeeded his father to the throne as a young man, that he would fight here in our world with the forces of good, taking back those lands in which evil had been winning the battle, unbeknownst to most of mankind.

“He learned how to summon the forces of good to aid him, and he taught others to do so as well—to see through the eyes of the unconscious mind. These men became his most trusted generals. Together, they held the forces of darkness at bay, not only in Greece and Persia but throughout as much of the ancient world as they could protect. Unfortunately, Alexander died while he was still relatively young. Without his leadership, the forces of darkness pushed back against his army, exploiting the weaknesses within his generals to turn them against each other, creating a rash of civil wars that threatened to tear apart all that he had built.

“But Alexander’s true mission had had nothing to do with conquering lands or expanding the Greek empire. He had dedicated himself in every spare moment, in every brief respite during the war he was waging against the forces of darkness, to divining the ultimate weapon he needed to end the war once and for all: the secret to banishing all the invisible spirits, both good and bad, back to their own world. The forces of darkness ended his life, but not before he had completed his work and shared it, cautiously, with only the most trusted of all his generals.”

With these words, Ammu reached into his satchel and produced his leather-bound book. He opened it to a spot near the back and pulled out several photographs, which he handed to Mackenzie. Glancing through them, she saw a myriad of statues—some of real animals and others of strange, mythological creatures—engaged in battle throughout a cavernous space, with what looked like an Egyptian pyramid in its center.

Not wanting to miss what he was saying, she handed the photos to Sketch, who pored over each one for a long time. When he came to the photograph of the seal on the tomb itself, his eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced up at Ammu to the symbol that glowed over his heart. It was, indeed, one and the same. He chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, deciding to go through all the photos again before finally handing them on to Daniel.

“These generals took his body from its resting place and secreted it away,” Ammu continued, “hiding it from all the world. They buried him in a sacred tomb, concealing it within an ancient Zoroastrian temple that had long been abandoned, and there, they performed the ritual he had taught them just before his death, sealing the rift between the worlds, so that no summoner, no matter how great, could again bridge the gap between this world and the other, for as long as the seal remained unbroken.

“The generals then went their separate ways, swearing each other to secrecy, but each promised to protect the knowledge, should it ever again be needed, by teaching this history—along with the ancient secrets of the true summoners—to a single, trusted member of the next generation. Sometimes this would be a son or daughter, sometimes a niece or nephew, sometimes a promising student of no blood relation at all, but always only one, who would, in turn, promise to do the same.

“Over the centuries, some of these lines of knowledge have been cut short, their keepers having departed unexpectedly from this life before their great secret could be passed on. I do not know of any others besides myself who remain, but there may well be a few, scattered throughout the world. How many, I have no way of knowing. It is not as though we advertise.”

He smiled when he said this—his usual, humble smile—and Mackenzie realized with a start how badly he had been wanting to tell them what he was finally telling them now.

“Seven years ago, after more than two millennia, a team of archaeologists discovered the tomb of Alexander the Great, buried deep beneath what is today an Islamic mosque—the mosque, in turn, having been built many centuries ago atop the site of the ancient Zoroastrian temple. Without understanding the implications of their actions, they broke the seal, enabling the ancient rituals of summoning to be completed successfully once again.”

Sam looked down at her hands and then shared a brief glance with Kaitlyn before pointedly looking away.

“Unfortunately, as you can see from the video, the rituals can be used for devastating results. Whether the knowledge has been retained by another line of descent from those ancient generals, or whether there exists a Zoroastrian sect which has also managed to protect these secrets across the centuries, or whether the process is simply being rediscovered by those who possess the strongest of pathways between the conscious and the unconscious mind, I do not know.