The Intuitives(94)
“We learned I was right,” Sam commented. “They do eat bullets for breakfast. Fun fact.”
The students sat around Ammu in the exercise room on the blue mat-like flooring as they had on the very first day, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now.
Rush’s legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his arms extended behind him for support. Sketch sat next to him, to his left, mimicking the older boy’s posture. Mackenzie sat up straight to Rush’s right, her legs crossed neatly in front of her, as was her habit. Sam, on the other hand, had sprawled out next to Sketch on the end, lying on her side with her body propped up on one elbow. Kaitlyn was also lying down, on Mackenzie’s other side, stretched out on her stomach facing Ammu directly, using both hands to prop up her chin and waving her feet from time to time idly through the air, which Daniel, sitting cross-legged to her right on the other end, found downright adorable.
“Sam’s right,” Mackenzie said glumly. “Epic fail.”
“With every experiment, we learn something new,” Ammu pointed out. “It might not be what we had hoped, but still, it is progress.”
“Progress toward the end of the world,” Sam countered. “Helicopter crashes and disappearing planes and burning buildings and the bad guys win. Terrific.”
“We must not make such assumptions,” Ammu protested. “In every great undertaking, there are times when the situation appears difficult—even hopeless. But humanity’s greatest achievements have come about when those who faced adversity refused to be daunted, rising above such appearances and persevering despite all obstacles.”
“Ammu,” Mackenzie interjected, “I’m all about pushing forward, but I don’t know what we’re trying to push forward to anymore. Bullets don’t hurt it. How is the Army going to fight something it can’t hit?”
“Bullets do not seem to have any effect,” Ammu agreed, nodding sagely, “but the gryphon cub did.”
“We can’t use the gryphon to fight something like the thing from the plane,” Rush objected. “It’ll get killed! I mean, battle armor is cool and everything, but it’s just a cub. It can’t go up against a… whatever that thing was.”
“I agree that we should not use the gryphon for such tasks,” Ammu said, holding up a placating hand. “But I must add, while we are on the subject, that the cub, as you call it, might not be as young as it looks. Remember, such beings are not limited in appearance; they prefer the form that represents their true nature. Your gryphon might well be hundreds of years old. I do not know this for certain. I am saying only that it is possible. The fact that it appears as a cub means that it is playful, like a cub, but it does not necessarily mean that it is a cub.”
“Weird,” Kaitlyn said. “So the battle armor—that’s not part of its nature? It’s like… fake?”
“It’s not fake,” Sketch protested, his voice adamant.
“The armor is very real,” Ammu agreed. “It is one aspect of the gryphon’s true nature, just as being protective of your friends is one aspect of your true nature.”
“Then why not use the gryphon?” Daniel asked. “If you’re saying it can take any form, couldn’t it turn into a big gryphon and fight stuff?”
“The farther from its own nature a creature appears to be, the more energy it takes to hold that form,” Ammu said, “but that still might be a possibility someday, given enough work and commitment.
“In fact, I believe the gryphon may have formed a very special sort of bond with Rush. Most creatures are tied permanently to one plane of existence and to that plane only. They can visit another plane through the portals, but this takes a great amount of energy. The summoner’s mind must constantly resist the pull that seeks to return the creature to its own rightful place. The larger it is, and the longer it stays in our world, the more the summoner’s mind is depleted. This is why you all need days of rest, such as today, to recover between summonings.
“But some creatures are able to form connections to people of this world, so that the time they spend here no longer comes with a price. Or so the stories tell me. Such bonds connect them, through the people they love, to this world as much as to the other, so that the creature gains a rightful place in both worlds, becoming free of the pull that I just described.”
“Let’s try it!” Rush exclaimed, pushing himself up straighter. “Let’s bring it back.”
“That would not be wise,” Ammu said, shaking his head. “We need you all to rest and replenish your energy. If I am wrong, calling the creature through and allowing it to remain would tax you beyond an acceptable limit. There are stories also of men and women who lost their minds, and their lives, by attempting a summoning that required too much of them, or by holding a creature here in this world for too long.”
Ammu looked meaningfully at each of them in turn, making sure they had understood the danger he described, but Rush was already remembering the effort it had taken just to hold the gargoyle in place for a few moments against its will. He couldn’t even imagine trying to control something forcefully for any real length of time.
“Can I have a pet?” Sketch asked hopefully, and Ammu chuckled.
“Perhaps! It is said that most of the ancient summoners eventually established such a bond with a creature from the spirit world, but these relationships must be chosen freely by both the summoner and the creature to whom he or she feels drawn. It is not the sort of thing that can be forced, or hurried; it must appear in its own time.