Free The Summoner: by Layton Green

Yoruba. Such magical beliefs and practices are central to the adherent’s worldview.”
    Grey saw Viktor notice the frown that passed across his face.
    “One man’s superstition, Dominic—”
    “I prefer Grey.”
    Viktor inclined his head, “Is another man’s religion. Juju charms and spells, the miracles of Christ and Mohammed, prayer, belief in angels and saints and Orisas—these are simply supernatural or magical concepts infused with the austere name of religion. Is not all spiritual belief—belief in God or the equivalent—outside the purview of science, and thus supernatural or magical?”
    Grey shrugged. “Sure.”
    Viktor wagged a finger. “Don’t forget—what belief system you or I subscribe to is of no concern. This investigation concerns what this man and his followers believe, and how that might have affected Addison.”
    Grey took a calming internal breath. As far as he was concerned, religion, superstition, magic, spirituality, whatever other cute semantic nicknames people gave their metaphysical speculations—it all amounted to a lot of false hope and wasted time at best, injustice and misery at worst. But Viktor was right. This was about William Addison, not him. If his disappearance concerned Juju and people like Doctor Fangwa, he needed to know what he was dealing with.
    Viktor continued, “Many primitive religions, and some modern ones, subscribed to a practice termed “practical magic,” the belief that man can take specific actions that allow access to the spiritual realm, thus circumventing science and affecting the natural world in a direct, or practical, manner. Yoruba babalawos are both priests and magicians. While all babalawos use certain core practices—simple charms, spells, and rituals—many also specialize in more arcane practices, such as divination, necromancy, spiritual possession, homeopathic and contagious magic.”
    “I get what you said about magic being outside of science,” Grey said, “which is a clever way of allowing for the possibility of magic without really subscribing to it.” Viktor smiled faintly. “But isn’t it easy enough to prove these Juju spells aren’t working? How can a whole culture, a religion, evolve around something that isn’t real?”
    “You might be surprised how your concept of reality can change as it encounters new paradigms. The Yoruba babalawos have been developing and perfecting their rituals for thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of years. What we call magic is their science.”
    “So you do believe in magic.”
    “Magic is a misleading word, and a limiting one. Cultural anthropologists have reported that babalawos have an amazing degree of “success” with their spells—so much so that these scientists could provide no other rational explanation than that the spells had worked. There are credible accounts of numerous ailments cured by babalawos, paraplegics made to walk, even cancer disappearing. And the adverse: the instantaneous appearance of sores, inducement of blindness and paralysis. Some of these occurrences,” Viktor added, with a pause and a faraway look in his eyes that Grey couldn’t decipher, “I myself have witnessed.”
    Nya was looking uneasily at Viktor. Grey took a sip of wine to conceal his annoyance. He wondered what Viktor considered a credible account.
    “I don’t believe in the spells of the babalawos in the sense that you mean,” Viktor said. “But understand the human mind is a very powerful tool. I do believe there are occurrences in this world, realms of the mind, that are as yet unexplained.”
    Grey held a hand out, palm up. “I’ll humor the discussion.”
    Viktor leaned back and assumed his classroom voice. “All babalawos claim communion with spiritual entities—Orisas, ancestors, and the like. But what the N’anga is reputed to be doing goes a step beyond simple communication with supernatural beings. It appears the N’anga specializes in a rare form of magic, one which