"These Aren't Your Hallmark Angels"

That was what the old man had said three days ago to her, when he had first agreed to teach her how to become a summoner. She had wanted to learn to summon demons, and was disappointed that they'd first be summoning angels.

"These aren't your Hallmark angels. These are beings of fire, with flaming swords, avatars of vengeance and the wrath of the Divine. The Fallen are that also, but without the `thou shalt not' part of their minds operating."

The last three days they had done the preparations to summon Anatalgimmatiel, a minor angel. The man had explained that the longer the name of an angel, the weaker it actually was. Only the strongest had short names like "Uriel." The preparations had been extensive. First they had needed a summoning circle. The old man had explained to her how while there were common parts of a summoning circle, the symbols had to be carefully modified for the specific being to be summoned.

To her surprise, the man had not used chalk. Instead, he had used a rolled up piece of plastic where he had pre-drawn the basic summoning grid. Apparently one minimized the chance of potentially fatal error in the grid by reusing as much as possible; if one knew that the section worked, reworking it was an unnecessary complication.

Most of the last three days had been spent adding the specific symbols for Anatalgimmatiel (in water soluble ink, so the rest of the grid could be reused). The old man had also sent her to purchase various minor items which would be needed in the ritual.

The candles had been easy, but some of the other components had been difficult to obtain. The angel had as part of its purview large non-human mammals, and so elephant ivory and horse hair would be necessary. She had expected that finding elephant ivory would be difficult given the regulations about endangered species, but that had been easy to find. The horse hair had actually been more difficult: it had to be obtained from a living horse, with the explicit purpose of being used for the ritual.

One couldn't exactly go up to someone, even if they owned a horse, and ask for a lock of hair. Finally, she found a farmer who was willing to let her cut off some hair for what she had said was an art project.

It was 2 PM on the third day when they were finally ready to summon the angel. The old man had commented that sure, one could summon an angel at night, but if the process was that delicate, better to do it when one was sharp and alert.

Right before they began the summoning, the old man had made her put her cell phone in another room. Apparently, he was concerned that if she had been researching summonings, there might be all sorts of symbols and demon names contained in the device. The old man did not know if an electronic copy would be enough to attract their attention, and he did not want to find out.

They proceeded smoothly as they had practiced. First, the old man drew the last two connecting lines. Then she lit the candles in order, first the red, then the green, then the black, and then the yellow, as the man began the recitation of the incantations. She became dimly aware of a force pushing her through her actions; she was uncertain if she could stop now even if she had wanted to. Then, at the height, she and the old man shouted "Anatalgimmatiel!" in unison. She had been able to barely pronounce the name earlier, but now empowered by the ritual, the name flowed smoothly.

In the center of the grid appeared something. It might have been a man with a flaming sword, but it resembled that only for an instant. It might have been a pillar of fire. She realized that whatever she was looking at would be almost impossible to describe if she had tried; it would require not purple prose, but ultraviolet prose. A distant part of her mind wondered if that thought made any sense, and if her mind was fully functioning.

"Mortals" a voice boomed and yet also whispered, in every language and yet none. "You have summoned me, and I have answered. What do you seek from Anatalgimmatiel?" At this, she felt a stretching out to eternity, as if the name of the angel had had not a handful of syllables, but thousands, and they had been all recited; she had heard the claim that the names of the angels as known to humans were but shorthand for their full names, and now she saw why that was believed.

The old man spoke calmly and without hesitation. "Per the rules of this summoning, you must answer us one question, and then you shall be dismissed. Our question to you, which elephants have bigger ears on average, African or Asian?"

If the triviality of the question was at all surprising to the angel, it gave no sign. The same booming and yet whispering voice said "African elephants." The old man nodded, and then erased one of the lines, chanting the quick dismissal incantation. All at once the room seemed to her to be darker, fuzzier, almost less real; as if the angel had anchored reality, and having left, had taken a small part of it with it.

She took a deep breath, and tried to steady herself. "Why did you ask that question?"

He shrugged. "One must remember that angels are not like you or me. For example, if we had asked which elephants have bigger ears, it might have filled out minds with all the information in the world about every elephant's name and its ear size compared to other elephants. That would not be out of maliciousness, but simply because they do not think like we do. A simple question with two specified possible answers avoids most of those issues."

She nodded, still trying to steady herself. The previous feeling of unreality seemed to have advanced to herself. She sat down on the ground and hugged herself tightly.

The old man grinned, apparently oblivious to her concerns. "And besides, that's an angel that oversees large mammals, I couldn't exactly ask a question about African and European swallows."

He looked more serious for a moment. "So, do you still want to learn?"

She nodded.