The Search for Artemis - By P. D. Griffith Page 0,52
for it to happen.
“And then there’s the third kind, the ones who need to feel it. In these cases, the person uses their body in tandem with their brain to achieve the desired effect. There’s something about connecting the mind and body, the physical activity of the body driving telekinetic activity around them. Oddly, students of this type tend to be the most powerful lifters. And after what I saw on Thursday, I think you’re of this type.”
“So I have some kind of learning disorder?”
“No,” Dr. Brighton chuckled. “None of these are superior to the other. It’s just a matter of what works for you, and if you want to know the truth, . . . this makes you more normal. The vast majority of psychokinetics are this third type. It wasn’t until Thursday that I realized what we could start with in these sessions . . . Tai Chi.”
“Like what the old people do in the park?” Landon asked, curious if he was thinking of the same thing Dr. Brighton was suggesting.
“Landon,” Dr. Brighton replied, laughing. “Yes, it does have therapeutic benefits that are enjoyed by the old people in the park, but it is also a practice that is believed to help stimulate and harmonize the connection between the mind and body, one that works with the forces around them rather than against them. So, if you have no more questions, we should begin?”
Landon stood up and followed his professor out of the pagoda. They walked barefoot a short distance to a small arbor alongside the creek. The massive stone tiles of the arbor’s floor were cool and wet against Landon’s bare feet, but they were smooth. Patches of mossy green lichens grew out of the cracks in the floor and had begun to spread out across the ground. The creek ran right alongside the north edge of the arbor, and the water cascading down small bumps in the stream made the place feel tranquil and relaxing.
Dr. Brighton wasted no time in starting. He turned to Landon and forcefully adjusted his stance and posture until he was satisfied. Then he stood in front of him and assumed the same position.
“This is called the horse stance. It grounds you.” Dr. Brighton bounced up and down with his legs. “It is how you are always to start, and it probably already feels a bit uncomfortable. But that’s because we are working against fifteen years of your bad posture and poor habits.
“And I’ve decided we aren’t even going to attempt to use your abilities just yet. We are just going to start with the basics and work into adding telekinesis. Understand?”
“Yes, sensei,” Landon said in a jokingly serious voice.
“Pay attention,” Dr. Brighton commanded. “Do as I do.”
To Dr. Brighton’s constant criticism and verbal cues, Landon tried over and over again to correctly move through the poses.
“Parting the Wild Horses Mane to White Crane Spreads its Wings,” he called out. Landon took to the movements about as much as the names were ridiculous. “Now, brush your knee and push into Playing the Lute and Repulse the Monkey.”
For the next five hours, he worked tirelessly to mimic his teacher’s movements to no avail.
Dr. Brighton moved with fluidity and grace, but Landon was stiff and forced—uncoordinated.
How on earth is this supposed to fix me? Landon thought as he attempted to go down into The Snake Creeps Through the Grass for what seemed like the four hundredth time.
CHAPTER NINE
FLYING BOOKS
“So what do you guys do out there?” Riley asked as he and Landon paced down an aisle in the history section of the Library, searching for reference materials for their assignment on the Cold War.
“I don’t know. I just listen to Dr. Brighton and do what he says,” Landon replied.
As the weeks went by Landon developed a strong confidence in Dr. Brighton. The sessions were working. He was making progress, and he quickly found himself enjoying them. In the moment, he often questioned Dr. Brighton’s methods but always tried to follow them. It took a while, but Landon was finally feeling comfortable with the Tai Chi movements he was taught during his first lesson. It now took less than an hour to go through the sequence, and the exercise seemed to do more for him than connect his mind and body. It actually quieted his thoughts and consternations.
Outside of the sessions, his brain never stopped. Apart from being so preoccupied with the stresses of training and keeping his true apocratusis a secret, Landon had spent