Summoner: Origins The Prequel (3 page)

5

Arcturus stabbed his dirk into the crack on the edge of the box and heaved. The wood creaked under the strain, then the nails gave way and the lid crashed to the ground.

There was a low growl from inside, before Sacharissa bounded out. Her fur stood on end and she snarled, spinning in a circle to scope out her surroundings. It was only when she saw Arcturus that she calmed, snuffling at his feet before lapping his hand with a rough, wet tongue.

‘It's OK, girl. The Favershams won't hurt us here. Not if I can help it,' Arcturus brandished his dirk so she could see the blade, then slipped it back into the scabbard on his boot.

A cloud drifted across the moon, casting the courtyard in a shroud of darkness. Arcturus could barely make out the doors, but he stumbled up the stairs regardless, his hands outstretched in front of him. Sacharissa followed behind, bumping against his shins in her attempts to keep close by.

Before he could knock on the doors, they swung open unexpectedly. The inside was brightly lit and he shielded his eyes as a figure stepped out brandishing a torch. Arcturus gaped when his eyes adjusted to the glare. It was a dwarf!

Of course, Arcturus had heard of the dwarves, though they were rarely seen in the north of Hominum, where he had grown up. This one appeared almost exactly as he had imagined, standing as tall as his midriff. The dwarf was stockily built, as all his people were, with long, red hair kept in a ponytail and a braided moustache and beard. He wore a simple servant's uniform, plain green with a red sash around the middle.

‘Welcome to Vocans, my lord,' the dwarf said in a deep, respectful voice. ‘Please, come in out of the cold.'

Arcturus did as he asked, speechless. Sacharissa gave the dwarf a suspicious sniff before entering, then sat protectively beside Arcturus.

‘I see you already have a Canid. A fine specimen, if you don't mind me saying so.' The dwarf held out a thick, callused finger for the demon to sniff. Sacharissa snorted disdainfully and flicked her tail, then walked further into the castle.

The room they were in was an enormous hall, with identical winding staircases on either side. They stopped at intervals on five levels, each one complete with a long balcony bordered by gilded metal railings. The ceiling was supported by giant oak beams, and Arcturus could see a dome of glass in the very centre that would allow natural light to illuminate the room in the daytime. All around, the walls were ensconced torches, casting pools of flickering light that made the marble floor look like shifting water.

‘We call it the Atrium. Beautiful isn't it?' the dwarf said proudly.

‘It is,' Arcturus breathed. At the very end of the hall, there was another set of doors, just as large as those behind him. But it was the archway above that took his breath away, for it was intricately carved with the twisting figures of a thousand demons. Their eyes were set with a myriad of glittering jewels, and the shifting shadows of the torchlight made it appear as if the creatures were alive. He tried to spot a Canid like Sacharissa among them, but it was near impossible, given the countless species that danced along the stonework.

‘Well, come on. I have to take you to your quarters. Most of the other nobles are sleeping, but you'll get a chance to meet them in the morning. Do you have baggage, my lord?' the dwarf asked.

‘No baggage,' Arcturus said, spinning to show the dwarf his rucksack. ‘But hang on, I'm not a—'

‘Follow me,' the dwarf interrupted, before he could finish.

The dwarf led him up the east staircase, holding the torch aloft to light their way. They continued all the way to the top floor, though Arcturus caught tantalising glimpses of tapestries and paintings as they passed each level. He was disappointed to find the walls relatively bare when they finally left the staircase and made their way down a long corridor, but was fascinated by the suits of armour that lined the way. The occasional crumpled breastplate or crushed helmet revealed that they had once seen battle, and he realised with a gulp that he might someday face the creatures that had broken them. Sacharissa sensed his fear and began to whine, but he settled her with a scratch behind the ears.

Once or twice he saw orcish javelins and arrowheads, preserved on velvet cushions behind glass cabinets, but the dwarf walked surprisingly fast for one with such short legs, and Arcturus could not pause to examine them further. After what seemed an age, the dwarf stopped by a door and pushed it open.

‘I will let the Provost know you have arrived. Your uniform is on the bed, although I know most of you like to have a tailor make a fresh one. Still, it's there if you need it. If you need anything else, ask for me, Ulfr. I'll do my best to assist you.' Before Arcturus could open his mouth, Ulfr had ushered him inside and closed the door behind him.

The room was enormous; almost the size of the stable Arcturus had worked in, with high ceilings and a chandelier lit by a ring of thin candles. The walls were lined with awnings of red and gold, and the carpet beneath his feet was a deep, white shag that Sacharissa immediately began to roll around on, rubbing her back against the fabric.

The bed was a king-sized four poster, with a mattress so thick and plush that it would be difficult to climb into. Arcturus wasted no time in diving across it, revelling in the springy bounce and the silky, satin sheets.

‘Up you come, Sacharissa. There's room for both of us,' Arcturus laughed, patting the space beside him. Sacharissa yapped with excitement, bounding on to the bed in one fluid leap. Her feet caught in the uniform at the foot of the bed, and Arcturus untangled it and held it up for them to inspect.

‘Fancy,' Arcturus murmured. The jacket was double-breasted, made from a deep blue velvet and held in place by shining gold buttons. It looked too showy to be a military uniform, but then Arcturus was no expert and Elizabeth's clothing had been just as ornate. He let his feet dangle off the side of the bed and undressed, before shrugging on the uniform. He was pleasantly surprised to find that it fit him well and the material was as soft as the bed sheets he sat on.

‘I could get used to this,' he murmured, rubbing Sacharissa under the chin. Life wasn't so bad after all.

The echo of footsteps from outside disturbed his thoughts, then the door slammed open. This time, it wasn't a dwarf.

A man stood in the doorway, so tall and brawny that he had to stoop to enter. He was resplendent in the red uniform of a General, with tasselled epaulettes on his shoulders and rows of medals pinned to his chest. His hair was made up of blond curls, which tumbled across his shoulders in an aureate mane. The man was smiling when he stepped into the room, but as soon as he laid eyes on Arcturus he froze. His face was handsome, with chiselled features and a square jaw, but it turned ugly as it twisted into a furious scowl.

‘Ulfr!' the man bellowed, balling his hands into fists. ‘Come here, immediately.'

‘What is it, Lord Forsyth?' Ulfr asked, scurrying in behind him. He kept his eyes low and gave a half bow as Forsyth turned on him.

‘Why is this peasant in Charles Faversham's room?' Forsyth's voice was deep and threatening.

‘Is he . . . but he . . .' Ulfr stuttered, his eyes flicking nervously from Arcturus to Forsyth.

‘But nothing!' Forsyth growled, grasping the dwarf by his beard and lifting him so he had to stand on tiptoes.

‘Hang on a minute,' Arcturus interjected, standing up. ‘I didn't tell him who I was—'

‘I'll deal with you in a minute,' Forsyth snarled, his grey eyes flashing with anger. Arcturus fell silent, lost for words. The venom in the man's voice had turned his insides cold.

‘My lord, it was an accident. You told me Charles would be arriving tonight, so I assumed . . .' He trailed off.

‘You assumed this filthy urchin was the son and heir to Lord and Lady Faversham, did you?' Lord Forsyth said, lifting the dwarf still higher.

Suddenly, he punched the dwarf in the head, grunting with effort. There was a sickening crack of knuckles against skull and Ulfr sprawled across the carpet.

‘Hey!' Arcturus yelled, rushing to Ulfr's side. The blow would have knocked the senses from any human, but the dwarf was only stunned for a moment, before cradling his head in his hands.

‘A halfwit and a half-man. Though the two often go hand in hand.' Forsyth laughed, rubbing his knuckles. Arcturus recognised the racist term ‘half-man' and felt disgusted. Sacharissa gave a low growl as she felt his anger and padded towards Forsyth, but Arcturus calmed her with a thought. He did not want to make the situation any worse.

‘When you've recovered your wits – if you had any to begin with – take the peasant to the empty room at the top of the north eastern tower.' Forsyth commanded. He swept out of the room without a backwards glance.

‘Are you OK?' Arcturus asked, trying to lift Ulfr to his feet.

‘Get off me, human,' the dwarf barked. Arcturus released him as if he had been stung.

‘And you wonder why the dwarves rebel against you so often,' Ulfr muttered bitterly, rubbing his temple. Already, a large lump was forming on the side of his head.

Arcturus understood the hatred that dwarves felt towards humans, for even he knew of how the humans had overthrown the dwarves millennia ago, reducing them to second-class citizens in their own homeland.

‘I'm not like him,' Arcturus whispered.

‘There's nobody like Obadiah Forsyth,' Ulfr replied, hauling himself to his feet. ‘But he is the black to your grey. In the end, you are all stained with the evil that is the human condition.'

Arcturus bit back a retort and started gathering his things together. Ulfr was already walking out of the room when he had finished.

‘I hope there's a bed where we're going,' Arcturus said, tugging a reluctant Sacharissa behind him. She clearly didn't want to leave the plush carpet in Charles's room.

‘It has all the essentials. It's where the Provost sends students as a punishment if they break the rules. Solitary confinement and all that,' Ulfr replied, turning into another stairwell at the end of the corridor.

‘What's a Provost?' Arcturus's voice echoed in the tight confines of the staircase.

‘A headmaster of sorts. He runs the academy, decides who graduates and sets the curriculum. You might say he's the highest authority at Vocans.'

‘When do I get to meet him?' Arcturus asked. Ulfr ignored him and turned into an empty chamber with two doors. He took him down the left one and they entered a narrow corridor.

‘Storage rooms,' Ulfr grunted, pointing at the identical doors on either side. He pushed open a door at the very end and showed Arcturus a bare room with a thin pallet bed in the corner, with a simple desk and cabinet crammed against the far wall. An arrow slit allowed a cold gust of wind into the room and Arcturus felt the hair on his arms stiffen with gooseflesh.

‘Home sweet home. If you need anything, keep it to yourself. I'm paid to serve the noble born children, not freaks like you. Common summoners. It's not natural!' Ulfr shook his head and began to walk away.

‘I want to tell the Provost how poorly the servants are treated here. When do I get to meet him?' Arcturus asked again, hoping to make peace with the dwarf.

Ulfr turned and gave Arcturus a bitter laugh.

‘You've already met him. The Provost is Obadiah Forsyth.'

6

Arcturus woke feeling refreshed. Despite the cold draughts of wind that gusted through the glassless window, Sacharissa had wrapped herself around him like a slightly smelly fur coat, keeping him warm and comfortable all night.

She whined in complaint as he extricated himself from her embrace and stood shivering in the room. He yanked the threadbare blanket from beneath her and wrapped it around his shoulders.

‘Come on lazybones, we're going to go find the baths and get ourselves cleaned up. First impressions are important.'

Sacharissa rolled over, then blinked her four eyes at him sorrowfully.

‘None of that,' Arcturus grinned. ‘Your puppy dog act won't do you any favours here.'

She snorted with feigned annoyance, before padding to the door and nudging it open with her nose.

Arcturus followed her out into the corridor, past the storerooms and down the stairs. She snuffled at the ground, as if she was hunting for something.

‘I hope you're not taking me to the kitchens,' Arcturus murmured, trailing behind her. ‘We need to find the baths.'

As if she could sense his meaning, she turned and looked at him. When his eyes met hers, he felt the connection between them flare, and for a brief moment his senses swam with a new awareness. Sounds became more acute, smells were intense and vivid. Only his vision suffered, the blue-white light of the morning outside turning into shades of grey and shifting strangely in front of his eyes.

He staggered at the sensation, steadying himself on the wall. As quickly as it came, the feeling left him, but not before he sensed the scent that Sacharissa was tracking. Water.

‘Lead on,' Arcturus smiled, shooing her forward. He grinned, relishing the memory of his new power. It was fascinating to learn that Sacharissa might not be able to see colours. Who knew?

She turned down the spiral staircase, taking him down to the Atrium while snuffling at the ground. It was obviously still early, for the castle was as lifeless and silent as a tomb.

It was for that reason that he almost jumped out of his skin when a voice hailed him from the balconies above.

‘Arcturus!' Obadiah Forsyth snapped, his face peering over the metal railing from the floor above him. ‘Who gave you permission to leave your quarters?'

Before Arcturus could answer, Obadiah's head disappeared and footsteps echoed in the stairwell behind. He emerged red faced, an accusatory finger pointed at Arcturus like a weapon.

‘Sir, I am sorry, I needed to use the facilities,' Arcturus said, layering his voice with as much respect as he could. ‘I did not mean to break any rules.'

It was an almost automatic response, for he had learned from his time with the innkeeper that deference could save him from a beating, or worse. It had the desired effect, for Obadiah paused mid stride.

‘Well . . . I guess that is a fair excuse,' he begrudged, dropping his hand to his side, before walking around Arcturus, examining him.

Arcturus lowered his head and watched Obadiah through half-closed lashes, ready for any sudden moves. Instead, the noble lifted Arcturus's chin with a knuckle and nodded approvingly.

‘Well, I'm pleased that you know to respect your elders. And betters for that matter,' Obadiah said, laying a hand on his shoulder and propelling him away from the doorway.

‘Your morning ablutions shall have to wait. The king has asked me to find out what level summoner you are. Come with me.'

Arcturus bit back a groan and followed Obadiah back up the stairs. Sacharissa pattered behind them, whining as she sensed Arcturus's agitation. After a moment, Obadiah spun on his heel and kicked out at Sacharissa, but she skipped out of the way with a growl.

‘If you can't control your demon's infernal noise, I will shut her up for good,' Obadiah snarled.

‘Sacharissa, stay,' Arcturus said hastily, pointing at the ground. She cocked her head at him, as if to ask: are you sure?

‘Be a good do—' he caught himself, ‘. . . demon and wait here for me. I'm sure it won't take long.'

She stared at him pitifully, then settled down and laid her head on her front paws.

‘Good girl,' Arcturus said. Obadiah grunted, then continued on down the corridor.

They walked for a few minutes in silence, before curiosity overcame Arcturus's fear.

‘What do you mean by “level”?'

‘Different species of demons have different levels of demonic energy. For example, a Canid is a level seven demon. That means, to have been able to summon her, you are at least a level seven summoner,' Obadiah replied, without turning around.

Arcturus realised they were heading towards the southwest tower. As they turned into what Arcturus expected to be a stairwell leading to the top of the tower, they entered a large circular chamber with a ceiling that stretched hundreds of feet above them to the roof of the tower.

In the centre of the room was a strange column, made up of different segments of multicoloured crystals. It was so tall it reached the very top of the room, and Arcturus had to crane his neck to see the tip of it.

‘Put your hand against the fulfilmeter,' Obadiah ordered, then pushed Arcturus to his knees before he could respond. He seized Arcturus's hand and pressed it against the cool gemstones.

Immediately, Arcturus felt something sucked out of him, flowing through his hand. It felt cool as ice and to his surprise, he could see a cobalt blue glow around the edges of his palm.

‘What you are feeling now is your mana being sucked into the fulfilmeter.'

‘Mana?' Arcturus stuttered. He could feel it roiling in his blood, cold under his skin.

‘Yes, mana is the power you use when performing a spell. You will learn more about that soon, perhaps today if you keep your ears open.'

The last of the mana drained out of him, then the flow was reversed. But this was very different to before. It was hot and violent, a sharp contrast to what he had experienced just a moment before.

‘Demonic energy, what all demons are made from. The more you can absorb, the higher your fulfilment level,' Obadiah murmured, tightening his grip on Arcturus's wrist.

The segment of gemstone Arcturus was touching lit up with a hum. The others above lit up soon after, each one emitting a dull thrum as they did so. Seven times the room flashed with new light, then the humming began to slow. It was just as well, for Arcturus felt full to the brim with the caustic energy. It felt like he was boiling from the inside out. Just as he thought it was over, the eighth segment flickered into life.

‘A level eight summoner,' Obadiah said, with a hint of surprise in his voice. ‘That is . . . above average . . . especially for a summoner as young and as new to his demon as you. The usual for an untrained noble who has just arrived at the academy is seven, which is what I assumed you would be. I find this very interesting. I'm sure the king will share that sentiment.'

‘What does it mean?' Arcturus said, massaging his wrist as Obadiah released him. He felt a flash of dread. Would it have been better if he were a weaker summoner?

‘It means that you are unusual only in that you are a commoner, neither too high nor too low in level. You fall within the normal range of what we can expect from a novice. It also means that you could summon a level one demon, such as a Mite, on top of your level seven Canid. Of course, as you train in the various arts of summoning, your fulfilment level will improve over time, and you will be capable of summoning more powerful demons.'

Arcturus relaxed. Normal was good. He was unusual enough, without being something the king might see as a threat. As Obadiah began to lead him out of the room, Arcturus couldn't resist one more question.

‘A Mite?'

Obadiah gave an exasperated sigh, then turned back to him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of leather. As he unravelled it, Arcturus realised it was identical to the leather mat he had found in Charles's saddlebags, a brown square with a black pentacle embossed on both sides. Obadiah dropped it to the floor and touched the leather with his fingertip.

The pentacle flared with violet light, just as it had in the stables. This time, instead of an orb expanding above, ethereal strands of white light blossomed from the glowing symbol, merging together like threads on a tapestry. It was not long until an insect-like form materialised and the glowing white faded to reveal the true colours beneath.

The demon looked like a giant beetle, so large it would barely fit on a man's hand. Its carapace was a dark red colour, with a sting not unlike a bee's on its behind and a pair of sharp mandibles that clashed as it stared at Arcturus through two black eyes. With a flutter of insectile wings, it buzzed into the air, before settling on Obadiah's shoulder.

‘Beautiful isn't he,' Obadiah said, stroking the Mite's shell. ‘Rubeus is one of my weaker demons, but perhaps the most useful. He's my eyes and ears at Vocans – step one toe out of line and he'll come straight back to me. Unless I've already seen it of course.'

He reached into his pocket once again and pulled out a shard of crystal. It was flat, like a broken piece of glass, yet Arcturus could see the room reflected on the polished surface. Obadiah tapped it on the Mite's shell and held it out for Arcturus to see. For a moment Arcturus thought he was looking at a piece of mirror, but as Rubeus buzzed into the air, he realised that the image on the crystal was exactly what the beetle demon was seeing.

‘The scrying stone and summoning leather are the two most important items in a summoner's tool chest,' Obadiah lectured, pocketing the crystal and rolling the leather up once again. ‘Your demon usually resides within your body and can be summoned into existence, then infused back into you using the leather. The scrying stone lets you share your demon's senses, including sound and smell, though you need to look at the stone to be able to see what they do. Of course you will only be able to see black and white with yours. Canids and their various cousins are all colour blind.'

Arcturus smiled, glad to confirm his suspicions. Still, it was strange that he had been able to do it, if briefly, without a stone at all. He would have to investigate that later. The fact that Sacharissa could somehow be ‘infused' into his body filled him with both excitement and apprehension. Could that really be possible?

‘Right, that's enough for one day. I'm your Provost not your teacher.' Obadiah said, shaking his head as if surprised he had shared so much.

‘Thank you, Lord Forsyth,' Arcturus said, holding out his hand. ‘I look forward to learning more. May I ask, would it be possible for you to take me back to Sacharissa and then show me how to find the baths?'

‘I'm not your servant, insolent boy,' Obadiah snapped, ignoring the hand and stamping out of the room. ‘We can collect your demon because it's on the way, but there's no time for a bath now, you'll have to wait until later. It's breakfast time. I'm going to announce your arrival to the other students.'