“Gazelles,” Sergeant Caulder said, smiling at the look of wonder on Arcturus’s face. “You’ll be hunting them soon enough.”
“How?” Arcturus breathed, watching as the beasts cavorted in the sun, springing as high as a man was tall and dashing back and forth just for the joy of it. Nearby, a pair of males rutted, their sharp horns locked as they butted and shoved each other for supremacy, their short black tails wagging frantically in the excitement of it all.
“Crossbows, most likely,” Sergeant Caulder said. “Or with your demons, if they’re fast enough.”
Arcturus smiled at the frolicking animals, knowing he would find it hard to bring himself to kill one.
He closed his eyes to enjoy the warmth of the breeze and smell the tang of the new world. Somehow, the anxieties of his new life seemed to fade away, replaced by the gentle creak of carriage wheels and the soughing of the breeze.
* * *
“Wake up, lad!”
Arcturus opened his eyes, only to find himself slumped against Sergeant Caulder, his head resting on the man’s shoulder.
He jerked away, embarrassed, but the grizzled soldier only smiled and pointed at the carriages, where Alice and Josephine Queensouth were standing, rubbing their eyes.
They were in the middle of a town square, surrounded by stone-walled houses. Men and women stared out from windows, curious at the visitors, while others called in greeting as Edmund Raleigh strode about, organizing rushing servants who were removing the luggage from the carriages.
Arcturus felt like he had slept for hours, but the sun hadn’t set, and it cast the world in a dim orange glow as it hung above the horizon.
“Wake up, or we’ll miss hunting this evening,” Edmund called out to the still sleepy Queensouth twins, stepping aside as a pair of overzealous servants tried to lift a heavy trunk.
Arcturus stumbled into one of the servants accidentally as he passed, and the trunk tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents.
“Watch it,” Zacharias yelled out from within the confines of his carriage. “If anything’s broken, I’ll take the skin from your back as payment.”
But there was nothing to break within … because a skinny, pale-faced girl lay sprawled on the ground.
“Owww,” she groaned, rubbing her head.
“Elaine?” Arcturus asked, unable to believe his eyes.
“A stowaway,” Edmund said, smiling with amusement. “Would you look at that.”
Elaine scrambled to her feet, her thin arms crossed defiantly as she glared at them. Her chest heaved with emotion, and her face was red and sweaty from her confinement within the trunk.
“I’m not a stowaway, I’m a visitor,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Edmund. “It was rude of you not to invite me. Everyone else was invited. Even Arcturus, and Zacharias doesn’t even like him.”
Arcturus reddened at Elaine’s bluntness, even as Edmund chuckled at her shameless attitude.
“You’re right,” he said gently, putting an arm around her hunched shoulders. “It was jolly rude of me. Only … your brothers told me you were all going home this weekend, and I assumed that meant you too. My mistake.”
“Big mistake,” she huffed, even as she allowed herself a small smile.
Edmund knelt down and unraveled a small summoning leather from his pocket, no larger than a handkerchief. A flash of white later and a purple-shelled Mite demon had materialized in the air, its beetle wings buzzing as it hovered in front of Edmund’s face.
“What are you doing?” Elaine asked as he rummaged through his satchel and began to scribble a rough message on a scrap of parchment.
“Your parents must be worried sick,” he said, signing off his message with a flourish of his quill. “Especially with all the riots yesterday. I’m sending my Mite to let them know you’re safe—I bet they have half of Vocans looking for you by now.”
She blanched at his words and lowered her head. Arcturus couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl. He could imagine it was hard for her, being the youngest with three older brothers. She was probably left out all the time.
“Are you going to send me home?” Elaine asked in a small voice.
“No,” Alice said firmly, stepping away from her carriage and giving the girl a hug. “You can stay in my room this weekend.”
“Well, glad that’s all sorted,” Edmund said, tossing the Mite into the air, the scroll tied to its back. “Right, Zacharias, get your lazy arse out here. Daylight is fading. We’ve a few hours of hunting before it’s time to turn in. I’ve got a craving for fresh gazelle haunch.”
“But … I want to get dressed for dinner,” Josephine said plaintively as Zacharias stumbled from his carriage.
“No buts!” Edmund said, beckoning a nearby servant over. “Fetch the crossbows, there’s a good lad. We’ll be feeding half the town tonight with any luck.”
“Right you are, my lord,” the servant said, scurrying off into a nearby building.
“We’re coming back as soon as it gets dark,” Alice said, looking worriedly at Elaine. “Elaine’s far too young for this kind of thing as it is. There are hyenas, cheetahs, leopards, even lions out there. We might run into one.”
“I’m not too young,” Elaine protested. “Valens would stin—”
“Oh, I hope we do run into one,” Zacharias said, talking over Elaine’s protests. “I’ll take its head as a trophy for my wall.”
“You’re so brave,” gushed Josephine, taking the noble’s arm.
Arcturus resisted the temptation to grin as Alice performed the world’s most exaggerated eye roll. The two sisters might look identical, but he was realizing more and more that they were two very different people.
As Edmund reluctantly agreed to Alice’s demand, Arcturus noticed the servant returning, pushing a rattling cart over the cobbles.
“About time,” Zacharias grunted, shoving the servant aside to pluck a crossbow from within. “Thanks for looking after it for me, Edmund.”
Arcturus could see the Forsyth family crest carved into the weapon’s stock, a strange four-legged demon with three intertwined heads on long, snakelike necks.
Then it was the twins’ turn to delve into the cart, revealing a matching pair—elegant pieces that they loaded with practiced efficiency. They had done this before.
Edmund gave Arcturus a curious look as the young commoner peered into the cart, and Edmund leaned in to pull out his own crossbow. It was made of black, polished wood, and the stock was carved to fit the owner’s shoulder. Arcturus resisted the jealousy that surged through him, even as he wondered for a moment if he had been brought to load Edmund’s crossbow for him.
“Made from ebony, grown right here in Raleighshire,” Edmund said, brushing an invisible fleck of dirt from the beautiful weapon. “Made by the finest dwarven bowyers. You load it by pulling back on this lever, here.”
Edmund heaved on a metal spar that sat crosswise beneath the crossbow’s string and eased it back, until the string clicked into place and the lever lay flat against the stock.
Arcturus blanched. Maybe he was going to be the loader after all.
“Then you place a bolt—sometimes called a quarrel—here,” Edmund continued, tugging what to Arcturus’s eyes looked like a short, fat arrow from a quiver in the cart, and laying it in a groove in front of the taut string.
“When you’ve got something in your sights, you place the butt against your shoulder, look down the bolt, and … pull the trigger.”
Edmund swung up the crossbow in one smooth motion and the weapon twanged, sending the quarrel whistling through the air. Arcturus ducked instinctively, but the projectile was aimed well above him. There was a thud, and then Arcturus saw the sign that hung outside a nearby tavern swinging back and forth.
“Edmund,” Alice chided, looking at the splintered sign. “They won’t be able to fix that.”
“Good riddance,” Edmund replied, grinning. “It’s got our family crest on it. Hate the damned thing.”
Arcturus squinted, and could just make out what appeared to be a Manticore in its center—a hybrid of scorpion and lion. He couldn’t help but agree with Edmund … it was an ugly-looking creature.
Edmund handed the crossbow over, and Arcturus looked at it dejectedly. He guessed he’d be carrying Edmund’s crossbow as well. Still, at least he was here, away from Crawley and in the sun. It wasn’t as if he wanted to kill any gazelle anyway.
“Well, don’t look so glum,” Edmund said, a hint of a smile playing across the raven-haired noble’s lips. “Don’t you like it?”
“What do you mean?” Arcturus asked, confused.
“It’s yours,” Edmund said, tugging another crossbow from the cart and hefting it. “Just make sure you don’t let the teachers see it when we’re back at Vocans.”
“Bloody hell,” Elaine said as Arcturus stared at the weapon in amazement. “Where’s mine?”
“How about you share mine for now,” Alice offered.
Arcturus turned to thank Edmund, but the boy was already walking away, a bundle of crossbow bolts in a quiver over his shoulder.
“Come on, grab a quiver and let’s get moving,” Edmund called. “We’ve got dinner to catch.”
CHAPTER
21
ARCTURUS CROUCHED LOW IN the long grass, sweat dotting his brow as he sighted down his crossbow at the grazing beast ahead of him.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Edmund whispered beside him. “Pull the trigger as you breathe out. Easy does it.”
The tip of the quarrel swam in and out of focus, the black-and-white stripes of Arcturus’s quarry blurring in the background. Perspiration trickled down his spine, pooling in the hollow of his back.
Arcturus closed his eyes and fired, and the crossbow leaped in his hands, thudding into his shoulder as it spat the bolt with a dull twang. It whistled harmlessly over the zebra’s head, disappearing into the long grass beyond.
The creature froze for a moment, blinking its long eyelashes as it looked in their direction, then went back to cropping the grass with its buck-yellow teeth.
Edmund squeezed his shoulder, even as Arcturus was flooded with relief. He hadn’t wanted to kill it. It reminded him too much of the horses he had cared for in the past. They were probably the closest things he had ever had to friends.
“It’s all right, old chum,” Edmund whispered. “There’ll be another chance tomorrow.”
There was a rustle as the young lord raised his own weapon.
Arcturus tried not to breathe, watching as Edmund’s crossbow eased upward, then hung perfectly still in the air. The boy had barely broken a sweat, squinting down the quarrel with a practiced eye.
The zebra bolted, galloping toward its nearby herd. Then, in a shifting mirage of black-and-white stripes, the herd itself moved on in a tumult of thundering hooves.
Edmund cursed, but Arcturus was already up, his head cocked to hear the noise that had startled the zebra. There it was again. A scream in the distance, somewhere to the east.
He turned and saw Elaine running toward him, her black hair streaming as she twisted her head to look behind her. It was then that he noticed the demon.
It was green-brown in color and as large as a stallion, with hooked claws and snakelike fangs. It chased Elaine, lumbering across the plains like an iguana, its three heads swaying on their sinuous necks with every step. Arcturus recognized it immediately as the demon he had seen but an hour before on the stock of Zacharias’s gun. Arcturus could now see the boy beyond, doubled over in laughter as Elaine’s shrill screams rang out. Zacharias was tormenting her.
Without thinking, Arcturus tugged free his summoning leather and unleashed Sacharissa. Then the two were running, and Arcturus was cranking back his crossbow with strength born of fury.
He waited for Elaine to rush past him before kneeling and loading the crossbow. His eyes focused along its length, narrowed against the setting sun on the horizon. Sacharissa crouched beside him, and he laid the stock against her back, steadying his aim as the demon trampled closer and closer.
It was only now that Zacharias seemed to notice, and the demon faltered as its master ordered it to turn back. But it was too late. Arcturus took a deep breath … and fired.
The bolt whipped into the air, striking the beast square in its chest. Its front legs collapsed on impact, and the demon twisted and fell, throwing up the dry savannah dust as its trio of squeals echoed across the plains.
“Trebius!” Arcturus heard Zacharias scream his demon’s name.
He looked up at the boy, now no more than a stone’s throw away. The young lord’s eyes were blazing with hatred, and he raised his hand and traced a symbol in the air.
Then the world flared with light as a ball of fire erupted into existence, streaking across the savannah and setting the long grass ablaze.
Sacharissa covered Arcturus with her body, for all the good it would do. He closed his eyes. Stupid. He had been so stupid. Injuring a noble’s demon, when Elaine had never been in any real danger.
The world roared hot, and beneath his eyelids his vision seared white at the intensity of the blaze. And yet … no pain.
He cracked open his eyes, only to see the flames buffet harmlessly around them, stopped by an opaque wall that seemed to hang in the air ahead of him. Tiny cracks appeared along its surface, but it held strong. Soon the fireball dissipated, until the only sign of its existence was the channel of blackened, smoldering grass left in its wake.
Sacharissa whined and licked his face, her fear and confusion mirroring his own feelings.
“Zacharias!” Edmund shouted, and now Arcturus knew the source of the strange spell that had protected them. A blue symbol hung from Edmund’s outstretched finger.
But the blond noble ignored him, instead running over to his collapsed demon and tugging at the bolt stuck in its chest. It had barely penetrated the thick chest muscles, and came out with little more than a wiggle. Zacharias tossed it aside, then there was a flash of white light as Zacharias performed a second spell, sketching a heart shape in the air. Moments later the wound was gone, and the only sign it had been there at all was the bloodstained projectile in the grass beside it.
“Zacharias,” Edmund repeated, squaring up to the boy opposite him, rigid with anger.
“Why did you stop it?” Zacharias growled, standing and facing Edmund. He was a full head taller than the raven-haired boy, but that did little to faze his opponent.
“You mean why did I stop you from murdering my guest?” Edmund growled, shoving Zacharias.
Zacharias stared back at him, confusion spreading across his handsome face. It was as if nobody had ever pushed him before.
“He’s a commoner. Who tried to kill my demon,” Zacharias said, as if he were explaining something to a child. “It was a joke, for heaven’s sake.”
“I didn’t know it was yours, and I was protecting Elaine,” Arcturus yelled, the half lie coming easily to his lips.
“Whose did you think it was then, you stupid fool?” Zacharias roared, raising his fingers again. Edmund knocked his hand down and shoved him again. This time, Zacharias shoved back.
“Boys, no!”
Beyond the pair, Alice, Josephine and Prince Harold had arrived on the scene.
“I thought it was an orc’s demon … or a wild animal,” Arcturus said lamely. The words were unconvincing in his ears.
“You were being cruel to Elaine,” Edmund said, and it was strange for Arcturus to see the happy-go-lucky boy so angry. “It seems to me you deserved this.”
Zacharias raised his fist, but then Alice was standing between them, her chest heaving with exertion.
“Don’t … be … so … stupid,” she managed. “You’re … supposed to be … friends.”
“What gave you that idea?” Zacharias spat.
He turned and stalked away, his back stiff with anger. The demon followed, but not before one of its heads hissed threateningly in Arcturus’s direction. Josephine
stood for a moment, undecided.
“Wait up, Zach!” she yelled, jogging behind him.
As Zacharias walked out of earshot, Edmund deflated, and ran a hand over his face.
“That was unfortunate.” Prince Harold shook his head, a grim look on his face. “Arcturus, over here please.”
Arcturus approached him, wincing as the soles of his ragged, stable-boy shoes sizzled in the still-burning grass.
“I’m sorry, Harold … I wasn’t thinking,” Arcturus muttered.
“Well, why don’t you try thinking next time,” Harold snapped. Arcturus stared at his feet, kicking at the sooty ground.
Harold sighed.
“Forgive me. You have to understand, Zacharias is…”
Then he stopped, staring past Arcturus, his eyes widening.
Arcturus spun, his heart racing at the thought that Elaine might be hurt. But she was fine, sitting cross-legged just a few paces behind him, wiping at her tear-streaked face.
No, it was the figure staggering toward them behind her, his face and uniform covered in blood.
It was Rotter. Even as he neared them, he fell to his knees.
“Help me,” he gasped. “For heaven’s sake, help me.”
CHAPTER
22
IT TOOK ONLY A few seconds for Alice to heal Rotter, wiping away the deep cut in his ashen forehead like wine spilled on a table. But in that time it seemed the world became darker, the sun halfway through its descent beneath the horizon.
“What happened?” Prince Harold asked, handing a flask of water to the exhausted soldier.
“Men from the north,” Rotter gasped after a deep draft. “A few hundred of them. Came at us with swords while we set up camp outside Raleightown. I was on the edges, played dead … waited till they’d moved on.”
For a moment the group stared at him in shocked silence.
“Did any of your comrades survive?” Edmund asked, gripping Rotter by his shoulder.