The Outcast (Summoner #4)

As the days passed by, Arcturus was pleased to discover that as far as anyone knew—Ophelia Faversham included—Charles and Rook had been expelled for dueling each other, and that he had been injured in the crossfire. A few students harbored suspicions, but the boys had not been particularly popular, and after a few days of gossip things had died down.

According to Elaine, only Zacharias seemed bothered by the loss of Charles and Rook, so Arcturus endeavored to stay away from the provost’s son as much as possible. He suspected that somehow, Zacharias would blame him for the pair’s expulsion—especially if his father had chosen to trust the boy with the truth about that night.

By the end of the fortnight, Arcturus was pleased to see that Sacharissa was almost fully healed, her recovery sped up by her successful infusion a few nights before. Elizabeth had spent many hours teaching him the technique, and had even given him an old summoning leather of hers to practice with while she was busy downstairs.

Still, he had to rejoin the world eventually, and Sacharissa was becoming boisterous now that she was recovered. So, almost two weeks after that fateful night, he decided to go down for breakfast, though he infused Sacharissa first—standing her on the summoning leather and absorbing her into his body. He didn’t want to get in trouble for having his demon out before lesson time.

As he did so, Arcturus remembered the first time he had infused Sacharissa, guided by Elizabeth in the infirmary, the euphoria of her being merged with him, and the strange knowledge that she could now see through his eyes.

It felt strange to leave the infirmary. Of course, he had left the room before, to use the facilities and wash, but he had purposefully chosen to go when lessons were in progress, and he was yet to see any of the students.

For that reason, Arcturus was somewhat surprised when he found the dining hall mostly deserted when he entered—even if, to his dismay, one of the few people there was Zacharias. Edmund, the boy who had shown him some kindness on that first day, was also there, as well as the Queensouth twins and Prince Harold. When they noticed his presence, the group fell silent, following him with their eyes as he crossed the room.

Arcturus took a tray from a waiting dwarf servant, and sat himself down beside them. He focused on eating, ignoring their stares.

“So … are you going to tell us what happened?” Josephine Queensouth asked after a moment’s pause, giving him a nudge.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Arcturus mumbled through a mouthful of eggs.

“Leave him be, Josephine,” Alice, her twin sister, said. “It’s not our business, and we already know what happened anyway.”

“But not the juicy details,” Josephine moaned, rolling her eyes.

Alice ignored her. She leaned forward and gave Arcturus an encouraging smile.

“Are you feeling better, Arcturus?” Alice asked.

Arcturus looked up and gave her a quick nod, forcing a smile of his own.

“Jolly good,” Edmund said loudly, putting his arm around Alice’s shoulders. “Glad to have you back. Now, where were we? The weekend, right?”

“That’s right,” Zacharias said, his eyes fixed on Arcturus. “We were saying we should probably avoid Corcillum, after the protests last week.”

Protests?

“Riots, more like,” Prince Harold muttered, half under his breath.

“It can’t be helped,” Josephine sniffed. “The plebs just don’t understand the pressures of ruling.”

But Harold shook his head.

“They’re right to be angry,” he said, stabbing a sausage with his fork. “My father was a fool to spend so much of their taxes on building his palace. There are people starving across the kingdom, and he plants roses and builds fountains.”

There was an awkward pause, and understanding dawned on Arcturus then. Obadiah had said something about this—how there was growing unrest because of Harold’s father, King Alfric, bankrupting the country.

“I say we go to my place.” Edmund broke the silence, leaning back in his chair. “My parents are on a trade mission with the elves, so we have the run of the estate. We can go hunting for buffalo.”

The room rang with agreement, and Edmund turned to Arcturus.

“What do you reckon, Arcturus?”

Arcturus stared at him blankly, yolk dripping down his chin.

“That sounds … like fun,” Arcturus said after a moment’s consideration. Was that an invitation?

“So it’s agreed,” Edmund said, clapping his hands together. “Carriages arrive tomorrow morning at the ninth bell. Don’t be late.”

Arcturus sat speechless as the benches were scraped back and the group began to head out. Only Zacharias remained, glowering at him, his square jaw set with anger.

Arcturus met his gaze head-on, keeping his apprehension hidden with a steady stare. Finally, Zacharias broke the stare and stood too, knocking Arcturus’s shoulder as he strode past.

Alone, Arcturus quickly finished his breakfast, wolfing down the last of his eggs and toast, but not before making sure to pocket some sausages for Sacharissa to eat later.

His belly gurgled at the sudden influx of food. In just one meal he had eaten as much as he would have in a week when he had been a stable boy. He had forgotten how it felt to feel full.

Since he had arrived at Vocans, he had more energy, more strength, and even the cold didn’t bother him half so much. But he couldn’t allow himself to become complacent.

And what had Elizabeth told him? Trust no one. Yet … he felt he could trust Edmund, not to mention both Elizabeth and Elaine. Although, now that he thought about it, he wondered why his new friends had not told him about the riots.

More to the point … where were they? Elaine and her brothers should have been at breakfast, and Elizabeth had not come to see him the night before, for their usual summoning lesson. In fact, she was supposed to have been there that morning too, to help Arcturus with his demonology studies.

Arcturus knew that Elizabeth was housed above the servants’ quarters, so he set out across the atrium and up the east staircase. As he made his way up the winding steps, he felt the temperature drop. Clearly, this side of the building did not benefit from the roaring fireplaces that warmed the west wing, where the noble students and wealthier teachers slept.

Still, even if the servants’ quarters were colder, they were decorated as ostentatiously, and Arcturus could see passages lined with paintings, tapestries, even suits of armor and racks of gleaming weaponry, as the winding stairway took him higher and higher.

When he reached the top floor, Arcturus paused, wondering which way to go. A long, darkened passageway stretched in front of him, while the balcony overlooking the atrium lay to his left and right, with doors studding its walls.

An idea came to Arcturus, and he smiled. He knelt and unraveled the summoning leather that Elizabeth had given him, leaving the square of pentacle-embossed leather on the ground in front of him.

Moments later, Sacharissa materialized into existence, her tail wagging like a metronome. She whined and nuzzled against Arcturus’s palm, then nipped him lightly for keeping her confined for so long.

“I’m sorry, Sacha, but you’d better get used to it.” Arcturus smiled, ruffling her ears. “Now keep quiet. You’re not supposed to be out.”

The dog demon rolled on her back, whining hopefully as she waited for a belly rub. Arcturus obliged, shaking his head ruefully as she wriggled with pleasure. She was still a puppy at heart.

“Can you smell Elizabeth for me, girl?” Arcturus murmured. “I need you to find her.”

Instantly, the demon was on her feet, her ears upright and alert, nose close to the ground. He could sense her excitement, pulsing through him like a rush of adrenaline. A hunt. It was what she was born to do.

Already she was snuffling the ground, prowling forward with the low gait of a lion stalking a gazelle, the soft padding of her feline feet barely making a sound in the echoey hollow of the murky passageway ahead.