‘This is incredible,’ she breathed. The pages were filled with intricate sketches of demons and spidery handwriting underneath. The level of detail was extraordinary, with statistics and measurements much like the large Mite scroll that Major Goodwin had been teaching from.
‘He’d been studying demons from the orc’s part of the ether, their physiology, their characteristics. He must have been dissecting any preserved orc demons he could find! This is exactly what we need for our archives. Most battlemages seem to have forgotten one of the most important of a soldier’s sayings – know thy enemy. Perhaps now that it is all on paper they will actually take that to heart.’
Fletcher grinned, glad that he had finally been able to contribute, even indirectly.
‘That is excellent news, Dame Fairhaven, although I had hoped he would have given us more information on how he found the summoning scroll for Fletcher’s Salamander,’ Scipio said, with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
‘Actually Dame Fairhaven, if you turn to the back, there should be something about it there. I think Baker began a diary towards the end,’ Fletcher suggested.
She flipped through the book until the very last few pages, where the diagrams ended and the pages were filled with lines of text.
‘Wait, what’s this?’ Dame Fairhaven said, pulling out the leathery summoning scroll and turning it over in the light.
‘I . . . wouldn’t touch that if I were you,’ Fletcher stuttered.
‘I know what this is, Fletcher,’ Dame Fairhaven said, stroking the material. ‘I have seen one before, many years ago. Inscribing a scroll through scarification of an enemy’s skin was the usual way the old orc shamans used to gift demons to their apprentices. It’s not so common these days though. Let’s see what Baker had to say on the matter.’
Her eyes scanned the pages as Fletcher and Scipio waited patiently. She seemed to be reading at a terrific pace, but then she was a librarian after all. It wasn’t long before she shut the book and laid it aside.
‘Poor James,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He became very depressed by the end – nobody would take his research seriously. The other battlemages didn’t respect him because he was such a weak summoner. He was cursed with a fulfilment level of three, poor fellow. I suspect his ill-fated mission into the forest was a desperate attempt to encounter an orc shaman and somehow discover the keys that they use.’
‘Foolish of him,’ Scipio scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. ‘The orc shamans know we want to find out what keys they use, so they never enter the ether anywhere near the front lines. Now tell me about this scroll. It’s what all the fuss is about after all.’
‘It says here he found the scroll buried underground in an old orc encampment. Earlier in the diary, it says that he had found a lot of bones at the same site, both orc and human. My suspicion is that the orcs’ encampment was attacked in the middle of the demon-gifting ceremony and the scroll was buried underground in a mass grave. The men who filled the grave probably did not know its significance,’ Dame Fairhaven said, peering at the scroll with morbid fascination.
‘Useless!’ Scipio grumbled, his voice full of disappointment. ‘A fluke event. I doubt we will find any other scrolls by digging up old bones. Make a copy of the book without the diary and send it out to the battlemages.’
‘Yes sir, I will start it tonight. Although I will need to hire a few scribes to get these drawings right,’ Dame Fairhaven replied, flicking through the book absentmindedly.
‘Do it. At least some good has come of all this,’ Scipio said as he walked from the room. ‘As well as having you of course, Fletcher,’ he added from the corridor outside.
Fletcher eyed the book greedily. He couldn’t believe he had waited so long to read it, long though it was. Dame Fairhaven continued to finger the pages, then as Fletcher shifted on his feet she looked up at him, as if she had forgotten he was there.
‘Sorry, Fletcher, I am just so taken with this book. Thank you so much for bringing it to me. I’m afraid I will have to keep it until enough copies have been made, which should take a few months. You can have it back after that.’
34
Fletcher had hoped to see what demons the nobles possessed when Lovett finally decided that all the commoners had mastered infusion. Sadly, she always ordered them to infuse their demons before parting the curtain.
He had been surprised to find that Rory and Genevieve were adept at infusion, whilst Seraph, Othello and Atlas had taken several tries to manage it. It made a lot of sense, as the more powerful the demon, the more difficult it was to infuse them.
As the lessons progressed, Fletcher had begun to size up his fellow students. The nobles were proficient yet lazy, content with their current level of expertise and complacent in their learning.