Arcturus took a deep, calming breath and turned to him.
‘No, sir, she is not. It’s ethershock, that much is certain. We will have to wait for her to come out of it, but there is no telling when she will be back on her feet. I will take over her lessons in the meantime.’
Scipio closed his eyes and sighed with frustration. Then he turned to the noviciates and spoke.
‘Take heed, cadets. Now you understand the dangers of the ether, the risks your parents and donors took to give you your demon. Be thankful and work hard to make their gifts worthwhile.’ With those words, he took a few steps towards the door, then paused and spoke again.
‘Tarquin Forsyth, you are to come with me. Do not think you got away with speaking so disrespectfully to a superior officer. There will be consequences for your insolence.’
Tarquin’s face fell and he stared at the ground, but Scipio’s tapping foot sent him walking to the door. Fletcher could not help but smile. Serve the spoiled little upstart right.
His happiness was short-lived, however.
‘Wipe that smile from your face, Fletcher.’ Arcturus’s voice cut into his thoughts. ‘As your sponsor, your behaviour reflects upon me. Go directly to my office and wait for me there. We are going to have words.’
37
Arcturus’s office was as cold as Scipio’s had been hot, with no fireplace and a glassless arrow slit in the wall. It was surprisingly bare, but then both he and Fletcher had only arrived a few weeks ago, hard though it was to believe. Fletcher felt like he had been at Vocans for years.
The minutes ticked by, and soon he got bored. Ignatius was sleeping on his neck, having exhausted himself in all the excitement earlier. Listening out for approaching footsteps, Fletcher walked around the large oak desk that seemed to be the only piece of furniture in the room, other than two chairs and a large cushion for Sacharissa in the corner. Papers were scattered haphazardly on the desk, yet one caught Fletcher’s eye.
It was a list of names, all beginning with Fletcher. He looked below it in confusion and, to his horror, found another list, this time all ending with the name Wulf. This was not good news. If Arcturus were to dig deeper, he might find out about Fletcher’s crime. Worse still, he might leave a trail that Caspar could follow to track Fletcher down. He wracked his brains, trying to remember if he had mentioned Pelt by name.
Footsteps rang in the corridor, sending Fletcher scurrying back in front of the desk. Moments later, Arcturus strode in, followed by a bounding Sacharissa. Fletcher could tell from his movements that Arcturus was agitated, though his face revealed nothing. He sat down at his desk and shuffled his papers, giving no sign that they had anything to do with Fletcher. Then he looked up and steepled his fingers.
‘Do you know why I sponsored you, Fletcher?’ he asked, looking Fletcher in the eye.
‘Is it because I already had a demon so you wouldn’t need to capture one for me?’ Fletcher suggested.
‘No, I do not mind doing that. Sacharissa is adept at hunting in the ether, though the Barkling did prove a tricky customer, didn’t it, Sacha?’ Arcturus said, ruffling the Canid’s head.
‘Guess again,’ he ordered, leaning back in his chair.
‘Ummm . . . my rare Salamander?’ Fletcher hesitated.
‘That was an added bonus, but it’s not why,’ he said, eyes twinkling with mild amusement.
‘My bravery in the face of certain death?’ Fletcher joked, catching Arcturus’s expression and hoping to lighten the mood.
‘No, not that!’ Arcturus replied with a chuckle. ‘Some might say that you made the wrong decision there. An officer must learn to sacrifice good men so that the rest of his command can survive. So too could you have given up your money in exchange for your life. But I must say I was impressed. You were cool under pressure and you took a calculated risk. Good officers are pragmatic and calm under fire. But the men and women who rise to greatness are the risk takers, the gamblers. Those who take all or nothing. Perhaps you too will rise to their station if you play your cards right.’ Fletcher grinned at Arcturus’s words, but then they took a more sombre turn.
‘Today you played your cards wrong, Fletcher. Very wrong. Duelling Tarquin could have resulted in instant expulsion.’
‘I’m sorry, sir. I was only defending myself. If I knew how to shield myself I would have used that instead,’ Fletcher muttered, hanging his head.