The silver lining was that Fletcher had earned Goodwin’s grudging praise in their second demonology lesson; his study of Canid breeds and their cousins had paid off. He had correctly identified and waxed eloquently about both Penelope and Malik’s demons. Penelope’s was a Vulpid, a three-tailed fox demon that was a little smaller than a common Canid but far more agile. Its snout was elegant and pointed, with a soft red coat that shone like burnished copper.
Malik’s Anubid was one of the rarest cousins to the Canid, a demon that crouched on two legs, much like a Felid, with the head of a jackal and a smooth pelt of black hair. It was a close relative to Major Goodwin’s chosen demon, the Lycan, a similar creature with thick, grey fur and the head of a wolf. The Anubid was a popular demon amongst the battlemages that originated from the Akhad Desert, although the species had now been hunted to near extinction in Hominum’s part of the ether.
Rufus’s demon was another Lutra, much to Atlas’s disappointment. Unusually, Rufus’s demon had been gifted to him in the same way that the commoners had been, through the forced donation of a summoning scroll. This was because his mother had died when he was a child and his father was not a summoner.
The only thing Fletcher felt he had any natural ability in was swordsmanship. Sir Caulder had invited him for extra lessons, learning techniques specific to the khopesh. His main sticking point was controlling his aggression. According to Sir Caulder, patience was one of a swordsman’s most important virtues.
‘All right, everyone, gather here please!’ Arcturus yelled, snapping Fletcher from his reverie.
The group gathered around him, their faces glowing with the exhilaration of finally learning one of the most practical lessons of spellcraft. The past few weeks had been more wyrdlight practice, channelling their mana and controlling its movement, size, shape and brightness. Arcturus’s reasoning had been that mastering the techniques learned with wyrdlights put them in good stead for when they eventually etched glyphs.
‘Now, many of you have been struggling with every attempt to produce a spell. More have struggled to do so in a timely fashion. Let me make myself clear. Both speed and reliability are essential for success as a battlemage,’ Arcturus said in a grave voice, looking them each in the eye. ‘Now, who can tell me which four spells are the staple of a battlemage?’
Penelope raised her hand. ‘The shield spell, the fire spell and the lightning spell.’
‘Very good, but that is only three. Who can tell me the fourth?’
‘Telekinesis?’ Seraph suggested.
‘That’s right, the ability to move objects. Watch closely.’ Arcturus grinned.
He raised his hand and etched a spiral in the air, as if he were stirring a cup of coffee. Suddenly he whipped his hand out and the hat he was wearing flicked up to the rafters, then floated down slowly to land on his head again. Fletcher could see a disturbance in the air below it, like a heatwave on a sunny day.
‘The art of moving objects is tricky, for, unlike the shield spell, fire spell or lightning spell, the telekinesis spell is nearly invisible to the naked eye. It’s much harder to lasso something and then manipulate it when you can’t see the rope you are using, so to speak. Most battlemages will simply blast it out; sending their opponent flying, but using a lot of mana.’
Arcturus, looking slightly guilty, eyed a pile of scrolls that Penelope had brought with her. They were full of other symbols that Arcturus had instructed them to learn.
‘Of course there are hundreds of other spells. The healing spell for example, difficult but useful. It’s slow acting, so not much use in the heat of battle.’ Arcturus etched the heart symbol in the air to demonstrate. ‘There will be some symbols that you will need next year, but won’t be able to perform now, like the barrier spell. You’ll see that one in action during the tournament. In any case, stick with the four staples, and you won’t go far wrong in the challenge. You will need the others in the written exams, so you must learn them all! Class dismissed!’
With those words, Arcturus turned on his heel and strode towards the door. The others began to chatter happily, but Fletcher did not feel like socialising. Instead, he chased after Arcturus and tugged on his sleeve.
‘Sir, do you mind if I ask, is Captain Lovett OK?’
Arcturus turned and looked Fletcher in the eye, his brow furrowed with worry.
‘She’s in ethershock. She might never recover, or she may recover tomorrow. I try and read to her as often as I can,’ Arcturus said, tapping a book he held under his arm. ‘Fortunately for the captain, one of her demons, Valens, was not infused when the accident happened. She might be able to see through his eyes using her mind. Only extremely skilled summoners have managed to learn that ability, but Lovett is one of most skilled I have ever had the honour of knowing. If anyone can do it, she can.’
He gave Fletcher an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder and forced a smile. ‘Now get some rest, you’ve worked hard today.’