‘I’ve been doing secret research for King Harold and Provost Scipio since I arrived here. I keep them abreast of developments while I can, but they won’t let me get involved in the teaching, no matter how much I ask. They say my time is better spent researching.’
She pulled a corked jar from a shelf nearby as she spoke, and removed a bedraggled demon corpse as large as a human hand from within. She lay it on the worktable in front of her and unravelled a leather roll of surgical tools beside it.
‘See here. This is a juvenile Arach, found dead in the ether a few months ago. Fulfilment level six, rare but not uncommon. I’ve been saving it for this demonstration. Finally, I get a chance to teach.’
It looked like a large, hairy spider, with a glittering nest of eyes in its head, a pair of hooked fangs beneath and a spiky stinger like a bee’s on its behind. Electra snipped each leg off with a pair of heavy scissors, as if she were trimming fingernails. She swept the amputated limbs into a bucket on the floor, leaving only the head and thorax. Genevieve shuddered and jumped away, for a leg missed the bucket and landed beside her feet.
‘See this hole, below the stinger?’ Electra asked, using a pair of tongs to hold it steady. ‘The Arach is capable of shooting a sticky, mana-based substance from there, not unlike gossamer.’
She tugged the lantern above her closer and peered at the sodden specimen.
‘We must be careful, the bristles on its body can become detached, floating in the air and irritating its victims’ eyes and skin. Jeffrey tells me that Lord Cavell’s own Arach has already caused a few problems in some of the first year’s lessons, is that not so, Cress?’
‘Aye,’ Cress agreed, scratching at her wrist absent-mindedly. ‘Didn’t stop itching for a week.’
Fletcher shuddered, for the dead creature’s eyes seemed to bore into him. He hated to think what a full-grown Arach would look like, though he had seen diagrams in his demonology lessons. It was poor luck that Didric had one of his own, for it would be a formidable opponent if it ever duelled with Ignatius.
Electra hummed a merry tune to herself as she pushed a tube-like instrument into the orifice beneath the demon’s stinger, as if she were coring an apple. When she drew it out, she was left with a cylinder of slippery organs, which she spread out on the table with the tongs.
‘That is repulsive,’ Rory said, running his hand through his shock of blond, spiky hair. His face lost what little colour it had, and he went to join Genevieve on the edge of the group.
‘Don’t be such a baby,’ Electra muttered, grasping Fletcher by a gloved hand and dragging him in beside her. ‘What do you see there?’
For a moment Fletcher had the mad suspicion that she wanted him to divine the future, as orc shamans claimed to be able to do with the entrails of their enemies. But when he looked closer, he recognised a strange symbol, imprinted in one of the organs like a brand.
‘It’s … a spell symbol,’ Fletcher said, shaking his head with confusion.
‘Yes! Do you even know how spells and etching were first discovered?’ Electra asked, turning so swiftly that the corer dashed a droplet of slime on to Seraph’s cheek. He retched, pawing at his face with his sleeve.
‘Demons have always used their special abilities by channelling their mana through organic symbols within them,’ Electra continued, ignoring Seraph’s moans of disgust. ‘The first summoners must have realised that, dissecting their dead demons as I have just done and copying the symbols down. My mission here is to add to the roster of spells available to our battlemages through my research. It is a long forgotten art, which I have revived. I am not a summoner myself though, which does tend to complicate things.’
She turned to Fletcher and grasped him by the shoulders.
‘Your Salamander, for example, will have the fire symbol somewhere within its throat. If they would just let me teach here, you would all know this!’
She sighed with frustration. Fletcher caught Othello’s eye and they grinned at each other knowingly. Even compared to a zealot like Rook, Electra was obviously a little too eccentric to teach at Vocans.
‘So what’s with all the plants then?’ Fletcher asked, pointing at a large pot with a fearsome looking plant within that resembled a thorny venus flytrap.
‘They’re demons too, technically,’ Electra said, caressing the stem as if it were a long-lost pet. ‘Plants from the ether. I haven’t found a single symbol in any of them, but I have discovered one thing. The petals, roots and leaves of certain species can be made into an elixir which, when drunk, will have useful effects.’
She pointed to a wooden rack of vials nearby – corked test tubes full of red, blue and yellow liquids.