The Wendigo advanced upon her, saliva dripping on the floorboards, ready for the killing blow. It raised its hands high in the air, claws pointing down, like a mad pianist ready to play his first note.
Arcturus roared, leaping onto its back and burying the dirk up to the hilt in its spine. The Wendigo screeched like a banshee, spinning and slapping at him. But Arcturus was well placed, right in the small of its back. He clung on to the hilt, swinging back and forth as it leaped this way and that. Valens was there too, burying his mandibles in the Wendigo’s ear.
It couldn’t last though. The Wendigo bucked, breaking Arcturus’s grip and sending him tumbling away. He fell in a tangle of limbs, right on top of Elaine. She sobbed beneath him, still frozen in fear. The end was near now. There were no cards left to play. He barely had the strength to walk, let alone drag Elaine out of the door.
He climbed onto his feet unsteadily and held up his fists. The Wendigo limped toward him, its leg in tatters, yawping with pain as the dirk twisted in its spine.
“It hurts so much,” Elaine gasped beneath him. He saw the blood then, trickling from her head. She hadn’t been paralyzed with fear. The Wendigo had knocked her unconscious.
“Get out of here, Elaine. I’ll hold it—”
The Wendigo’s claw flashed out, slicing him across the face. He could not see, but punched out, connecting with the cold, hard flesh of its chest. He could hear Sacharissa howling, then he collapsed as another blow whistled over his head. A kick then, like a sledgehammer in his stomach. He puked.
He could see Sacharissa, crawling toward them. She leaped, though the pain that ripped through her in doing so was like a knife in Arcturus’s heart. Her tackle did nothing but cause the Wendigo to stumble. Then a bellow. Blood, dripping on his face. Flashes of light.
Then, darkness.
CHAPTER
16
A GLIMMER, FLICKERING IN the black. He was so close to letting go. There was so much pain. It would be so easy, to drift into the abyss.
The light was relentless, darting back and forth to keep his attention. It wanted him to follow.
“He’s waking up.”
It tugged at him, insistent in its need. It knew him, this light. It was his friend.
“That’s it, come back to us, Arcturus. You’re going to be all right.”
Sacharissa was calling to him. He could feel her love, tugging him through their connection. She was the light in the darkness. The only one left in the world who cared for him. He struggled back, wading through the void, though it lay heavy, as if Anansi’s tendrils gripped him still. He opened his eyes.
Three faces looked down at him. Elizabeth. Scipio. Obadiah. He groaned as he saw the provost’s face.
“Not you. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt Sacha,” he croaked, grasping Obadiah’s jacket.
“He’s delirious. Thinks you’re the Wendigo,” Scipio said, sponging Arcturus’s forehead with his sleeve.
“Did the healing spell not work?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes filled with concern.
“It worked perfectly, but he took a knock to the head.” Obadiah lifted Arcturus’s eyelid and peered close. “Nothing a healing spell can do about concussion.”
“I’m fine,” Arcturus said, slapping Obadiah’s hand away and sitting upright.
The room was filled with rows of beds just like the one he was on, but from the masonry he knew he was still at Vocans. Bandages, bedding and medical instruments were stacked on shelves nearby. Elaine lay on the bed beside him, but she looked asleep. They were in the infirmary.
Sacharissa was curled up at the end of his bed, covered by a warm blanket. Arcturus could feel a fierce ache through their connection, which told him her ribs were still broken.
“Heal her,” he ordered, shuffling closer to Sacharissa and stroking her ears. “Heal her and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“It’s dangerous to use the healing spell on broken bones, Arcturus,” Elizabeth said gently, laying a calming hand on his shoulder. “It can only be used safely on flesh wounds. We have to let nature take its course. She needs rest.”
“How did I get here?” Arcturus asked, blinking tears from his eyes. Sacharissa was so quiet, her chest barely rising and falling. How could he have let this happen to her?
“Ulfr woke us, told us he had heard unusual sounds from the summoning room. We got there just in time to fight off the Wendigo. I left it locked in the summoning room, while we tended to your wounds.” Scipio looked reproachfully at the provost. “Obadiah arrived as we dragged you out. He is going to harness the Wendigo later.”
“You’re going to make that thing your demon?” Arcturus cried. “After what it did?”
“It’s a powerful demon, and weak enough to capture now, thanks to you,” Obadiah stated, unashamed. “I will bend it to my will and use it against the orcs. I have given my Hydra to my son, Zacharias. This demon will take its place.”
Arcturus leaned away from him, disgusted. What manner of man would want that monstrosity as their demon, powerful or not? He was so lucky to have Sacharissa.
“I want to know what you meant when you said you’d tell us ‘everything you need to know,’” Elizabeth said, tactfully changing the subject. “Is that why your bag is all packed?”
“I overheard Charles saying that the provost was coming back to interrogate me—I wasn’t going to hang around for that,” Arcturus muttered.
“‘Interrogate’ is a strong word. I wanted you to confirm my theory, that’s all. I suspect that is why Charles and Rook tried to kill you. Little did they know, I had already guessed the truth.” Obadiah’s face darkened with sudden anger.
“How do you know they were involved?” Arcturus asked, dumbfounded.
“Ulfr saw them leaving the summoning room,” Obadiah said. “Of course, the word of a dwarf will never stand up in court, especially against two nobles, but it is enough for me. The half men are malicious little creatures, but this particular one had no reason to lie. The two boys will be expelled from the school, to be privately tutored at home. It is as harsh a punishment as I can give them.”
Arcturus nodded, unsure of whether to be pleased or angry. It could have been a lot worse—their actions may never have come to light. But expulsion … was that all? Even when caught red-handed, their high birth had protected them.
He felt a flash of gratitude for Ulfr. Were it not for him, Arcturus would be slowly digesting within the stomach of a monster. It was unfair of Obadiah to speak of him in such a way.
“Lady Faversham is dealing with them now,” Obadiah said, lowering his voice and leaning closer. “It is a good thing she is not here, for what we are about to discuss must never reach her ears.”
“What do you mean?” Scipio asked. Even Elizabeth looked perplexed. Clearly, this was news to all of them.
“As soon as I heard of the mysterious fire that killed the innkeeper and his wife, I suspected foul play. Yet, they were the only two who knew where you came from. I already suspected you were Faversham’s bastard son—hell, that’s why the king put me in charge of the investigation in the first place. He suspects the same.”
“He’s Faversham’s son?” Scipio groaned, laying his face in his hands. “This is going to cause a mess. Lady Faversham is going to be furio—”
“Lady Faversham will know nothing,” Obadiah snapped. “Now keep your tongue still until I have finished speaking. What we are about to do amounts to high treason, but it is the only thing we can do to save hundreds of lives and prevent the kingdom from tearing itself apart.”
Scipio fell silent, though his face reddened with anger at being spoken to in such a way. Elizabeth squeezed his shoulder and nodded at Obadiah to continue.
“I searched for mysterious deaths in the local area. Faversham wouldn’t stop at the innkeeper; he had too much riding on it. So when I discovered that the owner of a workhouse had been mysteriously murdered, I knew where to look.”
“Smart,” Arcturus said, but he shook his head in disgust.
“But that’s not all. When I visited the workhouse, I discovered something else there.”