As Edmund reluctantly agreed to Alice’s demand, Arcturus noticed the servant returning, pushing a rattling cart over the cobbles.
“About time,” Zacharias grunted, shoving the servant aside to pluck a crossbow from within. “Thanks for looking after it for me, Edmund.”
Arcturus could see the Forsyth family crest carved into the weapon’s stock, a strange four-legged demon with three intertwined heads on long, snakelike necks.
Then it was the twins’ turn to delve into the cart, revealing a matching pair—elegant pieces that they loaded with practiced efficiency. They had done this before.
Edmund gave Arcturus a curious look as the young commoner peered into the cart, and Edmund leaned in to pull out his own crossbow. It was made of black, polished wood, and the stock was carved to fit the owner’s shoulder. Arcturus resisted the jealousy that surged through him, even as he wondered for a moment if he had been brought to load Edmund’s crossbow for him.
“Made from ebony, grown right here in Raleighshire,” Edmund said, brushing an invisible fleck of dirt from the beautiful weapon. “Made by the finest dwarven bowyers. You load it by pulling back on this lever, here.”
Edmund heaved on a metal spar that sat crosswise beneath the crossbow’s string and eased it back, until the string clicked into place and the lever lay flat against the stock.
Arcturus blanched. Maybe he was going to be the loader after all.
“Then you place a bolt—sometimes called a quarrel—here,” Edmund continued, tugging what to Arcturus’s eyes looked like a short, fat arrow from a quiver in the cart, and laying it in a groove in front of the taut string.
“When you’ve got something in your sights, you place the butt against your shoulder, look down the bolt, and … pull the trigger.”
Edmund swung up the crossbow in one smooth motion and the weapon twanged, sending the quarrel whistling through the air. Arcturus ducked instinctively, but the projectile was aimed well above him. There was a thud, and then Arcturus saw the sign that hung outside a nearby tavern swinging back and forth.
“Edmund,” Alice chided, looking at the splintered sign. “They won’t be able to fix that.”
“Good riddance,” Edmund replied, grinning. “It’s got our family crest on it. Hate the damned thing.”
Arcturus squinted, and could just make out what appeared to be a Manticore in its center—a hybrid of scorpion and lion. He couldn’t help but agree with Edmund … it was an ugly-looking creature.
Edmund handed the crossbow over, and Arcturus looked at it dejectedly. He guessed he’d be carrying Edmund’s crossbow as well. Still, at least he was here, away from Crawley and in the sun. It wasn’t as if he wanted to kill any gazelle anyway.
“Well, don’t look so glum,” Edmund said, a hint of a smile playing across the raven-haired noble’s lips. “Don’t you like it?”
“What do you mean?” Arcturus asked, confused.
“It’s yours,” Edmund said, tugging another crossbow from the cart and hefting it. “Just make sure you don’t let the teachers see it when we’re back at Vocans.”
“Bloody hell,” Elaine said as Arcturus stared at the weapon in amazement. “Where’s mine?”
“How about you share mine for now,” Alice offered.
Arcturus turned to thank Edmund, but the boy was already walking away, a bundle of crossbow bolts in a quiver over his shoulder.
“Come on, grab a quiver and let’s get moving,” Edmund called. “We’ve got dinner to catch.”
CHAPTER
21
ARCTURUS CROUCHED LOW IN the long grass, sweat dotting his brow as he sighted down his crossbow at the grazing beast ahead of him.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Edmund whispered beside him. “Pull the trigger as you breathe out. Easy does it.”
The tip of the quarrel swam in and out of focus, the black-and-white stripes of Arcturus’s quarry blurring in the background. Perspiration trickled down his spine, pooling in the hollow of his back.
Arcturus closed his eyes and fired, and the crossbow leaped in his hands, thudding into his shoulder as it spat the bolt with a dull twang. It whistled harmlessly over the zebra’s head, disappearing into the long grass beyond.
The creature froze for a moment, blinking its long eyelashes as it looked in their direction, then went back to cropping the grass with its buck-yellow teeth.
Edmund squeezed his shoulder, even as Arcturus was flooded with relief. He hadn’t wanted to kill it. It reminded him too much of the horses he had cared for in the past. They were probably the closest things he had ever had to friends.
“It’s all right, old chum,” Edmund whispered. “There’ll be another chance tomorrow.”
There was a rustle as the young lord raised his own weapon.
Arcturus tried not to breathe, watching as Edmund’s crossbow eased upward, then hung perfectly still in the air. The boy had barely broken a sweat, squinting down the quarrel with a practiced eye.
The zebra bolted, galloping toward its nearby herd. Then, in a shifting mirage of black-and-white stripes, the herd itself moved on in a tumult of thundering hooves.
Edmund cursed, but Arcturus was already up, his head cocked to hear the noise that had startled the zebra. There it was again. A scream in the distance, somewhere to the east.
He turned and saw Elaine running toward him, her black hair streaming as she twisted her head to look behind her. It was then that he noticed the demon.
It was green-brown in color and as large as a stallion, with hooked claws and snakelike fangs. It chased Elaine, lumbering across the plains like an iguana, its three heads swaying on their sinuous necks with every step. Arcturus recognized it immediately as the demon he had seen but an hour before on the stock of Zacharias’s gun. Arcturus could now see the boy beyond, doubled over in laughter as Elaine’s shrill screams rang out. Zacharias was tormenting her.
Without thinking, Arcturus tugged free his summoning leather and unleashed Sacharissa. Then the two were running, and Arcturus was cranking back his crossbow with strength born of fury.
He waited for Elaine to rush past him before kneeling and loading the crossbow. His eyes focused along its length, narrowed against the setting sun on the horizon. Sacharissa crouched beside him, and he laid the stock against her back, steadying his aim as the demon trampled closer and closer.
It was only now that Zacharias seemed to notice, and the demon faltered as its master ordered it to turn back. But it was too late. Arcturus took a deep breath … and fired.
The bolt whipped into the air, striking the beast square in its chest. Its front legs collapsed on impact, and the demon twisted and fell, throwing up the dry savannah dust as its trio of squeals echoed across the plains.
“Trebius!” Arcturus heard Zacharias scream his demon’s name.
He looked up at the boy, now no more than a stone’s throw away. The young lord’s eyes were blazing with hatred, and he raised his hand and traced a symbol in the air.
Then the world flared with light as a ball of fire erupted into existence, streaking across the savannah and setting the long grass ablaze.
Sacharissa covered Arcturus with her body, for all the good it would do. He closed his eyes. Stupid. He had been so stupid. Injuring a noble’s demon, when Elaine had never been in any real danger.
The world roared hot, and beneath his eyelids his vision seared white at the intensity of the blaze. And yet … no pain.
He cracked open his eyes, only to see the flames buffet harmlessly around them, stopped by an opaque wall that seemed to hang in the air ahead of him. Tiny cracks appeared along its surface, but it held strong. Soon the fireball dissipated, until the only sign of its existence was the channel of blackened, smoldering grass left in its wake.
Sacharissa whined and licked his face, her fear and confusion mirroring his own feelings.