The Inquisition (Summoner, #2)(44)
Atilla had a good heart and was a capable warrior, but Fletcher would not choose him, not for this. Now, he only needed a reason that Atilla would understand.
‘I choose Cress,’ he said, but held up his hand as Atilla began to protest. ‘Othello and Atilla’s parents would never forgive me, if their sons were in the one team that didn’t make it, both killed in a single stroke of misfortune. Better to spread the risk. The king’s army do not allow brothers to serve in the same regiment for that very reason.’
Atilla bowed his head, then gave the curtest of nods.
‘I won the Tournament too, in case you forgot, Fletcher,’ Cress said loudly, already walking across the sand. ‘And it’s Cress Freyja, by the way.’
‘I had not forgotten,’ Fletcher whispered as she took her place beside them. ‘That is the other reason. Good to have you on board, Cress Freyja.’
‘Seraph, your turn,’ Rook said, turning his back on them.
Seraph gave the dark-haired girl a sidelong look, but only for a moment.
‘Atilla Thorsager, of course. Come here, you grumpy bugger,’ Seraph said with a wide smile, beckoning the dwarf over. Atilla rolled his eyes as he walked down the steps, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. The two must have become closer while Fletcher was away.
‘And finally, Malik,’ Rook said.
‘I’m very happy to chose Verity Faversham,’ Malik said, smiling as the dark-haired girl walked into the torchlight. ‘I’m surprised she wasn’t picked first.’
When the girl joined her team, Fletcher couldn’t help but stare as she shook out a bundle of sable hair. She was beautiful, perhaps more so than any girl he had ever seen, with a heart-shaped face and large, expressive eyes that seemed to linger on him as she approached her team. For a moment, her name made no impression on him, and it took a growl of disgust from Othello to remind him.
‘She looks just like her grandmother Ophelia, don’t you think, Fletcher?’
Fletcher saw the resemblance, but found it difficult to associate her with the hard-eyed woman who ruled the Triumvirate with Zacharias and Didric. Even her Inquisitor father, Charles, seemed a long way from the girl, despite their shared pale complexions. Verity greeted Malik with a warm smile and embraced Penelope and Rufus with open arms.
Sylva elbowed him in the side, and Fletcher realised he was staring. He shook his head, trying to remember that the Favershams were enemies.
‘She’s a first year?’ Fletcher asked.
‘Aye,’ Othello confirmed. ‘Though I didn’t see much of her around. Kept herself to herself, spent most of her free time in her room studying or away in Corcillum.’
Fletcher watched as the rest of the teams lined up, waiting for Rook’s next announcement.
‘As you all know, the scrying stones that have made this mission possible were generously provided by Tarquin and Isadora’s father, Verity’s grandmother and Didric himself,’ Rook said, nodding at the respective students. ‘I think we should all take a moment to thank the Forsyth, Faversham and Cavell families for their generosity.’
He stared expectantly at the other students. The Forsyth twins and Didric grinned as Fletcher and his team muttered their unenthusiastic thanks, although Verity simply blushed and looked at her feet.
‘Very good,’ Rook continued. ‘Now, I have an announcement for you all. There is a prize for this mission, to keep things interesting for both the participants and the spectators around the Empire. Whichever team succeeds in rescuing Lady Cavendish will receive one thousand sovereigns, to be divided equally among the team members. There will also be another five hundred sovereigns for any team that participates in the destruction of the goblin eggs. After all, there’s nothing like some healthy competition.’
He grinned at the students as the room filled with furtive whispers. It was a king’s ransom, enough to outfit a small army. The reward came as no surprise to Fletcher, though it mattered little to him. If, in the depths of the jungle, a team lost heart, the reward would be a strong motivator for them to do their duty.
‘If you would turn around,’ Rook ordered, pointing at the doorway behind them, and Fletcher spun. Four demons stood in the entrance, three of which he instantly recognised.
‘Teams, meet your new demons,’ Rook said.
Lysander, Lovett’s Griffin, walked proudly down the steps, beating the air with his wings to send a spray of sand in Isadora’s team’s direction. It was clear whose team he had been selected for, as he made his way straight towards Fletcher before pawing the ground beside them.
‘She can’t,’ Fletcher whispered, his heart dropping at the thought of Lovett confined to a wheelchair, alone. ‘He’s her legs, her wings. He’s her best friend. All she’ll have left is Valens.’
‘She wants to protect us, Fletcher. This is her way of doing that,’ Sylva murmured. ‘We’ll bring Lysander back, safe and sound. And it will be as if she’s right there with us. She can scry using her mind, practically inhabit his body like she did with Valens. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s doing it now.’
Lysander gave Fletcher a nudge with his beak, as if to draw Fletcher’s attention to the next demon that bounded down the stairs. It was a gesture that felt unusually human and, as Fletcher glanced down, he saw Lysander wink at him. Lovett was in there all right, and Fletcher grinned back at her.