The Outcast (Summoner #4)(10)
“Home, sweet home. If you need anything, keep it to yourself. I’m paid to serve the noble-born children, not freaks like you. Common summoners. It’s not natural!” Ulfr shook his head and began to walk away.
“I want to tell the provost how poorly the servants are treated here. When do I get to meet him?” Arcturus asked again, hoping to make peace with the dwarf.
Ulfr turned and gave Arcturus a bitter laugh.
“You’ve already met him. The provost is Obadiah Forsyth.”
CHAPTER
6
ARCTURUS WOKE FEELING REFRESHED. Despite the cold drafts of wind that gusted through the glassless window, Sacharissa had wrapped herself around him like a musty fur coat, keeping him warm and comfortable all night.
She whined in complaint as he extricated himself from her embrace and stood shivering in the room. He yanked the threadbare blanket from beneath her and wrapped it around his shoulders.
“Come on, lazybones, we’re going to go find the baths and get ourselves cleaned up. First impressions are important.”
Sacharissa rolled over, then blinked her four eyes at him sorrowfully.
“None of that.” Arcturus grinned. “Your puppy dog act won’t do you any favors here.”
She snorted with feigned annoyance before padding to the door and nudging it open with her nose.
Arcturus followed her out into the corridor, past the storerooms and down the stairs. She snuffled at the ground, as if she was hunting for something.
“I hope you’re not taking me to the kitchens,” Arcturus murmured, trailing behind her. “We need to find the baths.”
As if she could sense his meaning, she turned and looked at him. When his eyes met hers, he felt the connection between them flare, and for a brief moment his senses swam with a new awareness. Sounds became more acute, smells were intense and vivid. Only his vision suffered, the blue-white light of the morning outside turning into shades of gray and shifting strangely in front of his eyes.
He staggered at the sensation, steadying himself on the wall. As quickly as it came, the feeling left him, but not before he sensed the scent that Sacharissa was tracking. Water.
“Lead on.” Arcturus smiled, shooing her forward. He grinned, relishing the memory of his new power. It was fascinating to learn that Sacharissa might not be able to see colors. Who knew?
She turned down the spiral staircase, taking him down to the atrium while snuffling at the ground. It was obviously still early, for the castle was as lifeless and silent as a tomb, so he almost jumped out of his skin when a voice hailed him from the balconies above.
“Arcturus!” Obadiah Forsyth snapped, his face peering over the metal railing from the floor above him. “Who gave you permission to leave your quarters?”
Before Arcturus could answer, Obadiah’s head disappeared and footsteps echoed in the stairwell behind. He emerged red-faced, an accusatory finger pointed at Arcturus like a weapon.
“Sir, I am sorry, I needed to use the facilities,” Arcturus said, layering his voice with as much respect as he could. “I did not mean to break any rules.”
It was an almost-automatic response, for he had learned from his time with the innkeeper that deference could save him from a beating, or worse. It had the desired effect, for Obadiah paused midstride.
“Well … I guess that is a fair excuse,” he grunted begrudgingly, dropping his hand to his side before walking around Arcturus, examining him.
Arcturus lowered his head and watched Obadiah through half-closed lashes, ready for any sudden moves. Instead, the noble lifted Arcturus’s chin with a knuckle and nodded approvingly.
“Well, I’m pleased that you know to respect your elders. And betters for that matter,” Obadiah said, laying a hand on his shoulder and propelling him away from the doorway.
“Your morning ablutions shall have to wait. The king has asked me to find out what level summoner you are. Come with me.”
Arcturus bit back a groan and followed Obadiah up the stairs. Sacharissa pattered behind them, whining as she sensed Arcturus’s agitation. After a moment, Obadiah spun on his heel and kicked at Sacharissa, but she skipped out of the way with a growl.
“If you can’t control your demon’s infernal noise, I will shut her up for good,” Obadiah snarled.
“Sacharissa, stay,” Arcturus said hastily, pointing at the ground. She cocked her head at him, as if to ask: Are you sure?
“Be a good do—” He caught himself. “… demon and wait here for me. I’m sure it won’t take long.”
She stared at him pitifully, then settled down and laid her head on her front paws.
“Good girl,” Arcturus said. Obadiah grunted, then continued on down the corridor.
They walked for a few minutes in silence before curiosity overcame Arcturus’s fear.
“What do you mean by ‘level’?”
“Different species of demons have different levels of demonic energy. For example, a Canid is a level-seven demon. That means, to have been able to summon her, you are at least a level-seven summoner,” Obadiah replied, without turning around.
Arcturus realized they were heading toward the southwest tower. As they turned into what Arcturus expected to be a stairwell leading to the top of the tower, they entered a large circular chamber with a ceiling that stretched hundreds of feet above them to the roof of the tower.