The Outcast (Summoner #4)(51)

CHAPTER

28

THE SUN WAS SETTING by the time Rotter allowed them to make camp. He had pushed them hard all day, hacking a path through the undergrowth with his sword, taking them away from the trail and then curving to follow its direction around the mountains.

Now they huddled together, deep within a broad-leafed bush, eating the squashed remains of some guava that Rotter had found on the ground and saved in his pack.

“What if I send Valens?” Elaine said, speaking up for what seemed to Arcturus the first time that day.

“No paper left; I used it all with the scroll for Athena and the message to your parents,” Edmund said, poking dejectedly at his mud-stained boots with a twig. “I thought of that already.”

Alice hugged the sad-faced noble, and kissed him on the cheek. Gelert had not returned—as far as Edmund could tell, the demon was lost, wandering aimlessly in the jungle, attempting to catch their scent. A Canid’s sense of smell was far more powerful than a dog’s, but it was still a dangerous situation.

“What do we do now?” Elaine whispered, shuffling closer to Arcturus and laying her head on his shoulder.

“We could wait it out,” Rotter said. “Hope that Harold and the others make it back and send rescuers searching for us. We could survive a day or two in the jungle, if we find a water source.”

“They may be in a worse spot than we are,” Edmund muttered. “We saw a hundred rebels following us. But there are at least another hundred unaccounted for. Maybe they followed Harold and the others.”

“We can’t rely on anyone to save us now,” Arcturus said firmly. “The only ones who are getting us out of this are ourselves.”

They looked at him, surprised at his candor. He realized he had not spoken for quite some time—but he was getting sick of letting others decide his fate. Noble or not, trustworthy or not, they were all in the same boat. Or bush, anyway.

“So what do you suggest?” Edmund asked. “We head for the front lines? Hope we don’t run into the rebels ahead of us?”

“Yes,” Arcturus said. “That’s what the plan was anyway, right? The rebels and Athena’s capture haven’t changed that.”

Edmund grunted and went back to cleaning his boots. Arcturus did not take offense—both the boy’s demons were in jeopardy. He was not sure how he would cope if Sacharissa were lost in the wilderness, or trapped somewhere by rebels hell-bent on his destruction.

“There’s something else we need to speak about,” Alice said, changing the subject. “Arcturus … why are the rebels looking for you?”

Arcturus felt icy fear surge through his veins.

“I don’t know,” he said, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rotter asked.

Arcturus stared at him. How could Rotter know? Even Arcturus didn’t know, and that was after his strange conversation with Crawley.

“A common summoner. He could be the rebel figurehead. Even their leader. The nobles would not seem so high and mighty when commoners can summon too.”

“But…,” Arcturus began.

“They could take him around the land,” Rotter continued, “proving that some commoners can summon. It is only the fear of your demons that keeps the common man down.”

“I’m not a commoner!” Arcturus snapped.

He regretted his words as soon as he said them.

“What do you mean?” Edmund said, looking up from his boot. Alice simply stared at him, wide-eyed.

“I’m … I’m not what you think I am,” he muttered, avoiding their eyes.

Silence. Arcturus paused, his heart twisting with instant regret at his outburst.

“I’m Lord Faversham’s son. His bastard son. That’s why I can summon.”

He cursed himself silently. Telling them that didn’t help … it probably made things worse.

“I … I didn’t know,” Edmund said.

“It’s why they tried to kill me. Charles and Rook. So nobody would find out that I’m Faversham’s bastard.”

“That makes two of us,” Rotter said, patting Arcturus’s back. “Never knew my father either. ’Tis nothing to be ashamed of.”

“And we won’t tell a soul, will we, Edmund?” Alice said firmly.

“Of course not,” Edmund said.

Arcturus didn’t know what to believe, but that was the least of his concerns.

“It doesn’t matter,” Arcturus sniffed, feeling the hot sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. “They don’t know that. They’ll want me anyway.”

“Well, at least they don’t want to kill you,” Elaine said brightly, looking up at him.

That didn’t make Arcturus feel better. But in that moment, he knew he had to choose a side. He had shared too much with his impulsive outburst already, but the nobles would need more if they were going to trust him.

In for a penny, in for a shilling.

“I may be a half noble, but Provost Forsyth says there are true commoners out there who have manifested the ability to summon,” Arcturus said, the words spilling out after keeping them pent up inside for so long.

He knew it was a secret, but he’d be damned if he was going to keep it now. He didn’t owe the provost a thing.