The Outcast (Summoner #4)(80)

Still, the crossbowmen would fill him full of bolts before either Sacharissa or Gelert got to them, especially now that both were injured. Ulfr might have the chance to help his friends escape, but either way, Arcturus would be dead. He did not see an outcome that had a happy ending.

His only chance was that they missed, but that was not likely at such close range. So he would have to dive aside at the right moment and hope for the best.

“I’ll take the boy; you take the demon,” the leader growled.

And fired.

Arcturus tumbled backward. Saw the wooden shaft halfway protruding from his stomach, felt the numbness of shock in his mind and the sudden piercing pain in his center.

Sacharissa. He held her still, though it took every ounce of control he could muster, as his body straddled hers in the confusion of the sudden attack.

The crossbows thrummed, one clattering against the wall, another thudding through his shoulder and pinning him to his beloved demon’s side. She whimpered, but obeyed his command not to attack, even as he lay dying in the shadow of the doorway, the blood pooling in his lap while he grasped the shaft with his hands.

The rebels stared at Arcturus, as if they could not believe what they had done. To his left, Arcturus could make out Gelert, scrambling across the floor, but Ulfr had not had time to free the Canid of his bonds.

“Run,” Arcturus choked, and his consciousness wrenched as Sacharissa was forced to turn tail and disappear into the gloom of the corridors. With any luck, he would die soon and she would give in to the ether’s call, fading back into her world before the rebels could hunt her down and kill her.

He sensed her anguish, but he felt a calm fall over him that stiffened his resolve. They could do no more to him now. He had done his duty.

“Load!” screamed the leader, his hands scrabbling to place another crossbow bolt in its firing slot. The remaining rebels had drawn their swords and advanced on Gelert as the demon snapped and snarled, wriggling as his bonds restricted him to dragging himself forward with a single claw. Within moments they would chop him to pieces.

Blue, bright as a flash of lightning, streaked across Arcturus’s vision. The leader, his crossbow half-raised, seemed to shudder, then erupted in a sizzling wreath of flashing, jagged energy. Beside him, the other two rebels twitched and jerked on the floor, consumed by the same brilliant light. Their bodies smoked, and the room filled with the acrid stench of cooking hair and flesh.

Even as the edges of his vision darkened, Arcturus could see the source of the spell, sitting up in his cart, face twisted in a snarl of anger.

Edmund had awakened.





CHAPTER

46

HE HEARD THE WEEPING first. Deep, sniffling sobs and wails, and the sound of hushed shushing from the others.

“He’s dead,” Zacharias’s voice said. “Just leave him—we need to bar the doors.”

“We’re not giving up on him,” Elaine cried, and Arcturus could feel the cool, dainty hands that clasped his own, and the cold of the cobblestones against the bare skin of his back.

He opened his eyes. Elaine’s and Alice’s faces hovered above him, creased with concern.

“He’s alive!” Elaine gasped, her pale face streaked with tears.

She hugged him close, and Arcturus braced himself for the pain from his stomach. But there was none, nor any from the wounds on his neck.

“What happened?” Arcturus asked. His voice came out in no more than a whisper. Elaine released him, and he half sat up. Even that effort was a struggle, so Alice helped him with a gentle arm. He felt as weak as a newborn lamb.

“Ulfr cut Edmund’s hands free,” Alice answered, smiling through glistening eyes. “He was faking unconsciousness, waiting for his moment.”

“Lucky,” Arcturus managed.

The room was bright from the light of a half-dozen torches. Josephine was sitting in the corner of the room, her knees clutched to her chest, and Zacharias was pacing in front of her, his eyes wild with panic.

Prince Harold and Edmund stood beside Arcturus, though Edmund looked as weak as Arcturus felt; his face was even paler than usual and his eyes were deeply ringed with dark circles.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” Alice said, her voice cracking with emotion. “You almost died for us. I’ll never doubt you again.”

Arcturus looked down at his body, where the crusted red-brown blood had dried against his upper chest and stomach. There were no wounds, and now he realized that Edmund had stopped him from dying with a healing spell.

He tried to stand, but a sudden rush of dizziness took him, and he fell to one knee. Elaine helped him to his feet and he gave her a weak smile.

“You lost a lot of blood,” Edmund croaked from beside him. “It took me a while to get to you.”

“A hell of a lot,” Prince Harold said, and now Arcturus could see he was holding Edmund up, just as Elaine was doing with him.

Edmund’s eyes were unfocused, and his breathing seemed labored. Even though he was awake, he needed a doctor, and soon.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Elaine said, giving Arcturus a soft punch on the arm.

Arcturus looked for Sacharissa, and in his mind he could sense her running back, realizing he was safe. She was furious at him for forcing her away from him, but her relief was so palpable that Arcturus found himself grinning stupidly.