Summoner: The Novice (Book 1) SAMPLE OF NOW PUBLISHED BOOK

Chapter 10

The minutes ticked by at a snail's pace. The third morning bell must have rung by now and dawn was just a few hours away. Fletcher was beginning to get cold, but resisted his compulsion to shiver for fear of startling the imp. Twin plumes of steam flared to his left with every exhalation from the demon's nostrils. Its chest rose and fell in a continuous rhythm, and he could hear a gentle susurration as its hot breath tickled his ear. It was almost as if . . . the demon was sleeping! How that had happened he did not know, but he was glad he was still breathing.

When he tried to pull it from his neck it growled in its slumber and tightened itself, the claws clamping down near his jugular. He removed his fingers, and it relaxed again, chirring contentedly. It reminded him of one of the village cats that would sneak into his room during a snowstorm, refusing to leave the warmth of his lap and hissing when he tried to get up. The imp was a possessive little thing.

He got up and walked to the book, keeping his neck still, as if he were balancing a jar of water on top of his head. Crouching with difficulty, he picked it up, slid the scroll between its pages, and clutched it to his chest. If he was going to take command of this demon, he would probably need it.

It was then that he heard it: the sound of loud angry voices. He turned and saw a flickering light at the end of the graveyard. How had they found him? Perhaps a local had heard the noise, or seen the light from the orb earlier. This was unlikely: he had chosen the graveyard because it was located on a small outcrop to the north of the main village, accessible only by a treacherous goat path and almost a half-mile from the nearest dwelling.

He looked about in panic, before spotting a crumbling mausoleum in the corner of the graveyard. It was the size of a small cabin, surrounded by ornate columns and embellished with carvings of flowers, though the rain had worn away the detailing long ago. He crept up to it and ducked into the low entrance, sinking into the darkness and hunkering behind the block of stone that covered the crypt at the very end of the chamber. Fletcher knew that an ancient ossuary lay just a few feet below him, the bones of villagers from generations ago stacked like so many pieces of kindling.

He was not a moment too soon, for the glow from the burning torch tinged the ground outside his hiding place a few seconds later.

'I am beginning to think you have led us on a fool's errand, wandering around this graveyard,' came Didric's voice, thick with frustration.

'I'm telling you, I saw him walking up through the back gates of the village.' Fletcher recognised the voice as that of Calista, a newer guard and one of Didric's drinking companions. She was a hard-faced girl with a sadistic streak almost as bad as Didric's.

'Surely you understand how absurd this is,' Didric scoffed. 'That he would be wandering around the graveyard, of all places, in the dead of night. He's got no family to speak of, who would he be visiting?'

'He's got to be here. We've checked the orchards and the storehouses, and he's not in any of them. This is the only other place north of the village,' Calista insisted.

'Well, search the place. Maybe he's creeping about behind some tombstones. Come on, you too, Jakov. I'm not paying you to just stand there,' Didric commanded.

Jakov grunted, and Fletcher ducked down as he saw the man lumber past the mausoleum, Didric's torch casting a long shadow ahead of him.

This was bad. Didric and Calista he might have been able to fight off, but with Jakov . . . his only option was to make a break for it. Even then, Calista had been hired as a guard for her athletic build, and Fletcher was not sure if he could outrun her, especially with an unpredictable demon wrapped around his neck. The good thing was that Didric seemed to be the only one with a torch. Fletcher might be able to lose them in the dark.

He sunk down to the cold marble floor and waited, hoping they would leave before checking the mausoleum. It seemed such an obvious place to look, but then it probably appeared empty at first glance, with him hiding behind the stone cover. The torch light from outside dimmed as Didric wandered down the rows of graves and a heavy drizzle of rain began to patter on the roof. Fletcher allowed himself to relax; they wouldn't search for long in this downpour.

The cracked ceiling began to leak, and a thin trickle of water splattered beside him. He edged away from the growing puddle and tried to stay calm, though it was not easy knowing who was searching for him outside. He hoped this was not how the animals he hunted felt when he tracked them through the forest.

Just when he thought he had escaped them, he noticed the dark around him retreat as the light from the torch drew closer. Didric was returning! Fletcher heard swearing as the boy ducked into the mausoleum and held his breath as Didric wrung out his cloak. The torch spluttered from the rain, then finally died and cast the room in darkness. Didric swore viciously. A few moments later Jakov and Calista followed, both of them just as foul mouthed and wet.

'Did I say you could stop searching yet?' Didric growled in the darkness, but he sounded resigned.

'He's not here. He must have doubled back when I went to get you.' Calista's voice was tinged with misery.

'Don't think you're going to be paid for this,' Didric spat. 'No Fletcher, no money.'

'But we're soaked!' Jakov whined, his teeth chattering.

'Oh grow up. We're all wet. That little sneak may have given us the slip, but all that means is it will be worse for him when we do catch up with him. Come on, let's get out of here.'

Fletcher breathed a silent sigh of relief as their departing footsteps echoed through the chamber. Then, just when Fletcher thought the ordeal was over, the demon stirred. It yawned with a loud mewl and unravelled itself from his neck. With an affectionate lick of Fletcher's face, it tumbled into his lap and stretched languorously.

'What was that?' Didric hissed.

Damn.

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