Chapter 24

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Scipio's office was as hot as it had been the last time, but today the shutters on the window had been opened, leaving a bright beam of light that cut between Fletcher and the Provost's desk. He had been staring at Fletcher through steepled fingers for the past minute, and Fletcher was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

'Why did you lie to me, boy?' Scipio asked, his eyes flicking between Ignatius and Fletcher's face.

'I did not mean to,' Fletcher said, then, after a moment, adding, 'Provost Scipio, sir.'

'I asked you where you got that demon, and you replied that Arcturus had sent you. Do you think that answered my question? Do you think that the answer you gave did not have certain implications? Didn't you think that after I spoke to Arcturus I would know the truth?' Scipio's voice was calm and composed, a deep contrast to the bellowing man he had seen in the canteen just a few minutes before. Fletcher wasn't sure which he preferred.

'I . . . don't know why I said it. It was true that Arcturus had sent me, but I knew what you meant. It was wrong of me to lie to you. I just wanted to be allowed to study here so badly. I am sorry, sir.'

Fletcher hung his head, feeling foolish. If he had simply told the truth, perhaps he would be in a lesson with Arcturus right now, learning how to produce a wyrdlight. Instead, he was now at risk of being expelled from Vocans on the very first day, for lying to a superior officer. Scipio harrumphed in what Fletcher hoped was approval and then beckoned him over to his desk.

'I am at fault as well. I should have pried a bit closer. After all, researching how to capture new species of demons is something that every battlemage has been tasked with. I assumed that you would not know the magnitude of the implications that your Salamander signified . . . I have been doing far too much assuming of late,' he said with a sigh. 'Arcturus has explained how you came by your demon . . . an orc shaman's summoning scroll, of all things. I suspect my frustration has stemmed from my disappointment that we have not made some great breakthrough, only got lucky. However, I must ask that you leave the book Arcturus told me about with the librarian, in case she can glean some knowledge from it. James Baker was obviously a secretive man.'

Fletcher stood in hopeful silence as the old warrior considered him. Eventually, Scipio pulled out a sheet of paper and laid it on the desk in front of him.

'This is the pledge that all officer cadets must sign before they join Hominum's military. Once you have signed, you will officially be a student soldier at this academy and working at His Majesty's pleasure. Your annual income will be that of one thousand shillings, minus room, board and tuition. It's all there in writing. Make your mark and be off with you.' He held a large quill out to Fletcher, who scrawled his name on the dotted line at the bottom, his heart filled with joy.

'No surname?' Scipio asked, peering at the writing.

'I was never given one,' Fletcher muttered with some embarrassment.

'Well, put something. Officers are usually known by their surname, not their first,' Scipio said, tapping at the empty space beside Fletcher's name. Berdon's surname had been Wulf, so he scribbled that down.

'Get to the atrium, Cadet Wulf. Your sponsor is teaching your first lesson, and you are five minutes late,' Scipio said, giving him a rare smile.

When Fletcher got to the atrium the room was already dotted with the wandering wyrdlights, blue orbs that drifted around the room like fireflies. In the bright teal light, he saw the nobles laughing and floating one after the other from their fingers, competing to see who could create the largest. Othello, Genevieve and Rory were the only commoners there, but they stood away from the nobles in miserable silence.

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