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

Chapter 24

'That was quick. Is it as easy as all that?' Fletcher asked, watching as Tarquin released a ball of light the size of a fist, much to the amazement of the other nobles.

'No, we haven't even been shown yet. Having summoners as parents has taught the nobles a thing or two,' Rory whispered, his face a picture of disappointment and jealousy.

Arcturus was standing in the middle of the room, watching the nobles with impassive eyes. He clicked his fingers and the balls were snuffed out, sending the room into pitch-blackness. The atrium slowly glowed again as a small wyrdlight appeared at the end of Arcturus's finger. Thin strands of blue blossomed from his fingertips and pulsed into the light, expanding it to a sphere the size of a man's head. He released it above him, where it floated, motionless, as if suspended from the ceiling. The room was immediately filled with a warm blue light.

'I did not ask you to demonstrate; I asked if any of you were versed in the technique already. Clearly your noble parents have already taught you this. As such, you may leave if you wish. Your timetables will have been left on your beds. I suggest you memorise them. Tardiness is unacceptable.' Arcturus gave Fletcher a telling look at those last words.

'I knew this lesson would be a joke. Come on, Penelope, let the amateurs play catch up,' Isadora snickered. There was another noble girl, a brunette with large hazel eyes who nodded after a moment of hesitation. Isadora flounced off, followed by the girl, who cast an apologetic look over her shoulder at Arcturus.

Tarquin sauntered behind with the two other nobles, a large sable-haired boy with skin as dark as Seraph's and another, slighter boy with mousy brown hair and a cherubic face. As Tarquin passed by, he looked at Fletcher's ragged, ill-fitting uniform and the bruises on his face. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and walked on. Fletcher was in too good a mood to let himself care at that moment.

'Let them leave,' Arcturus said once the nobles were out of earshot. 'They have not learned to control the movement of their wyrdlights. Next lesson, it is they who will be playing catch up. The principles of wyrdlights follow the same principles as all spell casting.'

He turned to the commoners and gave them an appraising look.

'The first lesson is very important; you will find that you all have different capacities for spellcraft. Your demons are the source of all your mana, and the species, experience and age of your demon will determine how much they have and how quickly it recharges.'

Mana. That was the word that Seraph had used yesterday. Fletcher guessed that it meant some kind of energy, used to power spells. Now Arcturus was walking towards them, the wyrdlight above him moving in unison. Under the ethereal glow, his scar looked grislier than ever.

'Excuse me, where are Seraph and Atlas?' Fletcher asked, pushing his way in front of Rory and Genevieve so that Arcturus would finally notice him.

'Sir,' Arcturus prompted.

'Sir,' Fletcher parroted with exasperation.

'I suspect they have gone to collect their demons. Since I chose to sponsor you but did not give you one of my demons, as is usually our way, the Provost decided it would be only fair if I provide an imp for one of the other commoners. I captured it yesterday, at great risk to Sacharissa. I hope you are worth it,' he said with a hint of regret in his voice, much to Fletcher's discouragement.

'Does that mean it was a powerful demon, sir?' Rory asked.

'Not necessarily. It will be in time, but it was too rare for me to pass up. One of your friends is very lucky to have received it. I had never come across one before. Now, enough questions. Sit down on the floor and close your eyes.'