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

Chapter 35

The group stared at the black stone in horror, holding their breaths. Lovett was clutching her tether with a white knuckled grip as the pentacle spat violet sparks, sizzling and smoking on the leather around them with the stench of burning hair.

The Oculus flickered into life. The image was fuzzy and unfocussed, but it panned slowly as Valens looked at the iridescent treetops above. The little demon was alive!

'I was afraid of this,' Lovett muttered. 'This is the time of year that the Shrikes migrate across our hunting grounds. In previous years I would wait until next month to begin with your lesson in the ether, but with you first years taking part in the tournament I had to move it up. Damn Scipio and his rush to get you on the battlefield! In his day, there were five years of study before graduation. He should know better!'

She cursed long and hard, her tirade blacker than a Vesanian sailor's. Fletcher's ears reddened at her colourful language, but he smiled to himself. Lovett could swear with the best of them!

He tried to picture a Shrike from his studies, but could only remember that it was a dangerous, birdlike creature that visited Hominum's hunting grounds in the ether seasonally.

'The Shrike will be coming back, but I can feel Valens has hurt one of his wings. He's going to have to race to the portal. There's no way he can fight a Shrike; it is three classes above him. Maybe five if it's the matriarch in their flock.'

The last sentence meant little to Fletcher, but he wondered what class ranking Ignatius would fall under. As the Mite buzzed into life and jerked into the air, his thoughts turned back to the task at hand.

The poor demon flew slowly, hampered by his injured wing. He skimmed over the barren desert, buffeted by the low winds that spun the dust across his vision. As the minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly, Fletcher noticed something ahead of them. It was a shadow, though of what he was not certain.

'There's something above us,' he said, pointing at the black shape on the stone.

'I know. It has been with us since the forest. Shrikes like to injure their prey with a surprise attack, then follow the victim from above until it collapses from its wounds. It is an effective technique, but it will work to our advantage today. Wild demons have an almost instinctual fear of portals, so it is rare for one to come through unless we drag it in. If we can get Valens to return through the portal, the Shrike will leave him alone. Then I can infuse him, and he will heal just fine. I just hope he can make it,' Lovett replied, pushing a sweaty strand of hair from out of her eyes.

Finally, the portal appeared on the horizon. It was not a moment too soon, for Valens's flight was becoming jerky and the Oculus's image was dimming with worrying frequency.

'Just a little further,' Lovett hissed, her brow furrowed in concentration.

But the Mite had gone as far as he could go. Valens tumbled to the ground a few feet from the portal, landing in a puff of dust. He lay motionless, the only sign he was still alive was the glow of the stone, still showing the plumes of dust as they twisted in the wind's eddies.

'Quick, get me the ether gear, now! It's in the last cupboard on the far wall. I don't know how long we have left!'

Seraph was the first to react, sprinting to the back of the room and heaving out a bulky package.

'I need help, it's heavy!' he shouted. Othello hastened to his assistance and together they hauled it to Lovett. Fletcher continued to stare into the stone. The shadow had swooped by again.

'Can't I send Ignatius in to get him?' Fletcher asked.

'No, our manas would merge if your demon entered through my portal. Mixing manas is difficult to master. If you fail on the first attempt, the portal will close, and we will lose Valens for good.'