Magistaire Chronicles: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 5

Ayko wore the silliest grin as he trekked through the powdery woods, paying no mind to Hazelmere's jittering. He enjoyed her company, sure, but he had learned to ignore her nervous ticks a week into their friendship. Still, the girl was more to him than just a crush; she had her talents, as brow-raising as they were.

She tugged at Ayko's sleeve and knelt when he turned around, her mossy eyes rooted on a paw print in the snow.

She traced her finger along its outline. "Five digits...clawed..." She knelt closer and wafted the air. "Carnivorous."

Ayko tilted his head and folded his arms. "That does nothing to narrow things down."

Hazelmere ignored him, instead walking past him with her nose in the air. She held up her hand when Ayko opened his mouth to speak and then stopped.

"There," she said, pointing to her right.

Ayko followed her gaze to the clusters of trees at his side and unsheathed his shortsword, hacking away at any stray branches or thorny, flowering plants that stood in his way. He ripped several weeds from the ground to find another paw print resembling the first. The young man's eyes glinted, and he hopped away, his grin widening with each new claw mark etched into the snow.

His face fell when the tracks stopped, and the trees grew more sparse. Blood spatters stained the snow, and the occasional tuft of striped fur clung to the ice-coated bark of several trees they passed.

Hazelmere took one in her hands and felt it between her fingers. "Rough..." she said absently.

Ayko cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is it supposed to be?"

Hazelmere blinked at him. "...Have you ever actually seen a Wolfcat?"

Ayko puffed his chest. "Of course! Striped fur...carnivorous..." He ran a hand through his hair. "We've got the right trail, for sure!"

Hazelmere sighed, her lips twitching with a frown. "Let's hope so..."

The blood splatters grew the further they walked, eventually turning to a trail of bloodied prints. Claw marks accompanied the freshly stained paw prints, along with clumps of soaked fur. They were stained crimson but were thinner and lacked stripes.

Ayko sneered upon sniffing the air. He didn't need Haze to tell him it smelled of decaying flesh. Tucking his nose into his tunic, the young man sprinted ahead, ignoring his friend's pleas for him to wait.

Swatting the leaves of shrubs and low-hanging trees aside, Ayko's eyes widened upon finding the source of such an accursed smell—a Coyolote lying in a pool of its blood. Claw marks riddled the creature's brown fur, and one of its antlers had been snapped in two. A chunk was also missing from its nape.

Ayko jumped upon hearing the rustling of leaves behind him. He pointed his sword only to lower it upon meeting Hazelmere's gaze. His friend's warm expression was unusually morose.

"I told you to wait!" she said, seizing his arm. "We need to go now."

Ayko snatched his arm away. "Leave? Now?" he snorted. "When I'm this close to rocking Yarrow's seven-foot world? I'll pass," he said, turning away from her.

"I'm with you," Hazelmere began. She tugged Ayko's sleeve. "But you don't understand, I went about this wrong! The beast we've been tracking isn't—"

Ayko raised his brow when the ground shook beneath his feet while his friend stumbled over her words. He whirled around, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. His chest clenched, but he stood tall, staring directly into the beast's beady eyes.

"Hmm?" Ayko looked the beast up and down. It gaped its mouth of jagged teeth, crouching over the Coyolote protectively.

"Orange fur...striped...short face...fat as all hell..." The young man cupped his chin. Yarrow hauled one of these into the village once. What was its name?