Magistaire Chronicles: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 17

Elies wiped the sweat from his brow, huffing and puffing while tightening his grip around the staff in his hands.

Yarrow stood across from him, tapping his staff impatiently. "More ferocity!" he demanded.

Elies slacked his jaw at him. His arms were stiff as stone, and as were his legs; what nerve the old man had to expect more from him. At least he's not kicking my arse, he thought.

The young man twirled his staff, ready to strike the air again before it fell to his feet. He bent and lifted his head mid-reach at the sound of approaching footsteps, lowering his brow when the shadowy outline burst from the brush.

He looks familiar, Elies thought as the figure stepped closer.

Blue armor, brown hair tied back in a bun, a jaw sharp enough to cut a man in half, and cobalt eyes that held a dangerous light. Another man stepped out behind him, one garbed in red steel from head to toe with two behemoth-sized blades on his back.

"Chestplate!" Elies gasped. "Yarrow!" He looked upon the old adventurer with wide eyes. "Those men, they're—"

"Shadowhands," Yarrow said, his voice even, but the look on his face was black. "So Reina's song hadn't hexed me that night. I had hoped it had."

Elies cocked an eyebrow at him. "Shadowhands?" he asked. "Why would Shadowhands be...?"

"Naranin!" Chestplate strutted as if walking on air, a smug grin lifting his face. "How I've missed you!"

Elies frowned. His brow twitched. "Naranin?"

"His real name, Lightweight!" Chestplate smiled fondly at him like he was an old friend, but the glint in his eyes made him shiver. "The old man loves his secrets, don't you know? You could say I'm his biggest secret–a shadow of his past, if you will!"

"You're a plague! A disease and nothing more!" Ashencrane took her place at Yarrow's side, affixing the auburn-haired adventurer with a cold stare.

Chestplate snorted. "Ashencrane," he said with a mocking laugh. "Even in your old age, you're still a bitch." A scowl replaced his smile. "Honestly, Naranin...how long did you think you could hide behind her?" He shot Elies and Ilta a quick glance. "Behind these insects before I found you?"

Lightning zipped across the night sky when Chestplate unsheathed his sword, lighting up the sky like fireworks. "I have to commend that boy and that knife-eared girlfriend of his," he began. "Keeping those two around led me here like I thought it would. And this time, old friend, I'll be taking more than an arm and an eye."

Elies' stomach turned to knots, and he widened his eyes. He had hoped that boy and girl weren't who he thought they were, but he knew better. Flames lapped at his fingers and palms, heating the staff in his hands. "Where are they?" he demanded.

Chestplate looked him up and down as if he had no right to speak. "Who cares? Perhaps they met the same fate as your village."

Elies followed Chestplate's gaze as he turned his head. The flames' roaring was faint, but towers of smoke rose from behind the trees, staining the horizon red. His heart raced, and a lump formed in his throat.

"Bastard!" Elies roared. He lunged forward only for a set of hands to clamp around his waist and freeze him in place.

"Are you stupid?" Ilta whispered. She yanked him by the back of his tunic and he didn't resist, though he shot Chestplate a look fiery enough to blind him.

Yarrow tapped his staff furiously, water coiling around it. He clenched his jaw and looked at Elies from the corner of his eye. "Gods damn it all, I should've known your fool brother would do such a thing..." His eye met Ashencrane's next. "But does Haze not know a devil when she sees one?"