Magistaire Chronicles: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 24

Ilta felt even more out of sorts than usual, if that was even possible, and it was all because of the inn. Or, to be more precise, the horde of Voidspawn running it. It seemed she could never be free from them no matter how much she tried; even now, in the confines of what was supposed to be a private bathhouse, they'd robbed her of the grace of solitude.

Ilta's scowl grew as she scrubbed her hair for the thousandth time, but her eyes smoldered when the door creaked open, giving way to her former chaperone for the night, Ljufa.

"Sleep well?" The braided-haired woman asked. She smiled and let her towel drop to the floor before sitting across from her. "I hope Una didn't do too much of a number on you."

Ilta glowered but ignored her, folding her arms while letting her talk. However, her ears perked up when she spoke of her taste in men.

"So..." Ljufa tossed her braid. "That man you're with...he's quite the handsome one. What is he to you? Your little brother? Your betrothed, perhaps?"

Ilta rolled her eyes. "Ten gold orbs, and I'll sell him to you."

Ljufa snorted. "Tempting, but these baby blues are only for you," she said with a wink.

Ilta's brow twitched. "And with that..."

She wrung out her hair and rose, reaching for her robe while Ljufa talked her ears off. Paying the woman's babbling no mind, she reached for the door only for something sharp to prick the back of her hand. The blade missed, nicking her skin and bouncing off the doorknob.

"I'd stay right where you are," Ljufa said. She twirled a second blade between her fingers but made no move to rise from the bath. "You didn't actually think you'd get away from us? From the shadows of your past?"

Ilta ripped her hand cannon from her robe. "Shadowhand!" she growled.

"Amarant sends his regards," Ljufa said, standing then leaping across the room. She swung her second blade just as Ilta fired away, knocking her weapon from her hand before the raven-haired woman seized her by the wrist.

Ilta squeezed, her arm buckling while Ljufa's blade crept closer to her throat. The tip touched her skin just as the door flung open, giving way to Una and Ayko, who stood beneath the frame with his sword in hand.

Ayko darted his eyes at Ilta and back to Ljufa, who also turned to face him. "What? I'm not good enough to murder?" He scoffed.

Ilta planted her heel in Ljufa's gut, sending her stumbling a few steps back. Upon meeting Ayko's gaze, she repressed a smile—she didn't think she'd ever be relieved to see him.

Ljufa cut her eye at the pair of new arrivals. "This isn't between us."

Una stepped to Ayko's side and shot daggers at the braided woman before them. She fixed her eyes on the Shadowhand's black tattoo. "It is when you act as one of us." An amused smile lifted the corners of her lips. "You played the part well, but none of my sisters bear the name Ljufa."

Ljufa's ice-blue eyes smoldered. "And I assume you won't just let me go?"

"Nay." Una folded her arms. "Shadowhands don't leave this village. Not alive, anyway."

"You should have looked the other way!" Ljufa growled.

She twirled her knife and lunged at the blonde-haired wench, only for Ayko to jump in front of her. The young man then locked blades with her, twisting his free and bunting the bridge of her nose with his sword's hilt.

Ljufa gasped and fell to the floor, with Una prying the dagger from her hand. The wench then flipped her over and bound her wrists in three knots.

Ljufa rolled onto her side, blood gushing from her nostrils, staining her teeth red as she spoke. "A new name and face isn't enough to get away from us, Liarra! You can't escape us, not in this life or the next!"