Magistaire Chronicles: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 20

Ayko ignored Ilta's fiery look, pain twisting the dead-eyed woman's face as he plastered more chewed wads onto her broken skin.

"This isn't any better for me, you know!" he argued, green spittle flying from his full cheeks.

The leaves' peppery taste scorched his tongue and brought tears to his eyes, but he chewed nonetheless. One after another, he covered Ilta's gash with globs until green juices oozed down her skin. Her wound dulled, and the blood crusted around its edges.

Ayko scrubbed his tongue with his sleeve and laughed triumphantly. "I'd say I more than outdid myself!"

Ilta rolled her eyes, making Ayko's smile fade. "What? No thanks for your knight in shining armor?" He asked.

Ilta simply stared back at him.

Ayko sighed and threw up his hands. "Still sweet as cream, this one!" He groaned, sitting across from her. "Can you at least tell me how you got that souvenir?" He asked, eyes darting to her drying wound.

Ilta laced her bathrobe back together. "Tck." She turned her head.

A frown yanked Ayko's lips toward his chin. What would Haze do? He thought. "It's just me and you here, you know." He scratched the back of his head. "We don't have to be friends, but we have to stand each other 'till the mist clears, at least." He let out an exasperated sigh when she said nothing. "For the love of–pretend I'm Elies, then!"

"If you must know, it's just a flesh wound," Ilta said, her voice even but overpowering Ayko's own. "A Shadowhand gave it to me as a parting gift before the mist came."

Ayko's eyes darkened. That word again. "A Shadowhand? Here?" He leaned forward. "What did this Shadowhand look like?"

"Like you," Ilta replied.

Ayko blinked at her. "Tall? Blonde?"

"Repugnant."

Ayko shot daggers at her, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she stared ahead with that same scowl she always wore. A slight hint of pity tinged his anger as he stared her in her face, though he couldn't say why.

"It was a Tuata," Ilta continued. "A Lizardman," she said when Ayko gave her a confused look. "One whose every angle leaked with smoke."

Ayko twisted his face. "Is that supposed to make sense?"

"I answered enough of your questions," Ilta said.

Ilta said nothing more to him as the day dragged to a close, which suited Ayko just fine. He twirled his sword through the air and cleaved through low-hanging Ovlo melons he ripped from their branches, only ceasing his mock swordplay to tend to Ilta's wounds again.

With each few hours that passed, Ayko stripped leaves from the Peppergrape trees until he'd reduced them to naked husks of branches and bark. Upon sticking the last chewed wad to the woman's near-ashen skin, her wound darkened and crusted over completely.

"Gonna thank me now?" Ayko asked. He yawned and rubbed his burning eyes.

"Sleep," Ilta said.

Ayko yawned again. "You didn't answer my question, and I don't take orders from you."

"Then stay up," Ilta said coolly.

Ayko cursed under his breath and backed away, taking shelter beneath the farthest tree from her. "Seriously, Elies," he huffed. "How are you head over heels for that?"

He rested his arms on his knees and traced through the snow with his sword, occasionally lifting his head to look at the raven-haired woman fifty feet away. Dark circles lay beneath her eyelids, but she didn't so much as yawn. Instead, she rested her head against her tree's trunk and shut her eyes.