Shadow's Arc

Chapter 6 of 8

Shadow and Emma had two axes between them. But Emma's second axe was old and cracked. The blade had a chip near the edge. Shadow ran his thumb along the flaw. "This won't hold against him," he said. "One hard block and it splits." Emma nodded. She had felt the crack too. They needed a real weapon before the stone hall, or they would face their father with a broken tool. Emma pointed through the trees. "There's a house that way. Ours, once." Shadow looked. He remembered now. His old home stood in the mist, half burned. The roof had caved. Black soot streaked the carved walls. Broken glass hung in the windows. "Father kept axes there," Emma said. "In the cellar. If the fire missed them, they're still good." They crossed the dead yard. The door swung loose on one hinge. Inside, the floor was ash and fallen beams. Shadow found the cellar hatch under a burned rug. He pried it open. Cold air rose. Down the steps, two axes hung on iron hooks, untouched by the fire. The steel was clean. The handles were solid oak. He lifted one. It felt right in his hands. "Both still sharp," Emma said behind him. She took the second. "Mother oiled these every spring." Then a voice came from above. "You always did find the old hiding places." Shadow spun. His father stood at the top of the cellar steps. Purple hair fell past his shoulders. A dark key hung on a chain at his chest. Green marks glowed faint along its shaft. Shadow's grip tightened. Three years of hunting, and here the man stood, calm, waiting. "You came for me," Felix said. "I hoped you'd bring the staff. Rage is so much easier to steer." He smiled. "But you brought axes. How dull." Shadow climbed the steps, weapon raised. His breath stayed slow. "You wanted me angry. I'm not." Felix's smile thinned. He lifted one gloved hand. Dark light gathered in his palm. "Then I'll make you." He flung the bolt down the stairs. Shadow swung the oak axe. The blade met the magic and split it. Sparks scattered across the ash. The old cracked axe would have shattered. This one held. Felix stepped back, surprised for the first time. "Emma, now," Shadow said. They rushed the steps together, two sharp axes swinging. Felix threw another bolt. Emma knocked it wide. He backed through the broken door and out into the yard. Felix gripped the key at his chest. Green fire wrapped his body. "The hall, then," he said. "Come and die there." The fire swallowed him. He was gone. Shadow stood in the doorway, chest heaving, axe steady. The weapons had held. They were armed now, and real. But his father had not fought. He had fled to his trap. "He's running to the stone hall," Shadow said. "That's where he's strongest." Emma wiped ash from her face. "Then we finish it there."