World Fire

Inside the Jade Temple

‘Trapped!’ Sparrow let out a laugh, wild lines of joy stretching across her cheeks. Her eyes had a demented look to them, and the whites were more pronounced than ever. ‘Oh, it was so exhausting having to deal with you lot, but I’ve done it, ha ha!’

Arla also laughed, static electricity coating her body. ‘Do you really think that you have made a wide decision? You’ve “trapped” a Shiner, you know.’

Shards of rubble levitated around Sparrow, the sharp ends pointed towards Arla, spinning like drills. Locke gripped the hilt of his sword and thrust out a hand in front of Trys to shield her. His knees were bent, and his body ready. After losing Fahrla, he did not want to lose anyone else.

‘I care not for whether you are some Shiner. Such meaningless titles mean nothing to me. You are a dog of the Royal Army, demon of the Yara-ma-yha-who. I am an archaeologist; I know not to bite off more than I can chew. You may know of the erased years, but you also know of me.’ The rubble spun with increased intensity.

Arla positioned herself in a fighting stance, poised to attack. ‘I don’t know what a Yara-ma-yha-who is, or whether you think that I am a dog of the Royal Army, but I will let you know that I hold no compassion to those who try and trick people into their petty traps, especially when they don’t have the strength back it up.’

‘Oh, I think she does have the strength to back it up.’ A man strapped out from the plateau of the stairs and into vision. Crimson hair shot down to his neck, obscuring a pale white face. He wore a cloak as dark as shadows, with bones clutching to his shoulders and serving as shoulder plates. He stood tall, with a rigid back, and from his position atop the stairs, he gave the impression of someone with great confidence who held great power within himself.

‘Welcome to these noble halls of jade.’ He swept into a bow. ‘I am your host for tonight, Belvon Laire. I am a man of courtesy and manners. I allow you to witness the inside of these secret halls, and you spit on and insult one of my dearest allies. Sparrow, Kenner, see to them their end.’

‘Locke, Trys! Get out of here. Get far away!’ Arla shouted, but they didn’t move a muscle.

Sparrow thrust her hands forward. The stone spires burst through the air towards them.

Arla ducked to avoid them, looked up, and found one of the spires heading straight towards Locke. Her heart thumped as lightning bounced through her veins, enveloping her legs. She spun through the air and kicked the spire, screaming in pain as her leg crashed with the sharp edge in the effort to parry it.

Locke took a step back, alarmed by the sudden start, unsheathed his sword and rushed at Sparrow.

‘Locke! Don’t!’ Arla reached for Locke and gasped as a pair of hands grasped her tight around her upper arms.

‘Ha ha ha! How does it feel to be betrayed!’ Sparrow thrust down one of her hands, and a thick collection of rubble that had been levitating up against the roof since they had entered, but had not been noticed, fell down. At the same time, the shadow figure, Kenner, that had grabbed Arla rushed upwards through the air and rammed her head against the falling rubble.

Arla cried from the force of the impact, blood cascading down as she fell to the floor of the atrium. ‘Locke! Trys! You’ve got to run! It will mean nothing if you die here,’ she shouted, static doggedly sticking to her body.

Locke readied himself to swing at Sparrow once again, but Trys’ hand grabbed his own. ‘Locke, come on. We’ve gotta count our losses and run.’

He gritted his teeth, dropped his sword in the urgency, and ran by Trys’ side, jumping and dodging the rubble that fell from the roof. As they reached the entry to a hallway, he glanced behind him and found Arla standing again with grim persistence, jumping around the arena with the lightning coating her movements. Arla aimed a kick at Sparrow and sent her flying to the far wall.

‘What rude rabble,’ Belvon Laire said in his usually high voice. ‘We have people running away from my house without a word, and others who attack my guests. Sparrow, are you alright?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘Sparrow, Kenner, chase after those two rats. I will deal with the Red Elf myself.’

Arla, a layer of blood dropping down her head, turned to face Belvon Laire. Her breathing was laboured, and even though her body shook from the pain in her leg and head, she held strong, gritting her teeth in preparation for her next challenge.

But Locke saw no more, for he turned a corner, and in all the confusion, he found that he was not near Trys at all. But he did not dare call out for her name, because Sparrow, who controlled gravity in objects, and Kenner, who could hide in the shadows, were after them.