Page 8 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
“We do,” the reavers answered in unison. All eyes swung toSinder.
He smiled and said, “Blink.” And then he sprang away,knowing it would seem as if he’d vanished. Not because he wanted to impressthem. That had been a warning. The only one they’d get.
Their orders were simple. Scatter. Search. They had one hourto find him.
In preparation, Torloo had given them each two bandanas—onegreen, one red. Every rookie went in with the green one knotted around theirforehead and the red one in their pocket.
The next several minutes were more entertaining than mostSinder spent in the woods.
He wasn’t often deployed in this manner. It really wasn’tsporting. Wrapping up early, he returned to Torloo’s side.
“How many did you get?” He slipped his hand into Sinder’s.
“Not all,” he admitted. A few of the rookies had Kithcompanions. “Most, though.”
Torloo’s big blue eyes never wavered from his face. “Mostdislike you.”
Sinder fluted disconsolately. “Can you blame them?”
“I might.” The young wolf’s hand tightened. “You are here tohelpthem.”
“I’ve just humiliated them.” He gently extracted his hand,for the battlers were approaching, reporting back. “Let me goad them on. You betheir ally.”
As the battlers regrouped, Torloo split their ranks. Onlyfive retained their green bandanas. Confusion and consternation radiated fromthe rest.
“Is this some kind of trick?” asked one.
“It was a massacre,” said Torloo. “Everyone wearing red waseither compromised or killed.”
“I never saw him!” protested one, then another.
“You do notrememberseeing him,” said Torloo. “Noneof them ever do.”
A hand lifted. “How did he switch them out?”
“He did not,” said Torloo. “You did it yourself.”
“No way.”
Others shook their heads, muttered protests. But the proofwas all around them.
“Tell us how it was done,” urged one of the battlers whosegreen bandana was like a badge of honor. Sinder had noticed him a time or two.Best of the bunch, and not simply because of his feline companion. The patch athis shoulder readMichaelson.
Torloo smiled at him, and his tail lifted. Like he knew theguy. “Your prey is a dragon, and dragons have a way with words. When he toldyou to switch colors, you thought it was a good idea. When he told you toforget you had met him alone in the woods, you did as you were told.”
“And it works on anyone?” asked Michaelson.
“Amaranthine and humans,” said Torloo. “But not Kith, whichis why partnership is an asset.”
“Can we protect ourselves?”
“Yes.” With that, Torloo spun off into an orderlyexplanation of the next phase of their training. Michaelson’s questionsencouraged others to speak up or interject. And if Sinder didn’t miss hisguess, that was the guy’s intent. Because he got the impression that ReaverMichaelson already knew the answers.
He’d bear watching, that one.
Now that they had guidance, the rookies improved.Torloo introduced them to the survival tactics they’d need for the chase they’dbe joining. Like working in twos and threes, so every reaver had eyes on theirback. And learning tracker lingo, a verbal code that allowed them tocommunicate without tipping off eavesdroppers.
Those with Kith partners had the best survival rate, whichhammered through the obvious. And put their futures into new perspective. Tosucceed, they needed to form alliances. Torloo brought in a group ofDimityblest scribes to guide the battlers through the application process for aKith partner. Those who excelled over the summer could find themselves in apairing program this autumn.
