Page 45 of Shifter King
Phobos gave AaQar another analyzing once-over. "As long as we're clear. Lots of folks get in trouble out here. My cadre does what it can, but we have to have limits or else we'd be swallowed up. Believe me, if there was a way to save everyone that's in the processing unit we would. But we're gonna be lucky to get both out." He sighed, a tight brokenness in the sound.
It was not easy to have to fight to save your cadre. To know that you might not be able to save everyone. He'd shared that responsibility with AaQar over the years, and it had worn both of them swiftly.
They continued on through the grasslands. The clicking and barriers with the first stage of scent absorption prevented further attacks by the time they reached it, and it seemed that the sand pit served as a further deterrent.
That was almost assuredly another sign of crocs. They could launch themselves out nearly sixty feet in a forward lunge and make it fairly far before having to return to their sandy home, often while gulping down the hapless prey.
With each step, the city grew clearer, the iridescent sheen becoming harder to see. But there was a small stone arena that was coming into view.
Phobos motioned for them to follow his lead as he crouched and then crept through the brush and branches.
Soon though they reached an open stretch where there was nothing but grass and open air. The arena had been built directly into the hill, and Phobos guided them to a rockier section with more coverage. He then gestured toward it. "This is why we can't get them out. They're in the middle of the practice now."
Naatos peered down into the arena. His gut clenched, and rage heated his blood. This was a joke.
ILLUSIONISTS
Amelia walked along the corridors of her mind. She'd gone deeper to assess her progress. Building up barriers, boundaries, and shields was both simpler and more challenging than she'd expected. It seemed as if everything was stronger though it was hard to judge. Improving her actual basic telepathy appeared only possible through actual practice. At first she'd hoped that she could find a way to improve her skills from within. That had not worked as anticipated. Going within had revealed one thing though.
Something was wrong.
It unsettled her to her core, and the longer she remained in her mind, the more obvious it became even though she could not actually see what it was.
The columns and pillars that represented her skills did not appear to have changed, but the air had an uncomfortable tang and coolness to it. As if someone else was present.
"Ki," she called out. Even as she said its name, she knew that the Ki Valo Nakar wasn't actually the problem. Not this time.
No answer returned. Perhaps it was resting.
She passed the massive column with the ivy growing over it, the one the mind shade had almost eaten through. Chunks of stone remained missing, teeth and claw marks apparent. But sections had filled in, the solid creamy-white stone somehow regrowing.
Still…an idea occurred to her as she remembered how Naatos had handled it when he was with her. "Mind," she said softly. "Can you show me where the problem is?"
A hesitation followed. Then everything darkened. Some force tugged at her, and she found herself standing in a dark corridor with her back to a wall.
Something about it was familiar. It stretched on and on before her, the walls painted dark grey and a long black rug fixed to the center of the floor. It was so long she could not see its end. Along the wall were black doors—no. She stopped, a chill passing over her.
There weren't doors there at all.
It was just doorways.
She'd been here before.
Why weren't there any doors? Rasha had said she wasn't good at closing doors. But…there weren't any doors to close.
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but her mouth went dry. Something elsewashere, and it was watching.
* * *
This had to be a joke.Naatos set his jaw, his muscles tight. How was this even possible?
AaQar raised an eyebrow as he looked back at the youth. "This is all you're up against, Phobos?"
Phobos leaned against the brown-mottled boulder and nodded. "Yeah, I know it's bad." He scrubbed his hand briefly over his face and plucked a blade of glass. Twirling it into a tube, he shook his head. "It's Enver today. He's brutal. And he's got four of his special attendants with him. Then it looks like that's Umit for backup, not that Enver ever needs anyone."
"So there are six Abliatos," Naatos said slowly. "They have weapons then. Technology." That had to be the explanation.
There were thirty-four Vawtrians down in that arena. Mostly youths. Scrawny by all appearances. But that shouldn't have meant much of anything. At least it didn't used to. Now the appearance of physical weakness apparently meant its truth.
