Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
The impact of steel clashing with titanium rang through the rod and up his forearm. The arrow spun away into the darkness, landing somewhere in the wet leaves.
Gage tapped the latch and collapsed the cane in controlled segments before he continued walking…listening.
Tree limbs swayed above him. Valor was moving, purposeful and strategic, like a big cat who didn’t need to rush. Zorion went in the opposite direction, never staying in one place long enough to be tracked.
The insect chorus changed, a shift so sudden it made the hairs on his forearms rise.
He slowed, ear almost to the ground.
A wolf howled long and melancholy in the distance a moment before Valor landed behind him.
He didn’t turn because he didn’t need to. Valor did as Gage expected and came at him with all his blunt, brutal force.
He raised his cane across his body and met him like a man answering the challenge. Valor’s forearm hit the cane and slid down it, testing for its weaknesses.
There were none.
Gage flipped his wrist, rolling the cane to absorb the force instead of trying to stop it.
Valor hooked his shoulder and tried to toss him, but he stepped inside and used his cane as a lever, turning his opponent’s momentum on himself.
“Not bad,” Valor said near his ear as he tried to take him off his feet.
Gage dropped his center, not fighting Valor’s strength—that was futile—and instead redirected it. He planted his cane, giving him a third point of balance, and let Valor’s strength pass through him before he answered it with a strike of his own, driving the butt end into Valor’s ribs where muscle met bone.
Valor grunted, as if surprised, and came at him again.
Gage kept his mind centered, heart steady, and pulse relaxed.
He’d trained until calm was natural.
His auditory hypersensitivity made it easy to track Valor’s intentions. Every shift in his footing, catch in his breath, and scrape of fabric, gave away his next move a fraction before it arrived.
Gage read every tale and answered it with one of his own.
Valor caught his cane mid-swing, flexed his fingers like claws, and swiped at Gage’s chest, tearing the outer layer of his clothes before vanishing back into the brush.
One moment, he was mid-spar, and the next, there was only empty space where an apex beast had been.
Gage stayed still.
The wind changed direction, lifting leaves and the scent of something new. —It wasn’t Valor or Zorion—It was the unmistakable hint of animal musk, and it grew stronger as it got closer.
Gage lowered the tip of his cane to the ground.
Something moved near his left boot. It had a tail with fur as smooth as velvet.
In this region, the most common nocturnal animals were raccoons, opossums, coyotes, skunks, deer, and foxes.
The delicate footwork, light then quick, starting and stopping, curious chittering instead of snarls, told him it was a fox.
Gage dropped to one knee.
Stayed that way until the animal decided what it thought of him. He didn’t reach out and invade. Instead, he let it be what it was…respect.
The fox whipped his tail at him, let out a cute bark, then darted away.
Gage smiled.
“Well done,” Valor said beside him.
Zorion’s quieter presence settled on his other side.
“You’ve learned to let the unknown come to you. That technique will keep you alive in the field.”
Valor put his big hand on his shoulder.
“Your vision impairment can make you small…or it can make you the fiercest one in this program. That choice is yours.”
Gage stayed in that submissive posture, allowing Valor’s intelligence to sink into his spirit.
“The blind tiger snake is one of the deadliest, predatory snakes in the world,” Valor said. “And what’s so fascinating about them is they’re not born blind. It’s their treacherous environment that does it to them over time.”
Gage rose smoothly, cane in his hand.
“When their sight fails, it doesn’t stop their hunting, only the way they hunt, because then they have to rely on the parts of their surroundings that never lie—vibrations, scents, sounds. And they hit their target every time they strike.”
“Am I ready now?” Gage asked.
“Only you can decide that,” Zorion said. “But stop trying to catch arrows like Meridian. You don’t need his tricks. You have your own.”
Gage’s mouth twitched. “Noted.”
“Come,” Valor said. “We’re done here.”
Back at headquarters, the moment he entered the building, his assistants were there, ready to fulfil any needs or instructions he gave.
He only had one question.
“Where’s Scar?”
White Ravens
Scar
The Ravens didn’t eat in a typical office-style cafeteria. There were no long Formica tables or harsh overhead fluorescents.
Scar sat in a private dining hall reserved for the Ravens, their handlers, and a select few of their staff allowed inside their orbit.
The room looked like a business-class airport lounge with its matte-black stone tables, recessed lighting, and muted walls.
They each had their own personal chef, who understood their appetites and dietary needs.