From the mouth of the cave, a figure slowly emerged—lean, quiet, calculating. A boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, blonde hair swayed with the light breeze.
His eyes were mismatched—one silver, one black—and he held a short crescent blade in one hand.
"You're good," the boy said smoothly, stepping over a rune with precision. "But not perfect."
Kai didn't move. "Who are you?"
"I could ask you the same," the stranger said, then looked around. "Not many tamers I've seen using assassin-style traps. You hiding something?"
"No," Kai said flatly. "Just don't like being watched."
"Too bad."
Then the boy moved.
Fast.
Kai barely shifted to the side as a throwing knife whizzed past him, embedding itself where his head had been.
Vael shrieked—a sonic burst—but the boy rolled, throwing up a shimmering light barrier mid-air and bouncing the wave off its surface.
He landed on his feet, sliding slightly, then lunged.
Kai's dagger flicked into his hand, parrying the blade swipe.
Cling!
