Sepia Blue- Nameless: A Sepia Blue Novel- Book 4 by Orlando Sanchez (best self help books to read .txt) 📗

drawing two warded curved blades, his preferred fighting weapons: karambits. “This isn’t a Dreadwolf.”

“I just said that,” Pira said, sliding into a defensive stance. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know what could track us and be this silent about it.”

“You’re right,” Pira said as she scanned the night. “I don’t like it.”

“So predictable,” a voice said in the night. “I knew you’d want to avoid the Dreadwolves. Any sane person would. Then again, any sane person would also avoid the Park at night. With the obvious path blocked, that only left one route. This one.”

“Who are you?” Pira asked. “What do you want?”

The figure materialized in the clearing near them. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, about twice the size of a normal human and covered in lean muscle. Its large eyes were perfectly adapted for night vision, and in each of its four massive hands was a short sword.

“Shit,” Destin said under his breath. “No wonder I couldn’t read it—a Chamai.”

Chamai were some of the rarely seen Unholy. They opted for remaining hidden in the shadows until the last possible moment before striking a lethal blow. They were fast, intelligent and deadly. In addition to being fearsome fighters, they possessed the ability of nearly perfect camouflage. Chamai were known for disappearing in plain sight.

Encountering one at night in the Park was a death sentence.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” the Chamai said. “You enter my home uninvited and then expect me to answer your questions. The impudence is staggering. Who are you and what do you want?”

Pira sheathed her blades.

“What are you doing?” Destin hissed. “Did you happen to notice the four arms holding four weapons?”

“We are just passing through,” Pira said, slowly raising her hands in surrender. “We mean no offense.”

“No offense?” the Chamai said with a short laugh. “Your mere presence here is an offense. To add insult to injury, now you lie to my face. No human simply passes through our domain, unless they are seeking death. Is this what you seek—death?”

“We seek safe passage—” Pira began.

“You will find none tonight,” the Chamai said, cutting her off. “This night only offers death.”

The Chamai slowly faded from view.

“Wonderful,” Destin said as he moved behind Pira, holding his blades out. “Were you trying to negotiate with it?”

“Are you insane?” Pira answered under her breath as she drew her blades. “You can’t negotiate with Chamai. I needed to know how many there were. With one, we have a chance. Two or more, we need Strategy R.”

“Is that the one where we run as fast as possible in the opposite direction?”

“That’s the one,” Pira said with a nod. “Except we have an issue.”

“The Dreadwolves are flanking us,” Destin answered. “Cutting us off.”

“Which only leaves the Hunter’s Keep or straight up.”

“I haven’t mastered flying yet,” Destin said. “Have you?”

“Not one of my skills, no.”

“We go for the Keep, then,” Destin said. “At least it seems to be close.”

“This is the Park,” Pira said. “Distances are not true in here.”

“Plenty of things aren’t true in here,” Destin added. “Remind me again why we’re in here at night?”

“I figured you could use the challenge,” Pira said as they turned. “You have been getting a little lax with your training these days.”

“Lax?” Destin asked with a chuckle. “I don’t recall ever requesting your input on my rigorous training regimen.”

“Chamai can only camouflage their bodies for short periods of time,” Pira said. “It’s like holding their breath for them. We just have to wait it out.”

“That sounds fun,” Destin said. “You forgot the part where we don’t die in the meantime.”

“And not die in the meantime,” Pira said as a sword sliced through the night in her direction. “Move.”

She parried the strike with her blade, making sure to stay close to Des as they rotated. They both ducked under another slash as Destin sliced across the Chamai’s legs.

A roar of rage filled the night as it disappeared again.

“I think it’s pissed,” Destin said with another chuckle. “Maybe it will change its mind?”

“Focus,” Pira said. “It’s wounded, not dead, which means—”

“It’s dangerous.”

More roars filled the night.

“Shit,” Pira said. “This just went from bad to—”

“Clusterfuck,” Destin said. “I think we need Strategy R right about now.”

Another blade cut through the night aimed at Destin. He shoved Pira out of the way and rotated around the attack, jumping into the night. He landed on the Chamai with a grunt.

“What are you doing?” Pira yelled. “There are more of them!”

“Buying us some time,” Destin said. “Stop looking at me and run. I’ll catch up!”

“You better, you maniac.”

Destin laughed again.

“Now would be a good time,” he yelled. “Get going!”

Pira turned, orienting herself toward the Hunter’s Keep, and ran.

SEVENTEEN

The roars increased in volume as she ran.

The Hunter’s Keep appeared close, but Pira knew the truth. Distance was a flexible concept in the Park. Even though the Keep appeared close, it remained the same distance from her as she pumped her legs harder.

Explosions rocked the Park behind her as Destin caught up.

“That should give him something to think about for a little while,” Destin said as he ran. “I’m pretty sure there are about three of them, maybe more.”

“How did you—nevermind. Keep running.”

“Maybe you need to quit that desk job,” Destin said. “I caught up to you pretty fast. Are you slowing down? I’m guessing Assistant Directors don’t need to run anywhere.”

“We don’t,” Pira said, picking up the pace. “We usually stand still and eradicate any incoming threat.”

“Oh, so you were waiting for me?”

“I was giving you time to catch up, knowing how your old knees get when any activity beyond a brisk walk is required,” Pira said. “Are you warmed up?”

“You mean besides nearly exploding myself with the Chamai back there?”

“Obviously, yes.”

“I’m ready,” Destin said. “If you think you can handle it.”

Pira nodded, touching her combat armor and activating the dormant wards. They blazed to life in an array of reds and oranges as she picked up the pace further.

“Keep up,”