Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 7]

If Watts faced the same problem I did now, of not being able to find Grimm dangerous enough to grant any Exp, then it was true he might not have improved much. Then again, he'd been so far ahead of us before – and ahead of Blake, whose level back then had still been closer to forty. Though there was no way to tell, I'd put his level at something between sixty and seventy.

Quantity had a quality of its own, but could it really match up to so much quality? It was hard to tell. Watts was just too strong to deal with.

Wait…

"I think I might have a plan."

/-/

The heat beat down on us once more, and with trepidation for what was to come, my brow was covered with much more sweat than usual, made all the worse for the tan and beige robes wrapped around my body and head. They were probably much cooler to wear in the desert, but that came with the assumption you weren't wearing armour and padding beneath. Since we were going into combat, we were, which meant I got to swelter on the seat of the wagon, reins in hand as Blake sat beside me, red in face and shielding her eyes with one hand as she regarded the map in her lap.

The others had an easier time of it hidden in the back of the wagon we rode on, with a single beleaguered bison pulling it. It had cost us the remainder of our lien, since animals capable of pulling a wagon in the desert were more valuable than solid gold, but it was important that we look authentic, and that our group was small enough to make for a tempting target.

"Anything?" I whispered.

"They're close. Very close. The map is bright red – the blip practically on top of us. Either they're underground or hidden somewhere nearby, watching us."

Was it possible they were in a ruin or a shelter, like the one we'd stayed in before? I scanned the dunes around us, looking for any of the distinctive breathing tubes that might keep such a place aerated. There were none to be seen, but that didn't mean the entrance might not exist, somewhere over a dune or down in a dip.

All I could do was let the beast trundle on at a slow pace, nervously bringing a canteen to my lips to try and steady my nerves. With the white fabric pulled over the wagon behind, there was no way to tell what it contained. Everyone was remaining as still as possible inside, but the bison was struggling with all their weight. Would that give us away? Hopefully not.

I took a deep breath and let it go, and then repeated the action several times.

"It'll be fine," Blake whispered. Her hand touched mine. She smiled. "Believe in the plan you came up with."

"I do. It's just… what if we miss them? What if they go past us?"

"They won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because if they'd continued moving at their normal pace, they'd be beyond us already," she pointed out. "Yet the marker is still atop us. They're here. They're stalking us."

My heart beat a little faster. That wasn't nearly as comforting as I'd have liked it to be, but I nodded regardless, fighting past my suddenly dry throat. My hands gripped the reins tighter, and sensing my nervousness, the bison began to twitch and look around.

Suddenly, a lone figure seemed to appear from the sands ahead. Blake saw him instantly and tapped my side to draw my attention. Tall and thin, it had to be Roman. He might have just crossed the dune or risen from a dip in the landscape, but I refused to believe that. He had literally appeared out of nowhere. Neo's work, no doubt.

"Only one of them," I whispered.

"The others must be nearby under an illusion. This is fine. It'll only make the plan easier."

With a nod, I went back to leading the bison, though I pulled on the reins to make it stop as Roman approached. Much like Pyrrha thought, I could barely make out the words above his head. They blended in with the sand and with the sun high in the sky, they were faint and muddled. It was obvious he couldn't see ours either, otherwise he wouldn't have come so close. His face was much more recognisable, tanned and dirty, but still wearing that slimy smile.

"Hello there," he called. "Do you have a moment to help a traveller in need?"

He was desperate and alone in the desert, a dangerous thing for anyo- no. I bit my lip until it hurt, which helped me fight off the frustrating compulsion to believe him. I could see why no one else was able to.

"Are you alone, traveller?" Blake asked. She stood slowly, one hand disappearing into her robes. "It's dangerous to travel alone in the desert."

"My companions were attacked by Grimm. I'm all that remains."

"I see. Would you like some water?"

Roman grinned and came even closer. I could just start to make out his name and Class, and he, no doubt, our own. "I wouldn't say no."

Blake tossed a canteen in an underarm throw. It sailed lazily through the air and Roman tracked it, taking his eyes off our Classes for a brief moment. Whatever his motives, he would almost certainly be thirsty. As he reached out to catch it, he was caught off-guard for the flash of silver. His eyes widened, and he ducked to the side, though not before the thin throwing dagger slammed into his shoulder.

The wagon exploded into action. The tarp was thrown aside, revealing not a wooden construct, but seven Heroes who poured forth – even as Blake surged from the seat beside me toward the wounded Thief.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 7]