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Book 2 Chapter 65 – Old Habits

  Chapter 65 – Old Habits

  Zajowle flitted through the camp making use of the shadows to hide him. The sun might be rising, but it hadn’t risen fully yet, and there were still plenty of shadows to hide in. Memories of his time as a child came flooding back as he found himself returning to old habits.

  He told himself he wouldn’t use these skills again. He avoided it for so long. Even began to believe that he could be something else, but time and time again he always found himself back here. Back to hiding, sneaking, and spying once again. But this time he was using the skills for his own purposes, not the greedy desires of someone that would throw his life away on a whim. It filled him with a mix of emotions, but he wouldn’t let that hold him back right now. There was too much at risk. Too much depending on this.

  He slipped by the spiders and the Wenduags that tried to grab him as he passed. Fighting them was a waste of time. He had to find the remaining elves. Time was not on their side and soon they would have to leave with or without them. Zajowle had a good idea what Clayton was doing with the elves based on what Zephyr had reported. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them to that, but where would Clayton place them?

  “He would want them close,” Zajowle muttered. “Close to his base of strength, but away from the main group. Different species navigate to areas of high or low as signs of power. But humans are not like dwarves or kobolds, so Clayton would likely have placed his base of power nearer to the top. Better to look down at his dominion.”

  With that in mind, Zajowle made his way up through the camp. The Shadow Shifting skill was an incredible tool. With it he was able to avoid most of the camp and quickly navigate around the maze of structures and webbing. If he had this skill back then... No. This was not the time to think about anything but the task at hand.

  “Only focus on the current task,” Zajowle whispered the words of his old mentor. “Leave everything else behind. One task, one thought. Nothing else matters”

  He arrived at the upper levels of the camp. Black and red flames were spreading below, but the top was mostly untouched aside from where several rocks had fallen in the area. Daniel and the others must have found this area to be out of their range for it to be this untouched still.

  Zajowle found a place to hide on top of a nearby hut. There were still Wenduags up at this level. That was telling. Why wouldn’t they join the fight down below. Many looked like they wanted to, but something was holding them in place.

  “A command?” Zajowle muttered. “Are they guarding something?” Zajowle took a minute to observe the Wenduags. They were better equipped than the ones he had passed on his way through the camp. Most of them had equipment he didn’t believe they had before. But how could they be getting so many weapons and armor and how was it also designed to fit them so well.

  That could only mean they had gotten their hands on a crafter, possibly a forge as well. Zajowle shook his head at that. Useful to know but didn’t help him right now. At most it might be something to try and destroy as they make their escape, but only if they came across it. First, they needed to survive the fight.

  As he watched, one of the Wenduags picked up a nearby rock and lobbed it into the jungle. It let out a frustrated roar, probably missed its target, but otherwise never moved more than a few feet from its position. None of them did.

  They had to be guarding something. There was no other reason Clayton would be holding them back like this otherwise. Picking his time to move, Zajowle made his way around the Wenduags. If they were guarding something, then he would find out what it was.

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  Zajowle came to a stop. Nestled in the back of the camp, up against a cliff wall, Zajowle found something that drew his attention. Most of the places he had seen thus far had been simple huts made from bamboo and leaves with little more thought put into them than was required.

  But here, Zajowle found a large building covered in leather and capable of holding a couple dozen people. Two Wenduags, each carrying a bamboo staff, stood guard over the entrance of the building. Preventing him from seeing inside it.

  This was possibly the place he was looking for, but how to be sure? It could just as likely be Clayton’s tent. He came across as someone that would put his own comfort first. Would he hold his prisoners in his own tent? Of course, if it was Clayton’s tent, then a different opportunity might be possible. He pulled out the poison Elaine had made him.

  Zajowle had provided the knowledge, and Elaine had provided the skill. It was a poison designed specifically for someone like Clayton. Back where he came from, this type of poison was known as Mage Bane, but here it went by a more common name. Darkness Aspect hemotoxin was after all, just a hemotoxin, but finding strong sources of Darkness Aspects was not common in these lands.

  Zajowle didn’t know if it would be enough to kill the man, but it might be enough to weaken him. More importantly, it would prevent him from being able to use some of his abilities as well. For a person like Clayton, crippling his Mana based abilities was more dangerous than any arrow or sword could be.

  But there was no way of telling if he would be in there alone. In a one-on-one fight, Zajowle didn’t believe he had a chance of winning. Add another into that equation and he was as good as dead. For the first time, he cursed his lack of ability in this area. If he had been a proper assassin, then taking on one person would be a simple matter. Even two would pose little issue. But if he had been a proper assassin, then he would never have had the chance to escape and never would have found himself in this situation in the first place.

  Zajowle shook his head to clear it. Caught thinking of the past once again. He had been doing that more often of late. The only thing that mattered was the present, and right now he needed to know for certain what he was getting into.

  “One task, one thought,” Zajowle muttered again. “Nothing else matters.”

  Shifting to the back of the building, Zajowle cut a small hole into the leather, just enough to let him see inside. It was dark inside, but that didn’t bother his eyes. He looked around the room, but even with his True Sight active he couldn’t see anyone.

  Taking the risk, Zajowle shifted. He reappeared in the middle of the room and immediately moved to hide. He waited a few seconds, but when nothing happened, he began to relax. He made his way around the hut, searching every room. Most rooms were empty, but anytime he came across anything, Zajowle took it into his Storage. There was no reason to leave Clayton anything, and no time to check what he was grabbing.

  In the fourth room he searched, he finally found what he was looking for. Inside sat the three elves. They were unconscious but still alive. They didn’t respond when Zajowle reached out to them nor when he slapped them.

  That was going to be an issue. They were going to carry them out. He could only take one with him, maybe two, but either way he wouldn’t be able to Shadow Shift while he was carrying them.

  “This is going to be difficult,” Zajowle muttered. “Going to need to get the others help with this.”

  He made his way back out of the building the way he came in. Shifting through the camp again as he began his search for the others. Jack and Elaine should be joining the assault team soon, so he could find them there. That search shouldn’t be too difficult though. He was sure to find them in the middle of all the fighting.

  He was moving through the camp when an ear-piercing scream cut through the chaos of the fighting. He quickened his pace, arriving near the source of the scream moments later. From his position he could see Victor and Savgar standing in front of Clayton with an army of Wenduags and spiders around him. Teresa was on the ground hands gripping her head and Zajowle thought he saw blood dripping down her face.

  Clayton was there, holding a vicious-looking blood-red whip in one hand as he spoke to the others. No one had noticed him arrive. That was good. Zajowle pulled out the poison and quickly applied it to his blades. He had to be careful. He would only get one chance at this.

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