COBALT: The Red Phantom (Book One)

Chapter 4: The Unorthodox Entrance Examination (Part 3/3)

          The molve leapt for Káel's exposed back as he tried to flee, barely missing the tail end of his uniform. The next visible turnoff was too far away, Káel could feel the wind from the molve's front paws as it caught up to him. He was going to get caught.

          Then he realized his situation. It was a violent, life threatening, version of tag, and in tag, the chaser is always at the mercy of the chased. He took a sharp turn straight into the wall, the molve bounding past him and charging face first into another wall, before realizing its victim had escaped. The molve snarled at its prey that had cheated it of its victory, and shook the loose stones from its head; it was done toying with its target.

          Patting down his flattened pockets, Káel fished out his last dagger. He still had the stealthy sword fastened to his back, but after seeing the molves, he didn't feel like a long swinging weapon would do the trick. The molve leered at Káel, walking away from the cratered wall and taking him by surprise when instead of charging him, the beast made a sound that could count as a wolfish scoff, and walked away into another path. 

          Forced to follow his suspicious enemy, he quietly tailed it, peering around the corner.

          There it was, sitting at the other end of the circular clearing where Káel had first appeared, the heart of the maze. He walked out of the maze, standing fully exposed in terrain the molve had the upper hand in. It snorted with satisfaction at its enemy's compliance, barking in a taunting manner.

          Káel tried to think up a plan to defeat the malcontent molve. If he got it close enough, he could throw his dagger at its weak spot. The problem was the molve's knack for charging things, which would make aiming his weapon difficult, but still possible. 

          He stopped, giving the glinting dagger a good stare. He'd never actually thrown a dagger at something before, so why was he even considering that option?

          The boy was taking his sweet old time in fantasizing his futile victory, shaving precious seconds off his remaining eight minutes. The molve was tired of his cheap tricks that defeated its comrades. If this kid was going to beat it, it would be from a head on assault.

          The two plotted silently in their separate corners, analyzing and assessing. Looking at the small dagger in Káel's hand, the molve made its final decision, I'll make that boy unsheath his sword.

          Sucking in a heap of air, the molve parted its jaws and let loose a thunderous roar. Its orange energy spiked and flared in all directions, engulfing its stony mass like a gasoline drenched rock lit ablaze. The molve's intimidation tactic did its job, striking Káel with an overwash of surprise as his heart clenched together, and he became  hesitant to follow through with an attack.

          The orange energy streaked like fire behind the molve as it tore across the clearing. Káel threw the dagger without thinking twice about aiming, and it sliced through the air straight for its destined mark; at least it would have been if its target didn't have a head, and he'd thrown the dagger better than a blinfolded baby T-Rex. The molve gracefully caught the dagger between its jaws, looking at Káel with an odd grin as it crushed the blade into tiny fragments.

          The remnants of Káel's dagger crumbled to the ground like bread crumbs, taking with it his hopes in fighting the beast. Now was not the time for moping though. He furrowed his brow into a worried look and unsheathed his sword, of all the things to be doing with a broadsword, blocking giant stone paws was the last thing he would have imagined. The two fought, and despite all the blows he landed on the beast without receiving one himself, the molve was winning. His sword was a sword, it couldn't cut through stone, at best it could chink it.