Makun's eyes darted between them. His breathing steadied slightly, though his heart still hammered in his chest.
Who the hell are these people?
We finally meet? Like hell I wanted to meet you.
These people came out of nowhere speaking about "we finally meet." Makun was angry. He was being tracked by people he had no idea about.
The chains, he thought. Are they related to that?
"Who are you guys?"
He asked only to be ignored by Bol and Cheryl who were busy analyzing him.
"First grade Apprentice. What is happening?" Bol assessed.
Why was he already a first grade Apprentice? Did they get the wrong guy?
That was impossible. Mark had said he was Makun. So was the information they received false? Was he already a practitioner?
That could not be the case. The higher ups never made mistakes.
"Suppress him," Bol said, and sprang forward.
WHOOSH!
He shot across the parking lot, dagger in hand, his speed blinding. The faster they did this, the less risk they ran.
