Impasse, a drabble of Luke and Mystral

After Old School, after …Ninja…

::Luca!!::

Myst’s call ripped across Luke’s brain. He dropped everything. Everything, in this case, involved the …ninja… in his hands, and one of his swords.

He took to the air while still searching for Myst’s mind. Where, where…. he searched for heat signatures and found her very unique one. There… and her mind was unconscious. And someone was picking her up.

Luke swallowed the roar of anger only with centuries of discipline. Whoever they were, they weren’t expecting an air attack, even now. He swooped, grabbing both Myst and her attacker in one dive.

Only to find her attacker holding a wooden sword and aiming it at Luke’s throat.

He landed with a thump in Icarus’ tree fort. “Just back up nice and slowly. I’ll take the girl. You take the sword.”

He hadn’t Worked without words in a while, but he thought his Jasfe Tlacatl as strongly as he could at Mystral.

The ninja squinted at him, still pointing the sword at his throat. “Not till I get what I’m here for.”

Luke breathed as levelly as he could. He knew what a hawthorn wound to the windpipe could do. “What are you here for?”

The bastard laughed. “That would be telling.”

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