“Must have,” Ronon admitted. “I’ll do better next time.”
“What makes you so sure there will be a next time?” There was no humor in Nekai’s tone, and Ronon felt a chill run down — or up — him.
“What’re you saying? That I failed?”
“I don’t know,” the other man admitted quietly. “I really am surprised by you. I thought you’d do better than thi — ”
The rest of Nekai’s words were cut short as his foot came down among a clump of wet leaves — and they shifted beneath him. Ronon had managed to twist and sway enough that he could see his mentor off to the side of his vision, so he had at least a quick glimpse of the shock on the other man’s face as Nekai realized what was happening. Then Ronon’s snare had closed around his ankle, the counterweight had fallen, and the Retemite was being hoisted into the air. The sudden force of the ascent knocked the stun gun from his hand, and it fell to the leaves below as Nekai hung there, swinging from the built-up momentum of his rapid rise.
“How?” he sputtered as Ronon bent his left leg, pulling himself higher. Then he bent and reached up with both hands, grasping the vine just above the loop. The added pressure above the knot forced it to loosen and he pulled his foot free, then swung both legs down and dropped easily to the ground. His own pistol was securely in its holster, and he drew it now, covering Nekai even as he crouched and collected the fallen Wraith stun gun.
“I spotted the snare without a problem,” Ronon admitted, straightening and taking a few steps away from his strung-up mentor. No sense getting within range of the man’s knives. “So I rigged one of my own just a few steps away from it.” He shrugged, trying not to grin. “Then I stepped into yours and waited for you to hear the commotion and come running.” The grin slipped free anyway. “Which you did.”
“You couldn’t know which direction I’d come from,” Nekai insisted.
“No, but I knew you’d circle around until you were behind me,” Ronon pointed out. “So I positioned the snare where I wanted it, then adjusted my own orientation until it was directly at my back.” His grin widened. “The rest was easy.”
Nekai studied him for a second — then laughed. “Nicely done,” he admitted. “You used my own planning against me, and I fell for it. I am impressed.”
“Then I passed?” Ronon asked, lowering his pistol slightly but still not moving too close. “Can I cut you down, or are you going to try for me anyway?”
“You definitely pass,” his mentor assured him. “The test is over.” Ronon holstered his pistol and drew a knife, slicing through the vine with a single quick overhand slash. Nekai fell to the ground, twisting and curling into a ball to lessen the impact. He was on his feet a moment later, and Ronon handed him back the stun gun without a word.
“You’ve learned well, Ronon,” Nekai told him once he was armed again, and had removed the snare’s loop from his ankle. “There’s only one thing left now, one final step.”
“You said I passed,” Ronon reminded him, his grin fading a little bit. How many more tests would he have to endure?
“This isn’t a test,” Nekai answered. “More like a proving ground. It’s time.”
“Time for what?” But deep down, Ronon already knew the answer, and his mentor echoed it a second later, a predatory grin crossing his face.
“Time to hunt a Wraith.”
Chapter Eight
Snap! Ronon tensed, then forced himself to relax. He uncurled his fingers from around the butt of his pistol, unclenched his stomach muscles and his jaw, lay flat again, and forced himself to breathe slowly. Patience. He had to have patience.
Where were the damned Wraith? Why weren’t they here yet?
It had been over three hours since he and Nekai had separated. Nekai had suggested they wait another day, until they had both eaten and slept and Ronon had recovered from the stress and tension and effort of their recent mutual hunt. But Ronon had refused.
“Now,” he’d insisted. “I want to do this now.”
Nekai had decided not to argue. Probably he had seen the determination — what Melena had often called the “stonewall stubborn” on his face. Or maybe he had just accepted that it would be better to get this out of the way once and for all.
Besides, resting hadn’t really been an option. During the hunt there’d been the risk that the Wraith might detect their signals and come looking for either or both of them. Disguising the tracking devices now would only intrigue any Wraith already in the area. They’d either have to flee to another planet immediately — or let the Wraith come, and deal with them once they arrived.
Ronon was all for the latter. He’d been itching to kill Wraith since they’d first attacked his homeworld, and that itch had grown into an all-consuming rage once they’d killed Melena and the rest of Sateda and taken him captive. He’d suppressed the desire while training only by constantly reminding himself that what Nekai was teaching him would make him better able to kill Wraith and in much greater quantities.
Well, now it was time to put that to the test.
So Nekai had headed back toward a cave he’d selected for just such a purpose — the minerals in the walls would make him more difficult to pinpoint, he claimed. And Ronon had selected a likely spot, set a few snares and other traps, and settled in to wait.
And here he was. Waiting.
He hated waiting.
What if there hadn’t been any Wraith in the area already, he wondered for the hundredth time. What if none of them were within range to detect his tracking device? What if he was laying in wait for an enemy that would never show? How long could he wait? A day? Two? Eventually he’d need to move, if only to find food and water. Otherwise when a Wraith did show he’d be too weak to deal with it.
Snap!
Ronon went completely still. His ears strained, trying to pinpoint the location and source of that sound. It had been nearby, certainly, but not right beside — definitely within visual range if he dared to turn his head and look, which he did not. There were dry leaves and small twigs littering the ground here, which was one of the reasons he had chosen this spot. It was all but impossible for anyone to sneak up on him here.
Snap! Crunch! Crack!
Too many sounds, too close together, Ronon decided. More than one pair of feet tromping through the forest on this fine cool day. If they were Wraith there would probably be three of them, two soldiers and one commander, just as there had been before. The last time, Ronon had needed Nekai’s help to finish them off. Not this time.
At least, he hoped not. He had hunted animals without a problem, and had even gotten the drop on Nekai himself this morning. But that had been one man. This was three Wraith. He had never hunted multiple targets before, and suddenly Ronon found himself cursing Nekai’s oversight. Why hadn’t they gone after small packs and prides and other groupings, to get experience for exactly this sort of situation?
True, he had a plan. He thought it would work. But there was no way to be sure. Not until it happened. And if the plan failed? Well, that would be very, very bad.
Ronon waited, unmoving, and listened for more noises. They came soon enough, and confirmed what he had already guessed: three of them, all moving in this direction, all walking together. One of them was a little better at stealth than the other two, who didn’t care what they stomped on or how much noise they made.
Wraith.
Ronon grinned. Let them come, he thought. His hand tightened on the pistol but he still didn’t draw it. Not yet.
He had learned to be patient. At least patient enough to make sure his prey was exactly where he wanted them before he struck.