Rikk woke early, nervous energy making sleep impossible anyway. Today he'd hunt with real professionals. Today he'd prove the shadow-cat kill wasn't luck.

  The hunting party assembled at the village edge as blue fungi-light faded into actual morning. Vrek arrived first, his half-missing ear and scarred face looking even more intimidating in the pale light. He carried minimal gear: spear, knife, water skin, small pack of dried meat. Nothing unnecessary. Everything purposeful.

  Grish came next, moving with the quiet efficiency of someone who'd survived too many hunts to waste motion. Younger than Vrek but equally professional. His weapons were well-maintained, his pack organized. He nodded to Rikk without comment, already focused on the hunt ahead.

  Zikka appeared from the shadows like she'd been part of them. Female hunter with throat-scar that roughened her voice. She carried a bow in addition to her spear, quiver secured carefully to avoid rattling. Her eyes swept over Rikk in quick assessment, then dismissed him. Not hostile. Just categorizing: useful or liability.

  Nix was last, his face marked by three parallel bear-scars that made his warning from yesterday more credible. He checked everyone's gear with professional thoroughness, adjusting Rikk's pack straps without asking permission. Making sure the young scout wouldn't slow them down through poor preparation.

  "We move fast," Vrek said quietly, addressing the group. "Cover ground before sun is high. Bear is smart, stay away from large groups during day. We find den, we wait, we kill when emerge. Questions?"

  Nobody spoke.

  "Good. Rikk, you track. We follow. You see anything strange, you say immediately. Not wait. Not think about. Say. Understand?"

  "Understand," Rikk managed, throat tight with nerves.

  They left Mucksnout Hollow as the village was waking. A few early foragers watched them go, making small warding gestures. Hunting swamp-bear was dangerous enough that casual blessings felt appropriate.

  Jake experienced everything through Rikk's heightened awareness. The young gremlin's senses were sharp with adrenaline, taking in details with unusual clarity. The way Vrek moved through terrain, choosing paths that avoided noise and maximized cover. How Grish checked their backtrail periodically, making sure nothing followed. The way Zikka and Nix maintained formation, never bunching up, always ready to scatter if ambushed.

  These were professionals. Jake could see it in every action, every decision. They'd survived hunts that killed others. Had learned through experience what worked and what got you dead.

  This is different from Rikk's solo scouting, Jake observed. This is coordinated. Disciplined. These gremlins know what they're doing.

  The trail started at a forage site where the bear had killed two gatherers the week before. The evidence was still visible: drag marks, dried blood, broken vegetation where the attack had happened. The team examined it professionally, reading the story without emotion.

  "Bear wait in ambush," Grish noted, pointing to disturbed foliage. "Let forager get close, then strike. Is smart. Not just hungry. Actually hunting gremlins."

  "Makes it more dangerous," Vrek agreed. "Smart bear is problem bear. Can't predict easy."

  They picked up the trail from there. Massive prints in soft mud, deeper than any gremlin footprint. Claw marks on trees where the bear had marked territory. Scat containing bone fragments from recent kills.

  Rikk found himself falling into tracking mode naturally, his mother's training flowing through him with new confidence.

  "Bear pass here maybe two days ago," Rikk said, examining broken branches. "Moving northeast. Not hurry. Comfortable in territory. See how break branch? High up. Bear stand on back legs, reach high, mark strong. Show dominance."

  Grish moved closer to verify, studying the same signs. His expression shifted from neutral to impressed. "You right. Read this perfect. How you see is comfortable? Most miss that."

  "Branch break is clean, not frantic. Bear take time, choose which tree to mark. If scare or hurry, would not care about show dominance. Just move fast." Rikk spoke with growing confidence, the skill flowing through him naturally.

  Jake watched the neural pathways lighting up as Rikk tracked. Could see how the ability worked, how experience and instinct combined to process environmental clues. It was beautiful in a mechanical way, like watching a complex machine operate smoothly. And as Jake observed, he found himself understanding the patterns. Learning them. Making them part of his own consciousness.

  I'm becoming a tracker, Jake realized. Not through practice. Through observation. Learning by watching the neural structures fire in specific sequences.

  It was different from just absorbing an ability wholesale like he had with echolocation or toxic immunity. This was active learning, facilitated by their shared consciousness. Jake wasn't just taking Rikk's skill. He was understanding it. Could probably use it himself in a future host, this knowledge learned from watching Rikk's neural pathways at work.

  That's new, Jake thought with fascination. I'm not just a parasite. I'm a student. Learning from the inside.

  The hunting party moved deeper into the Blackfen, following signs that got progressively fresher. The bear's trail was easy to follow for someone with skill. Too easy, really. Like the creature wasn't trying to hide.

  "Bear is confident," Nix observed, his scarred face grim. "No attempt to mask trail. Means is comfortable. Means think nothing can threaten it."

  "Or is bait," Zikka added quietly. "Smart bear might leave obvious trail. Lead hunters into ambush."

  They proceeded more cautiously after that, checking not just the trail ahead but surroundings for potential threats. The professionals worked together seamlessly, covering angles, watching each other's backs, maintaining awareness of the whole environment.

  Hours passed. The sun climbed toward noon, burning off morning mist and replacing it with humid heat. They'd covered significant ground, moving through terrain that shifted from mangrove roots to open marsh to dense undergrowth and back again.

  The bear's trail remained consistent. Northeast. No attempt to circle back or lay false trails. Just direct movement through its territory.

  Then the canopy thickened ahead. Dense overgrowth created near-darkness despite the midday sun. Visibility dropped to maybe ten feet. The hunting party slowed, tension rising.

  Rikk felt his mouth open instinctively. The clicking sound emerged before he realized he was making it. Sharp, purposeful, unlike anything he'd done before.

  The world exploded into sound-picture clarity.

  Three-dimensional awareness painted in echoes. Tree trunks resolving in precise detail. Roots extending in specific directions. Water channels branching through the darkness. Small animals frozen in undergrowth, detected by their shapes rather than sight.

  Rikk stopped walking, overwhelmed by the sudden sensory input. Everything was there. Everything was clear. He could "see" the environment in ways normal vision never achieved.

  "What sound you make?" Vrek asked sharply, hand going to his spear.

  "I... not know. Just happen." Rikk clicked again, deliberately this time. The echoes returned, painting another perfect picture. "Can see? But not see with eyes. Hear shape of things. Feel space."

  He pointed into the darkness ahead. "Dead log there, fifteen feet. Hollow. Big enough for swamp cat. And roots crossing above, low enough to hit head if not careful. And..." He clicked again, processing. "Water channel on right. Two feet deep. Moving slow. Fresh water, not stagnant."

  Grish moved forward carefully to verify. Found everything exactly as described. Returned with expression somewhere between awe and concern.

  "You see all that? In dark? With sound?"

  "Yes. Click, hear back, understand space. Is like..." Rikk struggled for words. "Like world draw itself in head. Not picture but knowledge. Know where things are."

  The hunters exchanged glances. This was beyond enhanced tracking. This was something else entirely.

  "Spirit-blessing give new sense," Zikka said quietly. "Is powerful. Very powerful."

  They continued through the dense section with Rikk clicking periodically, guiding them around obstacles invisible in the darkness. The professionals followed his directions without question, trusting the ability they'd just witnessed.

  Jake experienced it all through Rikk's perception. The echolocation was fully integrated now, as instinctive as breathing. The symbiosis was working exactly as it had with previous hosts. Rikk was becoming something unprecedented. A gremlin with bat-sense.

  For a month, Jake reminded himself. Then it all ends.

  They emerged from dense canopy into an area where light filtered through more readily. The trail continued, fresher now. Recent. Maybe hours old instead of days.

  Rikk walked through a patch of shadow beneath a large root overhang. And disappeared.

  Not completely. Not like turning invisible. But suddenly the hunters couldn't quite track him. Eyes sliding off his position. Visual attention refusing to focus properly.

  "Where is?" Vrek spun, searching. "Where Rikk go?"

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "Here!" Rikk stepped forward into better light. Suddenly visible again. Confused by their reaction. "I right here. Not move."

  "You WERE there," Nix insisted, pointing. "Then not there. Then there again. Where you go?"

  "Not go anywhere. Stand in shadow whole time. You not see me?"

  Zikka made a warding gesture, ancient protection symbol. "You blend. With shadow. Like shadow-cat do. Like..." Her rough voice trailed off. "Like legend say blessed-ones can. But never see myself until now."

  Rikk looked down at his own body, confused. He didn't feel different. Hadn't consciously done anything. Just stood in shadow like normal.

  Jake understood immediately. Shadowed Step was manifesting. The ability from the panther, integrated into Rikk's biology, activating instinctively when conditions were right. It wasn't true invisibility. More like camouflage. Visual disruption that made observers unable to properly focus on the user.

  Another gift, Jake thought. Making you more capable. More legendary. Right before killing you.

  The professionals were rattled. Enhanced tracking was one thing. Seeing through sound was impressive. But blending with shadows like an apex predator? That crossed into genuinely supernatural territory.

  "Is powerful blessing," Vrek said carefully. "Very powerful. Spirits favor you strong, Rikk."

  They continued with new wariness. Not of the bear anymore. Of Rikk. Or more accurately, of what Rikk was becoming. Power without context. Abilities without explanation. A young gremlin turning into something else right in front of them.

  The afternoon wore on. The bear's trail grew fresher. Minutes old now. Very recent. The team's tension ratcheted higher with every sign.

  Then Rikk clicked and froze.

  "Wait." He processed the returns, confusion mixing with alarm. "Something ahead. Large shapes. Moving. Six... no, SEVEN. Not bear. Wrong size. Wrong movement pattern."

  Jake felt Rikk's confusion through their connection. The shapes were huge. Man-sized but bulkier. Moving in coordinated formation. Weapons visible in echo-picture. Armor glinting.

  What the fuck are those? Jake's consciousness recoiled. Nothing in his absorbed memories matched this. Too big for gremlins. Wrong shape for bears. Unknown.

  "What you see?" Vrek's voice was tight.

  "Not see. HEAR. Seven large shapes. Moving together. Organized. Have weapons, maybe armor. Very big. Much bigger than gremlin."

  The word dropped into the hunting party like a stone.

  "Orcs," Grish whispered.

  The reaction was instantaneous. Every hunter dropping low, pressing into undergrowth, covering themselves with mud and debris. Total silence. Absolute stillness.

  Terror flooded through Rikk's system so hard Jake thought the young gremlin might pass out. Not normal fear. Primal, cultural, generational terror. Every cell in Rikk's body screaming to hide, freeze, become invisible.

  Memories surfaced unbidden. Jake experienced them through their connection:

  Mother's stories, told on cold nights. Warnings disguised as tales. "Orcs are green death, little one. See orc, you hide. No fight. No run. Just hide and pray they not find you."

  Tikk's cousin, Old Grenn. Found tied to tree near orc camp. Used for arrow practice. They'd kept him alive for hours. Let him scream. Laughed at the sounds. Gremlins recovered the body after orcs moved on. Grenn's face frozen in final agony. They'd burned the body rather than try to explain to his children what had been done.

  Slaves in orc forges. Gremlins taken during raids. Worked until dead. Sometimes days. Sometimes weeks. Never freed. Stories said the lucky ones died fast from heat or injury. The unlucky ones lasted months. Came back as husks if they escaped. Broken things that couldn't speak, couldn't function, just existed until mercy or infection ended them.

  Hunt-games. Orcs would raid, take gremlins alive, give them head start into swamp. Then track them. Slowly. Make it last. The screaming would go on for hours. Could hear it from the village. Knew someone was being hunted, tortured, killed for entertainment. Knew you couldn't help. Could only hide and hope you weren't next.

  No mercy. No compassion. Just cruelty for its own sake. Gremlins were prey to orcs. Not enemies. Not even food. Just toys. Things to break.

  The memories weren't unique to Rikk. This was cultural knowledge. Generational trauma encoded in every gremlin's mind. Stay away from big green people. Survival rule number one. Breaking it meant death. Terrible death. Prolonged death.

  Jake felt it all through their shared consciousness. The absolute terror. The helplessness. The knowledge that encountering orcs meant you were already dead unless you were very lucky and very still.

  The orc patrol came into view through the trees.

  They were massive. Seven to eight feet tall. Green skin in varying shades from dark forest to light olive. Heavily muscled in ways that made even Grix look small. They wore leather and metal armor, carried weapons that dwarfed gremlin tools. Axes. Heavy spears. Bows with arrows that could punch through trees.

  They moved with casual confidence. Talking in deep, guttural voices. Laughing at something. Completely comfortable in the swamp like they owned it. Which, effectively, they did.

  The hunting party was pressed into mud fifteen feet from the patrol's path. Covered in debris. Not breathing. Not moving. Every gremlin praying to whatever spirits might listen that the orcs would pass without noticing.

  The patrol came closer. Ten feet. Their voices clearer now. Words Jake couldn't understand through Rikk's comprehension, but tone was obvious. Casual conversation. Boredom. These were professional soldiers on routine patrol. Not even particularly alert.

  One orc kicked something on the path. A skull. Old. Bleached white by weather. Probably gremlin based on size. The orc laughed, said something to his companions. They laughed too. Kept walking.

  Five feet from the hidden hunters. Close enough to see details. Scars on green skin. Weapons worn from use. Eyes that scanned surroundings without really seeing. Not expecting threats. Not even considering that anything dangerous might challenge them here.

  One orc stopped. Sniffed the air.

  Everyone's terror spiked. Hearts pounding so loud Jake thought the orcs must hear them. Rikk fighting every instinct to bolt, to flee, to do anything except remain perfectly still.

  The orc grunted. Spat into the undergrowth. A glob of saliva landed inches from Zikka's face. She didn't move. Didn't even blink.

  The orc moved on. Rejoined his patrol. They continued northeast, voices fading, footsteps receding. Gone.

  Nobody moved for ten minutes. Maybe longer. Time lost meaning in absolute stillness. Every gremlin frozen, waiting, making sure the orcs were truly gone and not circling back.

  Finally, Vrek made a small hand gesture. Safe. Move.

  They emerged from hiding slowly, carefully, still mostly silent. Covered in mud and debris and their own fear-stink. Shaking. Even the professionals were visibly rattled.

  Vrek looked at Rikk with new intensity. "You save our life. All of us. Dead if walk into that. Spirit-blessing give warning. Save everyone."

  Grish nodded, still shaken. "Not just warning. Enough warning to hide proper. To cover good. Without sound-sight, we walk right into orc patrol. All die. All of us."

  The others murmured agreement. Zikka touched Rikk's shoulder briefly, genuine gratitude in the gesture. Nix made a formal bow, respect gesture for saving lives.

  Rikk's pride swelled dangerously. The terror was fading, replaced by exhilaration. He'd saved them. His blessing had detected the orcs. His new sense had prevented disaster.

  Spirit give you warning-sight, the thought crystallized in Rikk's mind. Is greatest blessing. You see danger before come. You protected.

  Jake felt the dangerous shift in Rikk's thinking. The young gremlin's natural caution was eroding. Being replaced by confidence that crossed into recklessness. The blessing had saved them from orcs. Therefore the blessing could save him from anything. Therefore he was protected. Special. Chosen.

  Kid, it's just echolocation, Jake thought uselessly toward Rikk. Don't let it go to your head. You're not invincible. The blessing isn't protection, it's just tools.

  But Rikk couldn't hear internal warnings. Could only feel the rush of having saved professional hunters from certain death. Could only process the respect and awe in their eyes. Could only believe what the evidence suggested: he was blessed, protected, special.

  The pride was building toward something dangerous. Jake could feel it through their connection. Overconfidence. The kind that got people killed.

  This is bad, Jake realized. He's starting to think he can't fail. That the spirits will protect him no matter what.

  That's how the panther died. Overconfidence born from too much success.

  They continued tracking after catching their breath. More cautious now. Using Rikk's echolocation constantly to scout ahead. The orc encounter had reminded everyone how dangerous the swamp was. How many things could kill them besides the bear they were hunting.

  The trail led deeper into wild territory. Areas where gremlins rarely went. The bear was comfortable here, claiming space far from the village but close enough to raid when opportunity presented.

  Late afternoon brought them to the den.

  It was massive. A hollow carved under dead mangrove roots, entrance large enough to swallow a gremlin whole. Fresh tracks everywhere. Claw marks recently made. Scat still steaming. The bear was close. Possibly inside. Possibly nearby.

  The team gathered at safe distance to plan.

  "We surround entrance," Vrek said quietly. "Wait for bear to emerge or return. Hit from multiple angles. Rikk, you position here, on flank. Not front. Not primary strike. Understand? You watch, you support, you stay safe."

  Rikk nodded, though Jake felt the young gremlin's disappointment. He wanted to be primary striker. Wanted to prove himself fully. But professional hunters were running this hunt. They made the calls.

  They took positions carefully. Vrek and Grish near the entrance. Zikka up high with bow ready. Nix on opposite flank. Rikk where assigned, spear ready, trying to stay patient.

  Then they waited.

  Hunting was patience. Jake had learned that from the panther. Waiting for the right moment. Not forcing opportunities. Letting prey come to you rather than chasing recklessly.

  The professionals understood this instinctively. They settled into absolute stillness. Hours could pass without movement. That's what real hunting required.

  Grish noticed Rikk's fidgeting and moved closer. "Patience is hunting," he whispered. "Rush is dying. Bear come eventually. We wait. We ready. We kill. But first, we wait."

  Rikk tried to settle. Tried to embrace the patience. But nervous energy and overconfidence kept him keyed up. The blessing had saved them from orcs. The blessing made him special. Surely the blessing wanted him to succeed. To be brave. To prove himself.

  That's not how this works, Jake thought desperately. The blessing is me. I'm not divine protection. I'm a parasite who's going to kill you. Don't trust this.

  Movement from the den.

  Something stirring inside. Large. Very large. The professionals tensed, weapons ready. Perfect ambush setup. Multiple angles. Coordinated strike. Everything prepared.

  The bear emerged slowly.

  Massive was an understatement. Eight hundred pounds easily. Maybe more. Scarred from old fights. One ear torn. Claws like daggers. Eyes that showed intelligence and experience. This wasn't young bear learning to hunt. This was an apex predator in its prime.

  The team waited. Let it emerge fully. Get into position where all angles could strike. Patient. Professional. Waiting for the perfect moment.

  And then Rikk charged.

  Everything happened too fast for thought. Just action. Pure impulse born from overconfidence and desperate need to prove himself.

  "FOR VILLAGE!" Rikk screamed, breaking from position. "FOR MOTHER!"

  Spear raised. Running full speed at eight hundred pounds of apex predator. Believing the blessing would protect him. Believing the spirits wanted this. Believing he was special enough to solo-charge a swamp-bear.

  The professionals screamed. "NO!" "WAIT!" "STOP!"

  Breaking their own positions to try to save him. Perfect ambush collapsing into chaos. Everything wrong. Everything falling apart.

  The bear turned toward the screaming gremlin. Not frightened. Not even surprised. Just mildly interested in the small creature charging with spear raised.

  Rikk mid-charge. Spear coming up for throw. War cry still echoing. Believing in protection that didn't exist. Believing in blessing that was actually curse.

  The bear was massive. Utterly unimpressed. Already shifting weight to swat whatever was stupid enough to attack alone.

  And Jake, experiencing it all from inside Rikk's consciousness, screamed mentally.

  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

  - - -

  End of Chapter 14