Maelstrom, now smiling sardonically, doubled up in front of them, and Jayaa, perplexed, muttered: "A clone?"
Og'tharoz nodded. "Clones... that's his specialty."
The two Maelstroms moved in sync, but with only a shiny coin dancing between their nimble fingers. The wind whispered around them.
Kaizen, Alina and Xisrith watched intently, their eyes trying to follow the coin that changed hands at an almost imperceptible speed. Maelstrom's duplicity was confusing, but Og'tharoz, with his experience, knew there was a trick to it.
"Stay alert," Og'tharoz muttered. "He's trying to disorient us."
The Maelstrom clones continued to toss the coin among themselves, each movement a challenge to perception. The winds of the sandstorm, although diminished, still created an atmosphere of tension. Each particle of sand seemed to carry a memory.
