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oss, it’s us!” Ranko said, trying to defuse what could easily become a tragic misunderstanding. For a moment, nobody moved at all. The tension was excruciating. Ranko urgently wanted to walk over and demonstrate to Alanna the truth of their identity, but she knew the Warrior of the River was confused and scared.

Ranko wasn’t going to take a chance, but Shannon didn’t hear Alanna’s warning.

“Alanna, we’re not going to hurt you…” the Huntress put out her hand and took a step forward. The only reason Ranko avoided the Winterdancer’s first attack is because she didn’t turn to warn Shannon off.

By the time Cici realized she was slipping and falling on solid ice, Shannon was already stunned from landing hard on her back. Simply putting her hand forward had given the Warrior of the River enough of an opening to leap forward and toss the Huntress nearly 12 feet with a perfect one-handed shoulder throw.

The Chronicler’s Lantern clattered to the ground and was swatted away by a single spin of Alanna’s staff. Ranko grimaced as she backed away. The Warrior of the River had fought alongside the other warriors. She knew all of their powers. Most importantly, she knew their weaknesses.

Kishi scuttled off to one side with his tail down as if avoiding a falling stack of dishes as the Warrior of the River spun past. Normally he would have gone after anyone who got so close to the Huntress, but Alanna was friendly. Kishi was also confused by the other girls’ hesitancy. He watched as Alanna squared off against the only Ajan still standing.

The Warrior of the Storms braced herself as the Warrior of the River began to circle. Once again, it was the archetypical standoff. The boxer vs. the wrestler: Two physical combatants equally matched by their completely opposite battle strategies: Quickness vs. Strength, Agility vs. Power.

Alanna feinted once, and Ranko stepped back, off-balance just enough to be unable to counter well. The attack flurry was instant and savage. The Crimson Champion cross-parried the Quarterseeker’s downward strike with the handle of her hammer, then winced as she tried to dodge.

“HA!” Alanna shouted as she drove a super-quick two-handed lateral blow of her staff into Ranko’s side. The plate armor deflected much of its power, but it still knocked the wind out of her.

Coughing and gasping for air, Ranko tried to counter to buy room, but the move put her even further off balance. The Winterdancer spun with blinding quickness, and her roundhouse kick landed squarely across Ranko’s face, knocking the Warrior of the Storms’ helmet off. Ranko’s vision flashed in a blur of pain and she fell away, landing on one knee and trying to support herself with her weapon. She scrambled to get distance.

By now Shannon was back on her feet. She had few options. The Huntress was hopelessly outmatched by Alanna in close-quarters combat skills, and firing an arrow or crossbow bolt at her friend was out of the question. There was one option, however. The Warrior of the Night could feel the moonlight on the skin of her arms and she turned to face the peaceful glow of the waxing moon over her shoulder. A moment later, a silent wind caught her long hair and it fluttered in the darkness as she vanished completely.

Continue to Chapter Eight

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he Warrior of the River’s breathing was too fast for her to remain as quiet as she wanted. Night had fallen and she had chosen an excellent hiding place, but she was certain that the stale, sour air would soon make her wheeze or cough and give away her position.

She could hear something approaching from the direction of the inner arena. Between her and whomever or whatever it was loomed a massive sandstone pillar: one of the huge stones that formed the outer ring of the arena structure.

Up to now, surprise had been her ally, and she once again prepared to utilize it. Alanna looked up quickly to judge height and angle, then she shifted to her right. Across the ground she could see three long shadows cast by the flickering torchlight moving towards her position.

It was now or never.

“He took this path,” the Huntress said, pointing along the ground where the Chronicler’s Lantern cast it’s colorful light. “The dirt and rocks are burnt, but these are the tracks of one man.”

“What were those tracks in the inner ring?” Ranko asked, referring to the center-most region of the half-mile-wide pillar-encircled centerpiece of Bronzewing Rift.

Shannon just kept walking. Ranko took a breath to repeat herself, then her words became a troubled look. She reminded herself they needed to find Talitha as soon as they could.

“There’s lots of little cracks in the ground,” Cici said. “Everywhere those big monster feet were, the ground is all broken and smashed together.”

“Whatever it was, it must have been–” The Warrior of the Storms saw the faintest quicksilver flash overhead. Something had flown over them. She turned quickly in a defensive stance, holding Thundercaller across her body, then a delighted expression replaced her frown.

“Boss!”

Shannon and Cici turned and saw the Warrior of the River standing in a graceful pose only a few yards away from them, the smooth surface of the Quarterseeker fighting staff gleaming from behind her right arm. Silhouetted by the orange light of the torches, Alanna looked taller, even dire.

“Hi Alanna!” Cici exclaimed joyfully. She started forward, then she stopped. Alanna’s threatening posture was matched only by the powerful glare in her purple eyes.

Ranko cautiously put a hand on Cici’s shoulder. It was a non-threatening signal the warriors had developed for situations just like this. The Warrior of the Rocks understood and willed her Lantern’s light to brighten until they could see their friend clearly. Kishi watched the familiar older girl expectantly, his ears standing straight up.

As the light crept far enough to illuminate them, the Huntress noticed smudges of dirt, scorches and burns along the arms and legs of Alanna’s raiments. Her torn sash and the huge purple bruise on the left side of her face were further signs: Alanna Kawa had been in at least one, and possibly several vicious fights. Ranko wondered if the Warrior of the River had fought to survive all alone.

Then Ranko felt a chill. Alanna neither approached them nor even seemed to recognize them.

The Warrior of the Storms was confident in her own combat abilities and in the sheer power of her weapon and heavy armor, but deep in her heart she knew that the Winterdancer was a very dangerous and unpredictable opponent, even outnumbered four to one.

“You okay there, boss?” Ranko asked tentatively while very gently adjusting her own stance for maximum protection against what she knew were Alanna’s favored opening attacks. She realized too late that Alanna would recognize the escalation, and she muttered self-criticism through gritted teeth. It was a rookie mistake. Reina would not have approved.

The Warrior of the River responded in kind. She spun her staff in a quick flourish and caught it behind her right arm again, moving her right foot back and centering her weight. Ranko recognized the battle stance instantly. The Ajan Warrior of the River’s words were colder than the ice she commanded.

“You will not deceive me again.”

Continue to Chapter Seven