Chapitre Trois (Chapter Three, en francais)
"It's your hide that'll be whipped," Rhiannon replied icily.
"CHICKEN!" yelled the little girl.
Rhiannon's blood went cold. No-one had ever dared call her that, ever. She saw herself react harshly to 917's challenge, and she lost all control of her body.
"Agents," she began, as she floated up and began to circle to the center of the large theater-in-the-round, "I request a playing field."
One agent stood as if to stop the fight, but one beside him pulled him down. "She is growing into her powers," he hissed.
All at once, a green beam shot through the room, creating a smooth, translucent surface about three above the agents' heads. It solidified and dark green circles and lines graced the surface like that of a nautical map found in a submarine, although this was no map. The little one looked as if she were about to back down, realizing that the challenge was being taken seriously, but the approving, encouraging glances from her supporters gave her the courage.
She winced and jumped through the glass.
It allowed her safe passage. An agent did the same. He walked to the center of the "field" and began to make the rules.
"You will not leave the arena until one of you has yielded," he said. "You will choose six weapons with which to fight. There will be no concealed weapons. There is no time limit. No one will be permitted to aid you should you fall into distress."
He paused. The girls nodded. He continued, "Choose your weapons now!"
At once two wooden racks appeared on either end of the room. Rhiannon watched herself walk over to a rack, although she herself had no idea what to do.
"Katana!" Rhiannon heard herself yell.
A katana appeared in one slot on the rack.
"Egyptian daggers!"
Two daggers appeared, hanging on a peg by the leather cord that bound then together. They looked like spikes attached to hilts.
"Rowan wand!" Rhiannon shouted. She had no idea what the thing controlling her was going to do with one.
"Rapid fire crossbow! Birch Staff! Slingshot!"
What the hell? she thought. I don't even know what that is! She got her answer, though. In the fifth slot a six-foot long wooden stick about two inches in diameter appeared.
The little girl, following Rhiannon's lead, was shouting out her own weapons. She chose a shotgun, a machine gun, a long bow, a can of mace, a forty-five, and a rapier.
The agent walked to the center of the ring again. "Players! Three…. Two…. One…. Fight!" he yelled.
917 grabbed her machine gun and started firing, aiming at Rhiannon. But there's a funny thing about machine guns. They kick. And they also like to fire high. So 917 started firing at Rhiannon, but ended up firing at the ceiling. Rhiannon smoothly blocked the first bullet with the staff. She tossed the staff back onto the rack and grabbed the katana.
She pulled it from its sheath and flew into a fighting stance. 917 dropped the gun and grabbed her rapier. The gun dissolved.
Rhiannon sprinted forward and then jumped high into the air. She spun to get a good force behind her attack, and then… she dropped. 917 just barely dodged, and tried to stab Rhiannon in the back. Rhiannon used her sword as a pole vault and flipped forward, launching herself into the wall. She only noticed at the last second and slammed into it.
"Ow," she thought, although her body was twisting to do something else. She felt like she was riding a rollercoaster in the dark with giant swinging pendulums everywhere. Her stomach turned somersaults every time 917 aimed a blow at her.
917 tried to get another unfair hit, but Rhiannon blocked her just in time. They fought three times across the room before 917 got first blood. She nicked Rhiannon's left arm, leaving a small, but slightly painful cut. Rhiannon's body flipped away, and she tried to catch a look at her wound before her body went off again. There was a small bloodstain, but no cut.
917 was hunched over and had not moved. She looked up and smiled devilishly. Rhiannon sped forward, slashing left and then right, and then she jumped before she was halfway to 917. She spun, faster and faster, and she pulled her katana into two swords. She dropped into a new stance, more than prepared to do some major ass whooping. Using her left sword defensively, she attacked.
917 found that her every block came only just in time and that she was unable to land a single blow on Rhiannon, who started rapping her over the knuckles at every opportunity.
Rhiannon saw herself beating up an eight-year-old, and she could not stop herself. She was almost pleased when the katana broke. Its pieces faded into the floor, just as the machine gun had. She felt herself flipping backwards to grab…what? She saw her hands snatch the staff, and she felt its strong wood in her hands, although she had no control over what it did. She could not stop the stick from nearly beating the girl senseless. 917 tried to fight back with the rapier, but was unable to because of Rhiannon's sheer speed.
Rhiannon eventually managed to disarm 917. The rapier flew high over their heads, flipping end over end, before landing with the point embedded deep into the floor.
The girls raced to the weapon, and Rhiannon narrowly won. However, just as Rhiannon's hand closed on the hilt, it faded.
917 sprinted back to her rack, moving in a small blur. She seized the shotgun and started firing at Rhiannon. The girls moved faster, turning their deadly dance into a blur of lethal color, flitting above the heads of the spectators.
Pleased, the agents watched the duo dart about the strange glass, battling for their lives with only six weapons at their disposal. The A-lines watched in awe, for although they had moved that fast before, it only been once or twice and they had not controlled it.
Rhiannon's shot blocking moves had reduced the staff to splinters, and 917's wasteful firing had reduced her ammunition to zilch. Weapons down: three. Weapons to go: three.
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