A/N: I gave up on the thirteen thing. But I still like reviews, they make me all warm and fuzzy inside! Even flames, although I've been lucky so far, I will even read a flame. Why? Because they can be helpful. Idunno… So, anyways, TADA! Now, off you go. Enjoy!

Chapter 6

The next round went quickly: Rhiannon lost her daggers to a shot of mace in the face, and the rocks for the slingshot quickly ran out, as did the can of mace.

917 and Rhiannon were fairly close to 917's rack when the round ended, so naturally, 917 reached her rack first. She ripped the long bow off the rack and shot her first arrow as the quiver slipped neatly onto her back. Rhiannon stylishly dodged it before she realized it was not aimed at her. 917 shot her arrow at Rhiannon's rack, neatly knocking the crossbow off and breaking the black box that contained its arrows. Rhiannon and 917 raced to the crossbow, but 917 won by miles.

"No!" shrieked Rhiannon, but the only sound escaping her mouth was a vile, evil hiss.

917 smirked and taunted her by saying, "And if I did this?" as she touched the crossbow's handle with a finger. It faded into the green glass floor. 917 laughed maliciously. She reached out for the rowan wand, Rhiannon's final weapon. Her fist closed around the wood of the wand…

And 917 received a nasty jolt of electric energy as punishment for touching the other player's rack. "OW!" she cried, rubbing her hand and pouting. She dropped her longbow, and it clattered on the glass floor. She bent down to pick it up, but it and the quiver faded into the air. "Shit no!" exclaimed 917 furiously. Looking up at the cackling Rhiannon, who greatly enjoyed instant karma, she said, "Fine. You just have to wait a few more seconds to die."

But 917 knew that she and Rhiannon were equal distances from their racks, and that they moved at similar speeds. They stood at a stalemate for several minutes, neither daring to begin to cross the glass. 917 broke the stillness with a swift sprint that instantly slipped into a blur. Rhiannon set off before 917 stole from sight, however, and moved directly into the rocketing speed she was just getting used to.

Although she had no control over her body and was only watching from the sidelines, Rhiannon willed her body faster, as any spectator would. She was surprised to find it obey. She was so stunned that she almost did not notice that she was passing the rack. "STOP!" she shrieked. As she skidded across the floor, she snatched her last weapon, the wand, and turned, hearing her own voice for the first time since the match began. Realizing that she finally had control of her body, Rhiannon had only the basic idea of what to do with the wand, and she hoped it would work like it did in the books…

She concentrated as she dodged two of the bullets from 917's pistol, willing, no, praying that something would protect her. She concentrated harder and the bullets began ricocheting about two feet in front of her. She concentrated even harder and a blue orb began to glow around her. She concentrated a little harder and the orb began to crackle. She opened her eyes and the orb broke into hundreds of rapidly moving threads that slowly formed a ball of lightning surrounding its mistress. She screamed at her creation and it collapsed upon her.

Rhiannon felt every part of her change. Her wand was now useless; it had burned to nothing but white ash. Her hands tingled and vibrated with the lightning running through her. Her lips, toes, ears, and eyes were numb. She felt a darkness creeping over her. But even as she began to slip into unconsciousness, she felt her muscles tense with excitement. She felt almost as if she could jump over the Empire State Building in a nanosecond. And suddenly, every sensation was gone. She found herself on her feet.

She breathed out, and a few sparks flew from her mouth. 917 was petrified.

And so was she…

-}^^#~@~#^^{-

Don't you just hate me? Kukukuku, I hope I can post before August 8th, but it looks like I'll be chilling in Kansas for a while. With my computerless gran who lives in Nowheresville. (nothing against Kansas) *sigh* goodbye, civilization. goodbye, dear readers. Love y'all!

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