Rodriguez was trying to come in low and fast. The Challenger continued along, but her erratic movement forced him to seek hiding places. This broke the pace of his approach.

  He was patient, slowly getting closer. No sign of his approach being detected. Things were not looking good for the Challenger on the surface. But I had seen enough times that unexpected things happen, so I didn't count on an obvious outcome.

  She was about to leave the area where he planned to ambush her. He was almost to her, and if he was going to move, it would be now or never.

  He broke cover and ran at the Challenger when she turned her back. He closed the distance in a few strides, raising his tomahawk to strike her head.

  I was watching her and caught a faint flash of light, since I was also behind her; it seemed to come from the crystal around her neck.

  In response, she turned with a twirl and threw the bottle she was still holding towards the charging figure behind her. It was a near blind throw, and the bottle clipped Rodriguez. It shattered, and the liquid content spilt out.

  The effects happened within a few seconds.

  Rodriguez stopped. Doubled over and started vomiting. The Challenger turned again, hitched her skirts and ran.

  "Eh?"

  Was my response as I remained still, dumbfounded.

  I forced myself to quickly chase after the Challenger, who was now making much faster time. Rodriguez was left still emptying his guts.

  What the hell was that?

  The liquid had effectively disabled my Hunter. I had never heard of it before. Was it an alchemical potion of some kind?

  I caught up with her, not as far as I expected. She had slowed, looking over her shoulder, breathing hard. She was pulling another bottle from her apron when I arrived.

  What else was in those pockets?

  The Challenger was still walking, but not dancing. She was wearing a hat that had come off, but it was tied loosely around her neck. She reached behind her head and pulled it back on.

  I focused more on her necklace. The crystal was attached to a copper chain. It was clear and about 2 inches long, cut into multiple pieces.

  I got closer and started to feel the familiar feeling of magic from the crystal. It made no reaction to my presence. I wondered why. Am I not considered a threat? I felt a little insulted by that.

  She was bringing her breathing back under control as she walked and crossed out of Rodriguez's hunting grounds. She had reached the junction that led to the next ring. Harrington was next up.

  This subsequent encounter would be interesting to observe—the Challengers' magic vs Harrington's.

  I settled back into my usual position after watching everything she did. It was not long before she stopped and took off the satchel she was carrying. A canteen was produced, and the lid unscrewed. She drank, still looking around for danger. This was odd as far as she was aware, Rodriguez was still a threat. Her body posture was alert but not stressed due to fear.

  The canteen was put away, and the satchel was put back on. She gripped her necklace again and started muttering and recasting the spell or charm? Maybe.

  I sensed… something again. I was close to her, and the air was different. It was brief, but I caught it. I was slowly learning about magic. Was I anywhere close to casting or even channelling magic…Hell no! But I was learning, and that was the important part.

  She started walking again. The scythe was still gripped in her hand, unused. I was willing to go out on a limb and say that combat will be the worst place for her. It was not a sexist assumption… Okay, maybe a little. The woman was physically fit, as I had already observed, but she was not built the same way a man was at this time or at any time. She was slight and lacked the muscular bulk men possess. That did not mean she was not dangerous, as she had already proven. She relied on guile and trickery over brute strength. I respected that because it showed that she was smart enough to know her own weaknesses.

  With her walking again, I started scanning the area for Harrington. To find him, I had five patches of shadow that were not precisely correct. This made it hard to spot him and far harder than any of the others when he was hiding. With the growing darkness in the graveyard, with the sun sinking behind the mountains to the west, the possible locations only increased. The growing darkness did not bother me, but might even help me spot him. Over the years, I had come to realise that when used as magic, it even disrupted my sight slightly.

  She was no longer doing the dancing walk she had been doing when she first entered. Whether it had fulfilled its purpose or she realised that it was a distraction, I do not know. She was acting more like a regular Challenger, now constantly scanning the area for danger. She often checked behind her as well, making sure that there wasn't anything or anyone trailing her. I found this a bit sad to watch, as the novelty of her attempt was fading, and she was taking a more practical approach to survival.

  She was following the correct route towards the church with an almost practised precision. It seems she paid close attention to her dreams and learned the route. She was avoiding all the wrong turns and dead ends.

  I think I spotted something that stood out. Between a tree and the mausoleum, there was a dark patch. What made this patch different from all the other areas around me, where darkness was overwhelming, was the fact that I could not see into it.

  "There you are."

  I said to myself, I was certain that was when my Hunter was waiting. We are only a few metres away from it, and I settled in to see what her reaction would be. At first, there was no indication she was aware of the danger. Her body posture or walking pace had changed. But as she got closer to the area where Harrington was waiting, I noticed a slight change. There was no hesitation in her step now. She wasn't looking exactly in his direction, but she suspected she was aware that something was wrong here and was unable to identify where the danger was, just yet.

  The closer she got to where Harrington was hiding, the slower she became. She stopped close to him, but far enough away that revealing himself would not give him an overwhelming advantage. She was looking around, and with her spare hand, she had reached into her apron pocket and was digging around for something in there.

  Finding what she was looking for, she withdrew her hand, gripping something. Then started forward again. She was almost close enough to him for the attack.

  I was anticipating violence any second.

  The shadows shifted.

  One shadow started moving.

  The witch reacted.

  She threw whatever was in her hand ahead of her, close to where Harrington was. I saw it as it flew through the air—another crystal.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  It started its downward angle as gravity reclaimed it, but then whatever spell or magic it contained triggered.

  Blinding light.

  "Bloody hell!"

  My sight was filled with light, and I was momentarily blinded.

  I heard a cry of pain.

  Blurry, my vision returned as I made out movement.

  It was clearing as I saw the Challenger running forward. Harrington was standing before the tree, holding his face with his sword on the ground. The cry of pain had come from him.

  She ran past him while he was standing, since the tree was right next to the path. As she did so, she struck out with her scythe. She was not aiming very well, as she hit him while concentrating only on going past him. The curved blade tore through his legs along the thighs.

  Another cry of pain came again, but this time Harrington collapsed to the ground. The wound seemed deeper than I first realised, and blood was pumping from it. The Challenger didn't wait; they kept moving. She was using speed over a killer's instinct to escape. I didn't know she was aware not, but if she escaped a hunting ground with the Hunter still alive, they bowed out.

  I wanted to stay to see how Harrington was, but I had to stay with the Challenger.

  She was making good time now into the deepening darkness consuming the graveyard. Only one Hunter now stood between her and the church. Rigger.

  It only took a few seconds to catch up with her as she ran. The light was almost gone with the sun setting behind the mountains, but there was just enough to allow her to navigate still. It was only a sliver of a crescent moon this night. I could just make it out in the sky. The changing colour of the sky was starting to reveal the stars.

  The Challenger began to slow, now seeking to recover her breath. It seems cardio wasn't a significant part of her lifestyle. Add in the riding boots she was wearing, and running was not very practical.

  She was walking now, and the way she was holding aside, I think she had a stitch. Her breathing was hard and ragged. Sweat glistened across the face.

  She wasn't stopping this time; her journey abroad was too deep into the graveyard, and the spire of the church loomed in the sky. She was close, and she knew it. She had just passed out of Harrington's hunting grounds and now stepped into Riggers.

  As she walked, I reflected on what had just happened.

  Her choices of which items you were using were proving almost prescient. The file that caused such a foul smell that Rodriguez threw up, and now a crystal containing light that temporarily blinded Harrington.

  Luck or gathered intelligence?

  Had the dreams told her what she would be facing here? Or is she able to interpret enough from them to get a good picture?

  My frustration at my lack of knowledge continued. I was in the dark about so much that pertained to New Midian. I can understand some restrictions, but the amount of information being withheld from me was becoming detrimental. Maybe that was part of the challenge of being the Keeper of such places. I was expected to rise to the challenge as the Challengers raised themselves to mine.

  Well, that was rather philosophical of me.

  I mentally shook myself to clear my mind and focus on the Challenger. It was rather disrespectful of me to ignore her trial.

  I concentrated on the graveyard around us. The mausoleums, statues, trees and gravestones that made up my graveyard were far denser now. She was crossing into the second ring. Continue along this path was a direct route to the church. I could make it out in the distance. The irony was that this ring had to clear paths to the church, enabling ambushes to be mounted far more efficiently. It wasn't much of a maze here unless you came in from a different direction.

  Now, where was Rigger?

  The sight of the church did not make a move faster. Most would have picked up their pace to get to the safety the building represented, but this Challenger was smart. She was holding something again in her free hand after digging out of her apron pocket.

  What could she used to stop Rigger?

  Now that was an interesting question for me. If she had the correct answer to face him, I knew she had some inside intelligence about what she was facing here. I had been racking my brain about what any of the dreams that all challengers received were, and I knew they weren't that detailed. They got the route to the church and nothing more, if my memory serves me right.

  The sun was only now a memory of a fiery sky in the distant west. Darkness had almost completely consumed the graveyard. Still, her lantern was unlit, and she was travelling by what little light was left supplied by the moon.

  I drifted up a little higher, looking around. Where was he?

  She was making steady progress toward the church, and I expected him to have moved by now if he was nearby. He was a bit predictable when it came to hunting around the church. He stuck to whichever pathway his ground covered and watched it with an almost religious fervour.

  The Challenger continued to go forward. She was tense and ready for trouble. I approved of the fact that she wasn't letting her guard down yet.

  I looked up and around again. I caught a brief flicker of movement.

  There he was.

  He was off to the side, slightly hidden in the darkness caused by two mausoleums close together. The gap between them was where he was hiding. Possibly a bit obvious, but it supplied an excellent vantage point of the pathway.

  The Challenger walked past him without noticing his presence.

  Considering what I've been told about his smell, that was a rather impressive feat on his side.

  His form detached from the darkness and began moving up behind the Challenger. His Bowie knife was drawn and ready for use. This might be the end of this Challenger's attempt.

  She was always at the end of the second ring, about to enter the central one, when the church was located. She was approaching from the south side of the church and needed to move around the north side to reach the doors.

  Would she make it?

  Rigger moved.

  He came up fast behind her, and I heard a deep sniff from the Challenger.

  She twisted around violently, throwing whatever was in her hand. Rigger was too close. Closer than she realised, with far better reflexes. Whenever she threw, he swatted away. The bottle didn't break immediately, but shattered on the ground a safe distance away.

  The Challenger tried backing up, but he was too close.

  He cut through her clothing across her arm, which is used to throw the bottle. She cried out in pain now. A second stab went for her guts, but this time she was able to block it with her scythe. The whole time, she was backtracking as fast as she could. Rigger easily kept up with her.

  He thought he had the measure of his opponent and was now taking his time. He was striking at her but allowing her to block with her weapon. I knew he was much faster and more aggressive, but allowing her to do this was showing me he was playing with her.

  He had a strange grin on his face. What disturbed me most was that he might see this as flirting.

  The fight had entered the heart of the maze and the graveyard. They had reached the church. Watching Rigger toying with the Challenger worried me that they might trample my flower beds.

  If they did me in, Rigger will be having a very long and unpleasant conversation.

  It was like you heard me shifting the challenge's direction by attacking her in different ways. She was desperately searching her pockets on her apron, but Rigger was given a chance to find anything to use against him.

  He cut her again on the same arm and then across the chest. Her heavy leather apron protected her, but when the straps were cut, it hung partly loose now. She had been unable to do anything in return.

  She was desperate. Her face was twisted in fear and pain.

  Desperate people make better decisions, and sometimes they actually work out.

  She had gripped something in her hand that she had pulled out of one of the pockets. With a flick of her wrist, she flung it at him. I got a flash of weak light bouncing off metal. Rigger was confident in his dominance of the fight and caught it with ease.

  My instincts and experience watching this Challenger told me it was a mistake.

  Rigger stepped back and opened his hand. I saw his eyes glance down to whatever was in his palm, and he stopped. His face went slack, and he just stood there stupefied, looking at it.

  The Challenger didn't hesitate and turned and ran again. She was heading for the doors. Before I followed, I took a quick look at what was in his palm. From a glimpse of a metal object the size of a coin, it appeared handmade and covered with strange symbols.

  I couldn't get a better look as I had to follow the Challenger.

  She was running at full speed again, breathing hard. Fighting took a lot out of you physically and emotionally, and the adrenaline spikes she had been suffering since entering the graveyard were taking their toll on her body. Adrenaline can only carry you so far before you collapse, exhausted, and it looked like she was reaching that point.

  She turned the corner of the building to the doors. Without ceremony and driven by desperation, she flung one open, getting inside the building and slamming it shut behind her. The sound of the door hitting the door frame echoed through the building.

  The sense of peace washed over me.

  She had made it to the halfway point. I was honestly surprised by this, as her physical stature and what I've seen of her reflexes and spoken against making it. But her craft or spells, whenever you want to call it, had carried her this far. But would it carry her any further?

  She stood there breathing hard with her eyes closed. I could see her body shaking from both the injuries and adrenaline crashing, which is probably suffering. She needed to fulfil the part of the trial in this building, but there was no rush.

  With shaky hands, she pulled a lantern from her satchel. Every time she ran, it made a clicking sound as it bounced around, but now she was putting it to use. It took several attempts to ignite the two-night candle, but eventually the yellow flame within it split forth, illuminating the area.

  With a deep breath, she walked towards the altar, which she could make out on the other side of the room.