Rayadell expected the animal’s stop, Broach’s hooves digging into the earth of the path.
	A second before the animal jerked to a full halt, sending Calanon overboard, she nimbly leapt from the elk. Her cloak flared slightly around her feet, but settled quickly, the tips of her wings easily mistaken as another garment to the unsuspecting, untrained eye. With little more than a thought and the gentlest touch of magic, the second her feet landed lightly on the path on the same side as Calanon, a long, silvery blade shot from either end of her staff.
	She scowled and glanced to the woods as the axeman took a step forward, a wicked gleam in his beady eyes as he swung his weapons, Calanon dodging an arrow.
	Rayadell scowled and leaped forward, ducking, at another, quiet [i]thwang[/i] of an arrow being loosed. It soared over her head from above them, the archer hidden by foliage. The arrow embedded into the base of a tree on the opposite side of the path.
	She gave Calanon a quick nod. “Do it, and do it fast!” she snapped, quickly stepping around him to face the man in his rock armor. Hoping Calanon was as skilled at fighting as he was at acrobatics, she gripped her staff, ready to fight or defend with it.
	“Tell ya what!” the man called, his voice gravely. “Surrender your goods, and we just might letchya go!”
	“Cute.” Rayadell smirked at him. “But not going to happen!” She rushed at him, forcing his full attention to her. White flames erupted from her palms and spiraled down the shaft to the sword blades, igniting them in fire.
	The stocky man undoubtedly had strength on his side, but she had speed and magic.
	The man cursed and jumped back out of her reach as fast as his bulky body let him as she brought first one blade down on him, then swung it swiftly to try meeting him with the other.
 	Narrowly avoiding her attacks, he shouted something in a language she did not recognize. The sound of two more arrows being released faintly met her ears, one right after the other, giving her only a fraction of a second to register the sound and dodge. 
	She stepped swiftly back, each step a slight hop. The first arrow dug into the ground where she had stood, while the second pierced the hem of her cloak. She swiftly yanked it free, expecting the archers to fire off another round, but the rock-man charged her with a guttural cry, swinging his axes in a deadly arch.
	She raised the staff and blocked one of his blows with the shaft, then tilted it to deflect his second. The blades stuck slightly in the wood, making hot sparks flair up from the stream of flames, and she moved to kick him as she jerked the staff to the side, trying to knock him off balance. 
	His weapons pulled free when she twirled the staff, and he stumbled back to avoid her kick. She lunged forward, ready to strike, but another arrow rushed by her. Its tip and fletching grazed the back of her neck, catching and pulling at her hair as it shot by. 
	She gasped and was forced back by a second shot from the same direction in quick succession.
	“Any day now, Cal!” she called as the man tried to take advantage of the arrows’ distraction and lunged once more.