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Goldmoon bit her lip anxiously.
The sky had taken on a faint reddish light, indicating
that the red moon, which would open the doors to the hall,
was about to rise. The dawn of the sun was brightening the
sky all about her. She could see the combatants' faces
clearly now. Riverwind's features were grim and
determined. Hollow-sky's eyes were filled with bloodlust
and hatred. Goldmoon shivered, but not with cold.
Sweat trickled off the men's bodies despite the cool
mountain air. They circled each other again, waiting for an
opening in the other's defenses. Goldmoon's fingers dug
into the flesh of her arms as the tension rose like the mist in
the meadow.
Suddenly, Riverwind snarled like a wild cat. The sound
mocked a real wild cat's so accurately that it flushed a small
flock of birds from the trees. The noise of their wings
diverted Hollow-sky's attention for just an instant, but that
was all it took. Riverwind knocked his adversary down, and
Hollow-sky lost his grip on his pole. Riverwind closed in to
deliver a blow that would knock the traitor senseless - or
worse.
But Riverwind's injured knee slowed his attack, and
Hollow-sky rolled away, scrambling to his feet. He slipped
beneath Riverwind's blocking swing and ran up the stairs
that led to the doors of the Hall of the Sleeping Spirits,
dragging his pole behind him
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