Alice ducked under his next blow and aimed a strike at his thigh, trying to bring him down. Instead, her boot slid off, lubricated by the water and oils that had filled it. The man laughed, enjoying himself, as she limped backward trying to protect herself. She was in real trouble now: weak, injured, and weaponless against someone whose training matched hers. He attacked again, and she dodged the blade but was slowing, breath ragged, arms trembling. The walls closed around her, and she remembered something ... What? A flicker, the fabric of time paper thin, she pushed through.