“ Who are you to decide the fate of all?” Ayara clenched his fists. “ There 
is a word; sacrifice. Perhaps you have forgotten it? Did you put it out of your 
mind somewhere between Uzbekistan and Korea?” Ayara clapped one hard hand on 
Glasnost’s shoulder. “ You were born to serve your people. Just as a father and 
mother sacrifice to care and rear their children. You must be King one day, and 
as such play the father to our people. Just because you might not feel totally 
comfortable doing so is absolutely no excuse to just send our salvation away.”
“ But Uncle,” Glasnost stared at the floor. “ she doesn’t love me. The magic 
only worked one way. I love her too much to force a lifetime of unhappiness upon 
her.” 
“ Unhappiness?” Ayara barked. “ What of the unhappiness of our people, your 
people? Who look only to YOU for our salvation. Are they to nod and accept an 
eternal curse? My young prince, you MUST realize that this is the ONLY 
opportunity we have. If you die or she dies or you two fail to wed then our 
entire kingdom is lost forever!”
“ I know, Uncle.” Glasnost bowed his head.
“ She’ll learn to love you.” Ayara said in a kinder tone. “ You’ll see. You are 
a fine young man. Kind and loving. Generous and understanding. Strong and 
gentle. What’s not to love?” Ayara too a step back and turned to leave. “ You do 
love her. It’s painfully obvious. So simply treat her as your heart guides and 
all will be as God has planned.”
“ Thank you Uncle.” Glasnost said and shuffled over to take a seat near the 
window overlooking the outer palisade.
“ The prince’s bride, lady Tendo.” One of Nabiki’s new ladies-in-waiting 
announced as she opened the door.
    Walking a little awkwardly with a full entourage surrounding her Nabiki 
entered the room and made a Bee line for Glasnost.
“ Why won’t these people go away?” Nabiki gestured at the small troupe of 
servants surrounding her.
“ Because you haven’t verbally dismissed them.” Glasnost could not help but 
smile at her uplifting presence. 
“ Shalaminov,” Glasnost spoke to the highest ranking attendant. “ please inform 
all of lady Tendo’s attendants that they are to obey her somatic and pantomimed 
commands as best as they can interpret. Oh, and please ask them not to take 
offence, the language barrier is frustrating.”
“ Yes, sir.” Shalaminov nodded and signaled for the entourage to follow him out 
of the room.
    Nabiki watched the exchange with mounting frustration.
“ You really are the only one in this entire kingdom that speaks more than two 
words of Japanese.” Nabiki narrowed her eyes.
“ Many took interest are learning.” Glasnost found himself grinning. “ But 
most expect that you will pick up our dialect of Russian quickly enough. In 
fact, Shalaminov there speaks enough Japanese that he should be able to 
understand you if you speak simply and slowly for him.”
“ Then why the hell didn’t he say anything when I asked them ALL if anyone of 
them spoke even two words?” Nabiki snapped.
“ Because he wants to please his future queen. He was too afraid of sounding 
stupid to your ears or of saying the wrong word and offending you.”
“ Tell him that I don’t care how stupid he sounds. I want to at least be able to 
understand someone! I’ve been waiting for rescue for almost a week now, and I 
have nobody to talk to but you. And I hardly see you at all, so I just sit on my 
rear waiting to hear the palace guards screaming in alarm.”
    Her eyes were so beautiful when they were flashing like that. Glasnost 
folded his arms to restrain his hand from reaching out for hers.
“ With luck they will be here shortly.” He forced himself to say.
    Nabiki froze in mid sentence and stared at him. “ What did you say?”
“ You’re obviously unhappy here, right?” His heart started to pound against his 
ribcage. “ You don’t love me, right? And you’d rather return to Japan, right?”
    Caution crept onto Nabiki’s features as she merely nodded.
“ I thought that the same magic that gifted me with my love of you would bless 
you in kind. But obviously it has not, right?” Glasnost’s last words were 
drowned out to his own ears as pounding blood roared in them. He tightened his 
arms as if he could strangle the thrashing heart within his chest.
    He could not wait for her to answer. Even her slightly parted mouth was too 
painful to watch. He averted his eyes to the window and spoke quickly. “ Indeed, 
this is an unrequited love. And as I do love you I cannot force you onto a path 
that will only mean a miserable future for you. When your friends come I will 
help you escape.” He had been raised a Russian prince. Raised to be stronger 
than the icy winds or the Ural rock. He hated himself for the tremor in his 
voice. “ I ask only that you do not hate me. I will never see you again after I 
have ensured your escape, so don’t worry about that. If your friends do not show 
before the wedding ceremony I will take you from this kingdom myself, so don’t 
worry about that either.”
    Feeling the strength leave his legs he had to use his arms to stand from his 
chair. It hurt to look only through the window when Nabiki was so near, but it 
would hurt more to see her face.
“ I will see you in two days, at the ceremony. Or when your friends arrive.” 
    Only hearing his heart rage against inside his chest Glasnost strode from 
the room with as much dignity as his body would allow.

                           *         *         *

    “ The voice still chants upon the air.” Kuno shouted over the roaring winds.
“ Please?” Ukyo asked Genma.
“ No!” Genma barked. “ Besides, in this wind it would probably fly back at us.”
    Ranma had taken point, along with Kuno and the guide.
“ Our kind journeymaster says that he has never seen the wind this strong.” 
Kuno translated.
“ Then why hasn’t he turned back?” Ranma asked.
    Kuno translated.
“ It was a rhetorical question, Kuno.” Ranma growled.
“ Our journeymaster says that he would have if not for fear of dying alone on 
the way back.”
“ Why are the winds getting worse the closer we get?” Ranma asked.
    After a few exchanged between translator and guide, Kuno answered.
“ Because of the fell voice on the air.” Kuno said. “ It is a foul sorcerer who 
marshals the very winds to impede our quest.”
“ That’s it! I’m gonna kill him!” Ryouga roared from the rear of the party and 
began a headlong charge through knee deep snow at the breakneck pace of fifty 
centimeters a second.
    A ball of hail the size of a grapefruit chose its landing site to be 
Ryouga’s forehead. Dozens of its brethren quickly descended after it. Each one 
apparently aimed at a party member.
“ When I find that ‘fell voice’…” Ranma vowed darkly as he attempted to dodge 
about in the snow without falling down the mountainside. 

                           *         *         *

    Gurlukov was a old man among old men. Just a few months ago he had seen his 
one hundred seventh birthday. In his time he had seen the turning of the feudal 
system into a land of communism where socialism had been promised, his own 
kingdom being one of the scant few islands of royalty and nobility to survive in 
the vast motherland of them all. He watched oxen and plows replaced by 
mechanized tillers. Two generations of friends and their children had already 
lived and died around him. And the curse arise and slowly isolate the valley 
from the motherland. Gurlukov had long been regarded in the kingdom as the only 
constant of life. Gurlukov regarded himself as the only noteworthy freak of 
statistics in the kingdom, and had gone to bed every night for the last 
seventeen years joking with his second wife that he would be dead before 
morning. He had outlived his first wife at sixty five.
    After such a life the sight of a man shouting to redirect a small avalanche 
as a number of people ran down the pass and into the valley did little to 
surprise Gurlukov. 
“ Dear heart, what in God’s name are those people doing?” His wife clutched his 
arm at the sight of a man’s anger alone holding back the fury of a mountain. 
    Gurlukov watched for a moment, giving his wife’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“ I do believe they are heading for the Palace.” He told her. “ Please excuse 
me, I must go and uncover their reasons for such an invasion.”
    His wife clutched his arm tighter. “ I don’t think so. You’re not seventy 
anymore, you can’t be heading off people like you used to. Stay here and let the 
younger folk hurt themselves.”
“ Ah, but I think that those same younger folk need a chance to grow up past 
forty. Let an old man at least try and die serving his kingdom.”
“ You say that EVERY time you want to do something dangerous.” She gesticulated 
in frustration. “ Even if it has absolutely nothing to do with the kingdom!”
“ True, but I warned you about this before you married me.” Gurlukov smiled and 
started off down a shortcut. After almost eleven decades in the valley Gurlukov 
knew ALL the shortcuts.
    The walk was downhill and though it twisted about there were plenty of trees 
to catch should he stumble, so Gurlukov had little qualms about taking the path 
at a full jog. The run always helped ease the aches and stiffness in his hips 
and knees.
    After a mile or so he was close to where the intruders would meet his path. 
He took a moment to stop and listen. Voices raised in a strange language were 
approaching. Well, a language barrier was not impossible to overcome.

                           *         *         *

    “ It’s time, I know, I know.” Nabiki nodded at the servant holding the door 
open and almost frantically gesturing for her to walk through.
    It had taken a good hour to don the wedding dress and the makeup. Shalaminov 
explained the wedding ceremony to her as best he could in a laborious process of 
halting sentences and pantomime. Now that she knew her role in the wedding 
ceremony Nabiki wondered exactly how Glasnost planned on helping her escape. 
    A procession of servants surrounded her as the group walked to the Palace 
chapel. The walk was painfully short. The chapel was a scene from a movie.
    The whole isle on either side was full of the standing guests. Candles of 
glorious white light hung from chandeliers and magically heatless blue flames 
barely larger than a spark swirled around the air to a winter wind that could 
not be felt. The sight almost drew a gasp from Nabiki. Only the procession kept 
her in step all the way down the center isle and to finally stand beside the man 
she was to marry.
    As the priest began the long speech Glasnost turned his head towards her 
ever so slightly.
“ I would have cherished you always.” He whispered before raising his hand above 
his head and crying out.
    Above them a rift of mist erupted into being. Nabiki felt herself being 
lifted up into it. 
    The mist vanished in a flash of flame. Before the heat could wash over 
Nabiki’s face she felt another force seize and rip her through the air out over 
the assembled crowd.
    A older male voice bellowed in Russian. Glasnost’s reply was furious but 
weak. As she came to a suspended halt some two meters above the floor she looked 
down to see the man she recognized as Glasnost’s uncle, Ayara. Who held his hand 
palm up as if casually carrying her weight in it. The other was wreathed in a 
frigid cloud of ice crystals. The force of Ayara’s voice rang her ears as he 
shouted across the chapel at his nephew.


   
    “ One girl’s whims! Does that mean more to you than the fate of us all? Does 
she mean more to you than the lives of this kingdom, OUR Kingdom, YOUR Kingdom? 
By God, I will tear your love for her from you so that you can come to your 
senses.” Ayara bellowed. “ And if I cannot, I will pound her mind on the anvil 
until I can craft enough love in her for you to finally SAVE us!” 
“ I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you just for threatening her!” Glasnost yelled, his 
voice far weaker than Ayara’s.
“ Not so soon after opening a portal to Japan you won’t.” Ayara said. “ How long 
did it take you? You must have been preparing the casting for at least four or 
five days now. I seriously doubt that you can muster much art in the time before 
I can remedy this.”
“ Which will be how long?” The old voice of Gurlukov laughed from somewhere in 
the crowd.
    Seven figures leapt over the heads and shoulders from throughout the 
assembled guests. Each looked very Asian and very intent on harming Ayara. Some 
sort of throwing knives hissed through the air. One boy attacked with a wooden 
saber of all things. The rest came at him with only bare hands.
“ I thought you seven would still be somewhere in the farm fields.” Ayara calmly 
stated as lances of ice intercepted each attack in turn.  
“ Shortcut.” Gurlukov answered, cautiously walking among the fray as guests 
scattered and bolted for the exits.
“ Gurlukov?” Ayara looked genuinely hurt. “ Why side with the betrayers? I only 
want to save our people.” 




    Gurlukov leaned gingerly to one side to let a ricocheting spatula hiss past 
his beard. “ So did the Reds. I still remember Lenin’s speeches to the people. 
Stalin’s words still grate on my ears. While I still breathe I won’t let anyone, 
even you, try to ‘save’ us like this. There is only one ‘savior’ that I won’t 
question, and he hasn’t yet come to this earth again.”
    Kuno’s bokken, frozen and cracked, shattered in his hands. Akane lay on the 
floor shivering and holding her stomach, Ranma fumbled through the fray to her 
side. Ryouga’s attacks met with the same futile results as Ranma’s. Genma and 
Soun pounded away in tandem at one point, the lances of ice shattering under 
their combined blows. Only to be replaced by more before either man could 
advance. Ukyo continued to probe for weakness from afar with her throwing 
spatulas. Ayara seemed just as oblivious to this as the old man standing only a 
few meters in front of him was.
“ Don’t you understand Gurlukov?” Ayara growled. “ This girl was our only 
chance. The only one we’ll ever have! I cannot permit this to pass. My nephew 
would have doomed our people to eventual extinction! I’m sorry, elder, but this 
is a case where the ends justify ANY means!”
    Ayara jerked his arms in three sharp gestures. 
    Genma and Soun flew past Gurlukov at head height to slam into the far wall.
    Ukyo and Kuno went down in a burst of frost. 
    Ryouga slammed into Ranma as a blast of ice shards tore into them.
“ The elders can find whatever punishment they like for me, Gurlukov. But only 
after I save us all.” Ayara rumbled as he wove his hands about and two rifts of 
mist formed above. One swallowed Nabiki as she screamed. The other enveloped 
Ayara. 



    Ranma pushed Ryouga off of him and took a look around the room. Akane and 
Ukyo looked frozen to death as they laid motionless on the floor covered in 
frost. Soun and Genma were nowhere he could see. Kuno was slumped against a 
wall, but Ranma thought he could see the swordsman’s chest rise and fall. The 
old man they had followed was approaching him. 
“ Ryouga, get up.” Ranma hauled up his friend/enemy by his bandanna.
    Ryouga groaned faintly, but did nothing else. 
“ Your comrade is too injured.” The old man’s voice said in Japanese in Ranma’s 
head as Russian gibberish met his ears. Ranma wished he knew that trick. 
“ How are Akane and Ukyo?” Ranma asked, easing Ryouga down to the ground.
    The old man nodded to himself. “ I will ensure that there is no lasting 
injury to any of your comrades. But now you must keep my prince alive long 
enough to save his bride to be.”
“ Thanks for my friends old man, but Naibki ain’t marryin’ nobody.” Ranma 
checked his joints, nothing seemed overly injured. 
“ So you say, but she is our only hope.” The old man stood undaunted as Ranma 
flexed and stretched. “ But negotiations will wait until all are safe once Ayara 
is either stopped or brought to his senses. Now, go!” The old man gestured 
sharply to a tapestry. “ The stairs are through there.”  

                           *         *         *

    “ I seem to remember Akane’s rescues going much smoother.” Nabiki said to 
herself as she examined her surroundings for some avenue of escape. 
    She was no longer hanging in mid-air, Glasnost’s uncle had sat her down on a 
small pile of cushions, then the ice sorcerer had promptly encased the whole 
affair in a sphere of ice. By how little distortion there was of the world 
outside Nabiki guessed that it had to be only a centimeter thick. However, the 
cloudy runes etched into the ice discouraged her from entertaining any ideas of 
bashing her way out of her prison.
    Outside of her sphere Glasnost’s uncle was busy working some sort of ritual 
in her general direction. 
“ Um…Could you go a little slower please?” Nabiki asked. “ I think that Ranma is 
going to be late again.” 
    The sorcerer did not pause in his gesticulations.
“ Can you even hear me?”
“ Quiet!” The word rang in her sphere like a car’s horn blasting. 
“ Yessir.” She squeaked. 




    “ Are you sure he doesn’t know we’re here?” Ranma hissed.
“ Yes, I have an illusion set up so that he thinks we’re still trying to get 
past his first barrier ward.” Glasnost smiled like a wolf. “ Uncle doesn’t know 
how much stronger I grew on my way to Japan.”
    Glasnost finished his gesticulations with a final flourish. The stone wall 
in front of them dissolved into mist, revealing another stairwell. Ranma took 
the lead. 
“ I didn’t just walk and learn Japanese.” Glasnost continued. “ I fought, I 
healed, I crafted, I lived by my skills alone. If he thinks he can harm Nabiki 
while I still live, then I will just have to show him a few of the new things I 
picked up.”
“ You and me both-“ Ranma cut himself off after glancing back to see that the 
blue glow enshrouding Glasnost’s hands had become a flickering blue flame.
“ Quiet, now.” Glasnost signaled for Ranma to slow down. “ After these stairs we 
will reach him. This is an old storage room for arms and armor from the old days 
before gunpowder. It was cleared off all valuables, but there may still be 
swords and spears and such for my uncle to use as airborne weapons.”
“ Thanks for the warning.” Ranma nodded. “ But don’t worry about me. I’m 
expendable, Nabiki’s the only concern here. If it comes to it, leave me behind.”
    There was a moment filled only with the rhythm of their breathing before 
Glasnost replied. “ I understand.”
    In unspoken concord the two slowed their pace down the stairs until their 
breathing drowned out the footfalls on stone. 
    When the stairs ended and the door was before them Ranma looked to his 
companion. He found a steady gaze filled with barely controlled rage.
“ Ready?” Ranma whispered.
“ Not yet.” Glasnost took a deep breath. “ If he has her warded, and not 
mundanely bound I will have to be protected long enough to break the wards. If 
she his only bound by rope or chain then I will face my uncle and you will take 
Nabiki and run. Is that clear?”
    Ranma nodded.
    Glasnost extinguished the blue flames about his hands. Ranma waited in 
darkness for the outline of light around the door to burst open. Instead 
Glasnost eased the door open just enough to permit one person at a time to slide 
through. Glasnost went first. Ranma darted in the moment the door was clear.
    Nabiki was inside some kind of glass sphere a half a dozen meters away. 
Glasnost’s uncle was standing in front of a brazier flame, gesturing and 
dropping reagents into the fire.
“ Distract him.” Glasnost whispered.
    Without more than a nod Ranma sprinted away from their position until he was 
directly behind the sorcerer. To give a battle cry or at least an insult crossed 
Ranma’s mind before he leapt into the air. The rest of his mind nipped that in 
the bud. 
    Ranma landed on the man’s shoulders, placing most of his weight on the right 
one. He felt the socket give before they both slammed into the brazier. 
    Coals burned through his clothes and he could smell burning flesh and hair 
before he had even rolled to his feet. But the sorcerer was already on his feet.
“ Sh-“ Ranma felt the air forced from his lungs in mid-expletive. The stone 
ground off the part of soles of his shoes as he struggled to kept his feet 
through the blast of wind and ice. 
    When the blast ended Ranma watched a very irate man grab his own right arm 
just above the elbow and force it back into socket. 
“ I think I’m officially out of my league.” Ranma said to no one in particular. 
    The sorcerer took the time to pop his knuckles and glare at Ranma.
    Ranma used that time to formulate some loose excuse for a battle plan.
“ Alright,” Ranma thought. “ I’m more or less screwed at long range, but if I 
get too close he might raise that shield again and then I’m screwed. So I have 
to keep myself far away enough to see ranged attacks coming, but close enough to 
attack him before he can react. Well, then again, this room is only –what, about 
twenty meters by forty meters- not really much choice for staying at long range. 
Aww shit, outta time.”
    After cracking his knuckles, the sorcerer gathered those familiar blue 
flames in his hands and threw his hands over his head. 
    Not really wanting to wait until something was already thrown, Ranma flipped 
a coin in his head and dove to the left. A barely visible violet lash tore at 
the side of his leg. Ranma landed, rolled, and returned to a fighting stance. 
His leg did not hurt though he had felt an impact, and that was never good.
    Never taking his eyes off of the sorcerer Ranma risked a quick pat of his 
leg. He didn’t have to look down at his hand to know what the warm wetness on 
his fingers was. At least he didn’t feel any holes or bone. That was good.
    The sorcerer did not laugh in triumph, nor did he smile. He just rallied for 
a second attack. This time Ranma knew what to expect. He slid to the side and 
kept his feet on the ground, watching the lash snap through the space he had 
occupied a moment ago. It looked solid, and the air in it’s wake didn’t feel 
cold. So…
    The next lash Ranma didn’t even try to dodge, he kicked out and stomped. 
Solid enough, the lash tugged and writhed under his heel. 
    Now the sorcerer laughed, and jerked it back. Ranma let it snap back. If the 
sorcerer had not put up his arm in time he would have taken the worst of it in 
the face. 
“ Don’t you feel stupid now?” Ranma mocked. “ Like hell I was going to put my 
full weight on that.”
    Even if the words were not, the meaning was quite understood by the 
sorcerer. 
    Ranma was rewarded with an arrow of ice aimed at his right eye. Which he 
managed to doge by a hand span. If he didn’t have time to even talk trash then 
this was going to be a rough battle.
    Ranma started to circle the sorcerer at a sprint. The older man made a curt 
gesture, then he was standing a few centimeters above the floor and rotating to 
match Ranma’s pace.
    About mid way through formulating a clever plan to make that trick backfire 
on his opponent a hedge of ice spears shot from the floor in his path. A quick 
leap only cost him a few gashes instead of impalement.
“ Alright, now I’m annoyed.” Ranma announced and headed for the ceiling in one 
leap.
    Before his feet even touched stone again Ranma was already twisting about to 
line up this second leap. The instant he felt his feet meet the ceiling he leapt 
again, this time almost laterally to the far corner of the room. Then again to 
the joint of a pillar and the ceiling then once more to another corner of the 
room. 
    At the final corner Ranma wedged his feet to the walls and his shoulders to 
the ceiling. It hurt to do so after such speed, but what he had planned should 
hurt that old ice geezer so much more.
    “ Fire and ice.” Ranma mumbled as he gathered felt the warmth between his 
clasped palms. He could beat this guy, he could beat anyone, he would burn this 
man, burn him to ash! “ This is for that whip!”
    The sorcerer had been whirling around, vainly trying to follow Ranma’s 
staccato bursts about the ceiling. It was only by the orange glow did he finally 
see Ranma, just a tenth of a second before the blast was released.
    

    
    Nabiki heard herself cry out in pain an surprise as the whole room was 
suddenly immersed in the flash of an arc light. From inside her sphere she felt 
the shock of an explosion but heard nothing. 
    Then she waited for her eyes to clear. When her surroundings finally faded 
back into view she saw Glasnost still working furiously as if nothing had 
happened. 
    Ranma was everywhere and nowhere. Nabiki could make out a red and black 
streak that alternately bounced off of the magic force sphere around Glasnost’s 
uncle and bounced around the room like a ricocheting bullet. Whirls of wind that 
tore mortar from the walls lashed out from the blur to batter the sorcerer’s 
force sphere. Here and there another orange jet would assault the sphere and 
another brilliant flash would force her to look away for a moment. 
    An odd thought passed through her mind.
“ Ranma never fought like that for Akane.” She heard the words reverberate as if 
spoken by someone else. 
    Glasnost let the sweat drip from his face, his hands whirled and jerked in a 
odd symphony of motion that irritated the now pulsing runes that Nabiki hoped 
were the only source of the sphere around her.
    Here were two young men of power, and they were ready to give up their lives 
to rescue her. One was the teen she had received as a second-hand fiancé from 
her younger sister. The other was a man who had literally walked across the 
world to take her hand in marriage to make her a queen that would save an entire 
kingdom.
    And to think that just a few months ago she was nobody teenager who was 
worried that all the interesting things only happened to Akane.



    Ranma knew that things were not going well. He really didn’t see how they 
could after his first taste of the man’s power at the failed wedding. At least 
this time he really didn’t have to worry about surviving the encounter. A 
honorable death in battle, covered in the glory of his duty to Nabiki. Yeah, 
that was better than wasting away in a hospital from chemo therapy, right?
    His legs burned, his arms bled, and his lungs had finished all the Japanese, 
Mandarin, and English cursing they knew how to scream at him, now they were 
starting on German. They had never gotten that harsh before. He must have burst 
a few vessels a few impacts back.
    The sorcerer looked frustrated. At least that could be counted as progress 
from a certain point of view. However, from a strictly martial perspective it 
was nowhere near good enough. The Russian man was breathing harder now, but 
without any wounds to speak of.
    As Ranma skimmed the ceiling once again, his left shoulder glancing on a 
keystone, he took a risk and glanced over at Glasnost’s progress.
    If the number of runes left glowing were any indication it looked like 
Glasnost was only a few seconds from being done. Which meant it was time for the 
finale. And to think that he had been worried about not surviving long enough to 
pull out the big gun.
    Slowing his pace a bit Ranma tried to look like he was about to collapse, 
quite an easy act. Then he hoped the sorcerer didn’t know that language trick.
“ Hey Prince! Take cover!”



    “ What did he say?” Nabiki asked Glasnost before remembering that he 
couldn’t hear her.
    Glasnost looked around for a moment frantically before shrugging his 
shoulders and hiding behind Nabiki’s prison.
“ What in the world are you doing? Get me out of here!” Nabiki shouted at 
Glasnost, blasting her own hears with echoes. 
    Then she glanced back at Ranma. He was walking. Nabiki turned around fully 
and gaped. 
    Ranma was walking with a slight limp. Slowly he circled the Glasnost’s uncle 
as the sorcerer seemed to be talking to him. For a moment she thought that Ranma 
had surrendered. Then she almost hit herself, this was Ranma, he’d die before he 
would just give up a fight. 
    Ranma closed the distance between himself and his opponent ever so slightly. 
Glasnost’s uncle seemed to be calming down. She guessed that the Russian man now 
felt that he had the victory in his hands. Ranma started talking back, using 
hand gestures to try to convey his own point. Where words did not convey, the 
gestures did well enough. Glasnost’s uncle roared with rage and raised his hands 
for another arcane attack. Ranma raised his fist to the ceiling in response. The 
air seemed to twist and tear like a rag being wrung out to the point of 
destruction. The room before her became a cacophony of wind, ice, and broken 
stone. The hurricane grew in might and tore the scant few crates in the room 
from the ground. Rusted weapons burst from them and joined the chaos. 
    She heard herself scream as stone and blade hailed upon her prison. 



    Ranma felt the blood loosen his grip on the ceiling. One hand gripping a 
raised keystone Ranma waited for the sorcerer to come into the eye of the storm 
looking for him. In the wind and ice his hand screamed under the strain, he 
wished the whiny appendage would shut up.
    A few wisps of ice parting was all the cue Ranma needed. He was springing 
down before the man’s foot had fallen within the eye. The sorcerer must have 
expected a trap. But Ranma’s attack preempted any that he must have had planned. 
Ranma aimed for a two point landing on the man’s hip, but settled for a one 
point on the side of the knee. Bone gave and tendon snapped instantly. Then 
Ranma opened up with an elbow break, followed by a barrage of hand strikes. 
After that it was the debris of the dying hiryu shoten ha that finished the job. 
    Ancient blades crashed and shattered into the walls, stones rumbled to a 
halt and the wind’s roar echoed away. Ranma waited for the sorcerer to get up 
and finish him off. Then Glasnost could finish the sorcerer off. It would be a 
honorable death.
“ Ranma!” Nabiki’s voice called.
“ What?” Ranma glanced back.
    The ice orb was now three quarters sword and spear pin cushion, the last 
quarter was neatly melted away. Nabiki ran toward him, Glasnost at her side.
“ Ranma, ” Glasnost said as they stopped. “ you truly are a warrior of legendary 
quality.”
“ I beat him?” Ranma heard himself ask.
“ Of course you did.” Nabiki smirked. “ It’s what you always do. Now lets go get 
you to a hospital before you bleed all over the castle.” 
“ He couldn’t have gone down that easy.” Ranma turned around to face his 
opponent again, but the sorcerer was not moving at all.
“ I’m afraid you might have killed him.” Glasnost cautiously approached the 
twisted body. 
“ Before I lose my nerve I gotta do this, alright?” Nabiki said.
“ Do what?” Ranma turned back to her. How could it be over already? He was still 
alive! It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
    Nabiki threw her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on his bloodied 
lips. 
“ You saved my life.” Nabiki buried her face in his neck. “ But don’t go and 
ruin my gratitude by saying something like ‘it was nothing’, alright?”
“ Uh, yeah…sure.” 
“ And hug me back.” Nabiki added.
    Ranma took a moment, decided that his left arm was less bloody and hugged 
her to him with it. Damn this was awkward.
“ Uncle Araya will live, I think.” Glasnost announced. “ Let’s get some help 
down here.”
“ Sounds good.” Ranma sighed.
    So much for an honorable death.
“ Come on Ranma,” Nabiki gave his neck a squeeze. “ let’s see about some first 
aid before you collapse.” 
    And now he had a new problem.