……On her belly, she crawls to a slight clearing with a big boulder. Sitting in the shadows, barely visible, is Lozen. Flaming Arrow pauses before drawing her bow, hears the grandfather’s voice, and lets the arrow fly, striking Lozen in the heart.
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A look of shock then a smile of approval crosses Lozen’s face. She lives long enough to whisper, “Go to the cave, little warrior.”
“The weapons you see here have mystical powers, and the use of them is rarely granted. The warrior must be superior in strength of character, chosen by our ancestors, and honored by the tribe from which he comes. I was a wisp of smoke in your vision. I know of your dedication to the quest and your goal. Yes, I know you seek justice for the death of your white family.
Otuma taught you well, for you are more Apache than white. If it were not so, you would not have been granted this unusual quest. The skills you must master require much. They will not be easy. If you fail, you die at my hand. Flaming Arrow, do you understand? I, Lozen, have spoken.” Cat stands in awe as Lozen stops speaking. “Yes, great Lozen,