'Friend-Logan is a spellcaster, Murderer,' Thromar roared happily. 'I do wish he'd take his eye out for you! It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen!'
'I'm no spellcaster,' Logan answered, grinning to himself. 'I just happen to have my own sources of information.'
A frown caused Moknay's mustache to droop. 'That's another thing,' he muttered to everyone but directed it at Thromar. 'Groathit is still out one pawn. Whatever he has trailing us now might catch up with us on the road.'
'Not if I'm on Smeea!' Thromar declared. 'Nothing can catch Smeea and me if we're on the path! We'll ride like the very winds themselves! If we're in the bloody forest, even Smeea can't maneuver through all those damn branches and brambles!'
Druid Launce could, the guilt inside Logan whispered; and the young man flinched in quiet pain at the thought.
'Didn't you say Vaugen may still be riding after you?' Cyrene questioned, brushing at her long, dark blonde hair.
Moknay nodded, looking out toward the Hills.
'Then wouldn't it be better to take the forest route?' continued Cyrene. 'Confuse him even more?'
Logan caught an odd flicker passing through Cyrene's blue eyes. The girl was up to something, his paranoia advised him. She sounded so determined to run headlong into the Imperator himself; why was she suggesting a route that would cause Vaugen to lose them?
'I don't think Vaugen will stay on the path,' Moknay said, and Logan noticed the brief frown that crossed Cyrene's full lips. 'The roads do offer the safety of not running into him!' The grey eyes flashed to Logan. 'And if Logan thinks Pembroke is far behind us, maybe the path is our best bet. I'm still a little uneasy about Groathit's new pawn-if he's got one.'
Thromar threw up his brawny arms in victory. 'We did it, friend-Logan!' he cheered. 'We stay on the road!'
Logan, however, was not listening to the bearded fighter. The young man's eyes were trained on Cyrene as she stalked away from the group, mumbling under her breath. She deliberately wanted to take the forest route so that it would slow them down, Logan realized. That way Vaugen would have a better chance of catching up to them. Stupid female!
Cyrene felt Logan's gaze and turned about. The anger that was ablaze in her eyes died abruptly and a strange, oddly friendly emotion took its place. A beautiful smile came to her lips before she swung away and continued for her horse.
Was she flirting with me? Logan wondered, and a little chill of excitement made its way into his sweat pants.
The sensation of mismatchment pounced like a lion, devouring the ideas that formed in Logan's mind. As he reacted, the anger that churned inside him also sprang forth, grasping the opposing feeling in a deathlock. The tingle of disharmony slipped the grip and formulated an attack of its own, and Logan was haplessly caught in the middle.
'Friend-Logan!' Thromar shouted in awe. 'Your arm! What's happening to your arm?'
Forcing himself free of the battling sensations, Logan gave his arms a curious glance. His blue eyes enlarged when he saw the bloody glare sprouting from his left forearm near his sword wound. Instant panic consumed him as he feared Groathit was magically draining him of his blood, but then he noticed the tiny silver flecks swirling amongst the crimson, and he pulled back his sleeve.
The blank face of his digital watch was blazing like a miniature bonfire. Red-and-silver light fairly burst from his wrist, slicing into the young man's eyes like the glare of the Jewel the night before. Shaking his head free of the light, the anger and displacement retreated, and his watch dimmed.
The others were staring at Logan dumbly.
'By Brolark,' breathed Thromar, 'what an array of tricks you have.'
The rage Logan thought was gone returned. 'I am not a spellcaster!' he roared. 'If I was a goddamn spellcaster, I wouldn't be here! I wouldn't have this goddamn Jewel leaking energy! I'd have left the very morning I arrived here!'
'We have our problems, friend,' Moknay replied, 'but Sparrill's not all that bad. Since when was your world a paradise of some sort?'
'It isn't!' thundered Logan. 'It's a rat-hole! But at least it's my world! Here there's nothing but confusion for me, and people dying every time they lend a hand! Even my world wasn't like that!'
The grimness and pessimism went out of the Murderer's eyes. 'Friend, every world has its problems, but every world has its people. I told you before the people have kept the Reakthi out, not the Guards. That's the way we are here. We will gladly help anyone who opposes the invaders… even if it means laying down our lives. But we're not fools. We will try every conceivable way to escape with everyone's life intact. And we almost did that when Vaugen and his bastards attacked.'
'Almost?' Logan moaned. 'Almost isn't good enough! Almost cost Druid Launce his life!'
'Something that happened because he wanted to save us, the Jewel, and Munuc's people from the Reakthi,' Thromar put in. 'Friend-Logan, you must not blame yourself. Are the people in your world so heroic that no one dies in combat?'
A disgusting realization came to the young man. 'No,' he sighed, 'no one comes to your aid when you're in 'combat.' We all just stand around and wait for someone else to do the helping.'
Logan's three companions were still until Moknay clamped a gloved hand upon the young man's shoulder. 'I would never have guessed you came from such a world,' he said. 'Since I have known you, never once have you let someone else act for you. It's unfortunate you want to return so badly, because Moknay the Murderer is proud to call you friend.'
A faint smile formed on Logan's lips as he glanced from Thromar to Moknay to Cyrene. Both fighter and Murderer were beaming like proud fathers, and Cyrene was also watching Logan with respect in her eyes. And Logan could tell that-unlike in his world-these people said and meant what their hearts felt.
And Logan's desire to return home lessened just slightly.
There was an opaque gleam in the eye like the glitter of a pearl as Spellcaster Groathit stalked out of the small town of Plestenah and pushed his way through the forest. Horses snorted nervously as the sorcerer rejoined the throng of Reakthi that awaited him in the brush.
Grey eyes as cold as ice trained upon the spellcaster.
'Well?' sneered Vaugen.
'Reakmor Farkarrez did indeed catch up with them in town, and not one Sparrillian even suspected his men as being Reakthi,' the wizard reported. 'They engaged and battled the one called Logan and some blonde and all four men were slain. Unfortunately, if Farkarrez had used his mind, he could have easily taken the Jewel since the fools had left it in the horse's saddlebag when they entered the hostel where they were confronted.'
'Farkarrez was a good man,' Vaugen replied calmly. 'I am surprised he did not think to search, or, perhaps, even slay their mounts. But we now know that-without chestplates-perhaps we can once again attempt Agasilaus's ploy and conquer Sparrill as we conquered Denzil.'
'We have not conquered Denzil,' Groathit mentioned, mounting his horse.
The Imperator flashed him a vile gaze. 'One town does not make the whole of a land!' he snapped.
'No, but it is almost humorous to think that Vaugen has been unable to conquer one lone city,' the wizard mocked.
Rage steamed within the armored chest of the Imperator, and blood rushed to his face, making his scars almost brighten. 'You toy dangerously with my anger, spellcaster,' he warned. 'True, we have been unable to conquer Eadarus, but we have now learned that we can encircle these idiots if we dispose of our armor and keep our movements unseen. Then even Eadarus will be unable to hold off the Reakthi from all sides!' The grey eyes blazed angrily. 'It is odd you are so quick to criticize me when the means of our ultimate conquest is wandering around out there with the Jewel of Equilibrant in his saddlebags!, Why aren't you doing something about detaining them? I even risked and lost one of my best Reakmors to hinder them.'
Groathit snorted contemptuously as the horses skirted the town. ' 'Best Reakmor'!' he spat. 'Farkarrez is a sadist!'
