tore into his neck and a fist rammed into his jaw. Logan fell to the ground, stunned, the Hills spiraling around him. Someone was saying his name, but he could not tell who. It wasn't until soft hands helped him off the ground that Logan stared into Cyrene's deep blue eyes.
'Matthew,' the blonde smiled brightly, 'I didn't think I'd see you again. I tried so hard to think of a way to free you from Farkarrez, then I ran into Mediyan's Guards, and…'
'I know! I know!' Logan interrupted, regaining his senses and his excitement. 'But I did it! I found him! I found the Smythe!' Eagerly, he pulled the blonde into the cavern, a grin drawn across his features. When they entered the stone chamber, Logan could not help but grin wider as the gaunt spellcaster looked up at them. His smile faltered when he noticed the terror in Cyrene's lovely eyes.
'Matthew!' she cried. 'That's not the Smythe! It's Zack-aron!'
•13• Mistakes
'Matthew!' Cyrene cried. 'That's not the Smythe! It's Zackaron!'
Logan's initial reaction was to run… to simply turn about and rush out of the narrow corridor of stone. But the wildness in Zackaron's dark eyes also flared with a power beyond comprehension-a power that had driven even its user insane. How could Logan hope to flee a man who could destroy then recreate him on the spot? Zackaron reigned over nature itself with his madness, and Logan began to understand the abnormal wind of unbalance flowing from the spellcaster's home. The magician had the energies of his world at his fingertips, yet his mind was incapable of using them correctly.
Trying to shrug off the terror Cyrene radiated beside him, Logan faced the gaunt sorcerer. 'I'm sorry,' he apologized. 'I've made a terrible mistake. I didn't mean to give you this egg. I was going to bring you clay.'
Zackaron's eyes expanded in excitement. 'Clay? Clay?' he parroted. 'Excellent! Have you ever built with clay?'
Logan casually replaced the Jewel in his horse's saddlebag and took hold of the reins. 'Actually, I have,' he answered the wizard. 'It's quite good. Especially for making things.'
The lean magic-user nodded his head enthusiastically. 'Yes! Yes! Make things, I do! Make things! But pity! Pity me! So many are wrong! So many mistakes!'
Logan was almost intrigued to stay and listen to the rantings of the wizard. What kind of things did Zackaron attempt to make from clay? the young man wondered. His powers made anything possible, but his mind would cause major drawbacks in any creation. No wonder Zackaron was so opposed to deformity!
The mindless spellcaster stepped toward Logan, and Cyrene stiffened as the dark eyes locked upon her. 'Did you make her?' the sorcerer queried, his eyes aglow with appreciation.
'No, I didn't,' responded Logan, 'but I can get you some clay so you can make something like her.'
Zackaron's face lit up. 'Can you?' he cried, almost childlike. 'Do so! So do!'
Nodding in reply, Logan backed out of the cavern, taking Cyrene and his horse with him. He could still hear Zackaron chortling from inside as he mounted up and pulled Cyrene behind him. Fear had stolen Cyrene's voice from her as Logan started his horse forward, thanking whatever had caused Zackaron to return the Jewel to him.
Darker clouds began to populate the sky as the yellow-and-green horse trekked through the Hills. Logan was slightly unsettled by Cyrene's silence-wishing their reunion could have been a little bit more romantic-but remained quiet himself as his horse rode on. The blonde's arms locked tightly about his waist served to quell some of the desires boiling within, but Logan felt cheated that the girl had not even praised him for his marvelous escapes. She did like him, didn't she? Why wasn't she as giddy over his good fortune as he was? Oh, well, the shock of bumping into a man with enough power to reconstruct the universe and with hardly enough common sense to feed himself might send anybody into a state of silence,
A confident smirk drawn on his face, Logan glanced down at the saddlebag hiding the Jewel. His heart almost leapt into his throat as he saw the golden rays leaking from the leather sack. The persistent mismatchment had gotten so strong it no longer warned him when the Jewel was acting up. It probably would not have triggered any warning in Logan until after the Jewel's glare signaled the danger itself.
'Cyrene,' Logan whispered, 'I think we're in trouble.'
The blonde behind him moved to peer over his shoulder but still said nothing.
'The Jewel's glowing,' he explained, and her arms tightened about his waist. 'It might be about to discharge again.'
Logan gazed up at the darkening clouds apprehensively and a knot formed in his stomach. The increased buzz of disharmony had really torn away his usual defenses, he realized. He had no idea if those black clouds looming above him were natural or unnatural-but the yellowish light seeping from his saddlebags indicated it was the latter.
A stifled shriek ripped through Cyrene's lips, and Logan pulled his eyes away from the clouds. A blur of pink caught his attention, but whatever had made it had swerved out of sight. Logan questioningly glanced over his shoulder at Cyrene, but the blonde still refused to speak. Her eyes were wide, fixed in the direction of the pinkish flash, yet no explanation came from her lips.
There was a hellish screech from the mountains, and a throng of creatures swarmed down the hillsides. Their distorted limbs flailed in the air, and bleary eyes reflected the Jewel's golden glare. Logan was so horrified he accidentally drew in the reins, and the stallion stood where it was while the cluster of monsters rushed closer.
Humanlike in shape, the creatures loped down the sloping hillsides. Gnarled limbs-some too short, others too long-sent dirt spraying into the air, and thick streams of saliva oozed from the contorted mouths and misshapen teeth. One of the beasts scuttling down the mountainside was nothing more than a deformed head perched atop an outstretched hand, while another was the upper torso of a man that gradually turned serpentine. Another monstrosity flailed four arms at the cloudy sky, its many disproportioned fingers clenching into warped fists.
Somewhere, from maybe a million miles away, there was a voice calling to Logan.
'Matthew! Matthew! Get us out of here!'
Fingers shook Logan awake as the perversions of nature neared. Drawing himself away from the terror charging him, Logan blinked his eyes and felt Cyrene's breath upon his neck.
'Matthew!' she screamed. 'Let's go! Please!'
With a silent glimpse back at the nearing deformities, Logan rammed his Nikes into his horse's flanks and bolted forward. Enraged screams pursued the pair, their horse galloping headlong across the mountains. A growl of thunder exploded from the black clouds above as the aureate flame of the Jewel brightened. The Jewel! Logan's mind shouted. Those things sensed the Jewel-like that Demon did! They wanted it!
Cyrene screamed and Logan almost pitched off his horse as the green-and-yellow stallion skidded to a halt, stopping precariously close to a cliff. A sheer drop angled before them, and boulders cracked and fragmented like egg shells lined the bottom. The earthquake must have utterly destroyed this hillside, Logan mused. What must have been a level path around the mountain was now interrupted by a fearful drop of some hundred feet. Frantically, Logan looked right, then left. The right offered a level route yet betrayed an aura of possible rockslides or unexpected drops. The left, however, slanted upward, and Logan knew his horse would be unable to make the climb carrying two riders.
Swiftly, he dismounted and motioned for Cyrene to do the same.
'Take the horse up,' he commanded, withdrawing his sword. 'I'll cover our backs.'
The blonde paused a moment before snatching up the reins and beginning the difficult ascent. Logan trailed, dangerously scaling the mountain backwards as he went. It did not take long before the screeching distortions of men burst into sight, their malformed limbs slashing the mountain air. Cyrene's breathing quickened as fear coursed through her sjim frame, and her climbing became erratic, making her stumble more as she fought the slanting hillside. Like fluid, Cyrene's fear flowed down to Logan, and beads of perspiration dotted his brow as he gazed down at the mockeries below him.
Scuttling like twisted crabs of flesh, the swarm of deformities followed after the couple. Lust burned in their blurry eyes. Perhaps they thought the Jewel would return them to normal, like Logan had tried to persuade
