Logan was greatly relieved when he saw the massive hand clamping a wet stone at the rim of the cliff.
'Give me your other hand,' Moknay called down to the fighter, removing his gloves.
The Murderer clamped the fighter's meaty hand in his and tried to pull him up. The swampy soil forbade traction of any kind, and Moknay himself almost slipped over the edge as he struggled. At last the Murderer found some well-anchored rocks and set himself behind the stones, straining to lift his war-sibling. Blood began to soak through the bandage at his shoulder, and pain etched itself into the lines of Moknay's face.
'Agellic, you're heavy!' he grunted.
'What do you want me to do?' Thromar retorted. 'Lose some weight while I dangle here?'
Moknay turned his pain-ridden face on Logan. 'I need some help!' he called. 'Give me a hand! Careful you don't slip!'
Logan hesitated a moment and turned to the girl behind him. Drenched by the constant downpour, Cyrene's clothing was practically transparent, and her dark blonde hair was a shade of brown as it clung to her scalp. The wet dress and bodice gripped her every curve, and Logan fought back the desire to kick her in the butt. Instead, he handed her the Jewel and went back to Thromar.
Cautiously and strenuously, the pair grappled to pull the Rebel to safety. Twice they almost had him up, but the unde-pendable ground would suddenly reject their footing and send one of them sprawling-and send Thromar dangling. The pair would then try again, both of them suffering-one from a shoulder wound, the other from burned hands.
Blue-white lightning slashed through the tempest as Thromar clawed his way through the mud and reached the path. His stolen uniform was smeared with runny brown muck, and rainwater dribbled down his face and made tiny cascades through his beard. His beady eyes went wide as he struggled and squirmed through the mire to lay on level ground.
'What in Imogen's Blaze is she doing?' he wondered once he was safe.
Logan and Moknay turned to see Cyrene facing the dark forms that rode toward them through the cloudburst. The girl's hand slipped under her clinging dress, but her dagger's sheath was empty. Vengeance burned in her eyes as the Reakthi drew nearer and the blonde peered down at the Jewel in her grasp. Another quarrel of electricity shrieked through the heavens as Cyrene raised the gleaming gem over her head.
Riding a horse taken from one of his men, Vaugen's eyes went wide as he thundered out of the unnatural storm. Groathit reined in beside him, his spiky blue-grey hair seemingly untouched by the rain. The chestplated warriors all brought their mounts to sloppy halts, eyes fixed on the blonde wielding the mystical gem.
Lightning cracked as the Jewel's glare increased.
'You killed my father,' Cyrene snarled through the downpour. 'I'm going to kill you.'
The golden Jewel flared like a miniature sun.
'Cyrene!' Logan yelled. 'Don't!'
A vengeful smile drew across the blonde's lips as the Jewel's flame strengthened and surrounded her. An agonizing shriek suddenly tore through her as the Jewel erupted, its blinding glare intensifying. Soaking-wet clothing instantly cindered, and cosmic fire obscenely caressed the blonde as she dropped to her knees. The foul odor of burning hair wafted across the strong winds as Cyrene collapsed to the muddy ground and lay sizzling in the mire.
Anticipation sparked in the spellcaster's one good eye as Groathit eagerly leapt from his horse and grabbed the fulgu-rant Jewel, ignoring the flickering tongues of fire licking at its side.
'Mine!' he cackled victoriously. 'I have it! It's mine!'
His face streaked with mud and rain, Logan turned mutely on Moknay and Thromar. His companions stared back, Logan's own shock and horror mirrored on their faces. The silver-chestplated Reakthi spellcaster held the incandescent Jewel in his bony hands, and Vaugen was grinning behind him in like triumph.
Thunder shattered the firmament and the entire earth trembled below them. Fearful glances came from both Reakthi and Logan's party. Groathit looked up at the grumbling sky, a frown on his face as he wondered what dared interrupt his success.
Logan caught his breath.
'What is it?' Moknay questioned, his fear of the Jewel glinting in his cold, grey eyes.
'The Wheel,' the young man replied. 'Cyrene's triggered off another discharge. I sensed an unbalance in the Jewel when I used it myself. Cyrene's managed to set it off. I think the Wheel might very well be tipping over on its side.'
The marshy ground shifted again beneath their feet, and a blazing white bolt of electricity screeched through the darkness. Moknay fought back his misgivings concerning magic as the gleam of the Jewel did not die down but increased.
'Groathit!' Vaugen barked. 'What's going on?'
'The Jewel has been leaking energy,' the wizard snorted back. 'All I need is a little time and I can get the powers under my control.'
Marvelous, Logan grumbled to himself. The only man on hand who can halt the Jewel is the Reakthi spellcaster, but they can't let him keep it! And yet, if they attempt to steal it back, the Wheel could tip on its side and then there would be no reversing it!
'Friend-Logan!' bellowed Thromar. 'What can we do?'
'I don't know,' the young man truthfully answered. 'We're stuck between a rock and a hard place!'
'Looks more like a lot of mud and a mountainside,' the fighter mumbled in confusion.
Groathit's thin lips began to utter some inaudible incantation, but the Jewel persisted in flaring brilliantly. Wailing bolts of lightning arced across the sky more frequently as more and more energy seeped free of its prison and wreaked havoc with the natural Balance. 'There will be nothing to stabilize the forces of the Wheel and act as equilibrant!' Barthol had informed them. 'The Wheel will have no means to achieve equilibrium, and it will tilt until it entirely flips over and destroys us all!'
The ground bucked below their feet as streams of golden force ejected from the Jewel.
The mountaintop across from their path exploded, hurling rubble and silt through the clouds. A figure wearing a nimbus of unbelievable energy stood atop the destroyed peak, arms outstretched in a godlike gesture. Dark hair streaked with grey billowed in the gale, and intense fury boiled in the dark eyes.
'You have something that belongs to me!' Zackaron boomed, the aura of power crackling to accent his charge. 'I have come to take back what is mine!'
His sunken features highlighted by the Jewel, Groathit jerked his head up to glare at the wrathful wizard. His talonlike hands closed in about the Jewel and his eye glittered his unspoken refusal.
The Hills groaned as the earth heaved once more.
'Friend,' Moknay whispered into Logan's ear, 'I was told once some very good advice which I think we all should heed: 'Never stand between dueling spellcasters.''
The rain fell harder.
•15• Tilting
The Hills were lit by the crackling flame of the Jewel and the sporadic bursts of lightning from above. Logan stared in awe as a third source of illumination walked upon the screaming winds and placed his foot in the rain- bespattered ground of their path. The wildness seemed burned from Zackaron's eyes by the very shield of power roaring about him, but it had been replaced by a boiling anger that made Logan cringe as the sorcerer neared. This one time, the young man was glad someone had stolen the Jewel from him.
'You have something that is mine, Reakthi,' the dark-eyed spellcaster snarled. 'Return it at once.'
Groathit cocked his head to one side, and his bad eye glinted dully in Zackaron's fire. 'It is mine now, madman!' he spat back. 'I have labored too long for this trinket to suddenly hand it over to you!'
The nimbus of magical force surrounding Zackaron sparkled, and furious pinpricks of energy popped in the dark air. 'Are you challenging me?' he asked, a hideously confident smirk on his face.
Groathit's fingers tightened about the Jewel.
'Do you know who you are dealing with, Reakthi?' Zackaron asked, taking a bold step forward. 'I am
