For a long moment, nothing happened. Then Wingover looked around and drew a sharp breath. Nearby, Jilian had begun to glow – a rosy pink light emanated from her, haloed about her. And beyond, the others glowed, too.

Even the horse had a fine gray patina that reflected off the walls of the gully. The man looked at his own hands. He, too, was shining – a distinct yellow-gold glow. Even the wizard was lit… had a glow on, Wingover corrected. Glenshadow shone a deep ruby-red, as though light came from within him and carried the color of his blood.

Down the gully, guttural voices were raised, and something small and bright green came racing toward them from that direction. 'You call this invisible?" The kender's exasperated cry echoed ahead of him. He skidded to a stop. "Wow! You look like lanterns with legs!" he said, pointing back down the gully. "They'll be here in a minute. They're yours to play with.

I'll go see if I can find some others."

Like a small, green torch, Chess bounded to the wall of the gully, up it to the top, and away across open land. Shouts of pursuit came from where he had gone. The sprinkling rain that had started moments before had eased, but now, abruptly, it came again, a soaking curtain of rain with winds behind it. High lightnings danced, and thunder rolled.

"Now that's more like it," Wingover snapped at the wizard. "Come on, we have to get out of this gully. Here, I'll take the horse. Where's Chane?

Chane?" "I'm right here beside you," the dwarf said. "Go on, Jilian. I'm right behind you."

Of them all, only Chane was not aglow. He had never released his grip on

Spellbinder.

The rain came harder, a blinding, driving downpour that began to fill the gully as they climbed to its high bank. Through the noise of the storm, Chane and the others heard the voices of goblins coming up the cut, then the sounds of splashing in water and mud. Clouds had rolled in above the lingering smoke, hiding the dim moons. The rain doused the goblins' fires. Within moments, the only light in the valley was the bright glows from the heroes themselves.

"I wish you'd done the second spell first and just skipped the first one," Wingover told the wizard.

"My spell recoiled," Glenshadow said. "Spellbinder is too powerful."

"I mean the rain," the man said, hurrying them along.

"If we can get a little distance, the downpour might help US.

"I didn't bring the rain," Glenshadow admitted.

"You mean it just happened?" Chane Feldstone growled, a shadow among glowing people. "I don't believe it."

Glenshadow shook his head. "No, it didn't just happen. It's magic… but not mine."

"There are goblins coming from both directions in that cut." Wingover pointed back. 'When they meet, they're going to come out. Even in this rain, they'll see us, the way we're shining. Come on, we'd better run for it." He lifted Geekay's reins, turned to run, and stopped. He listened. "I hear something," he said.

The rest turned, listening intently. Rain hissed and thunders rolled overhead, and through it came the splashing, shouting menace of goblins converging in the gully. For a moment there was nothing more, then the others heard it.

Below the other sounds, lower-pitched and barely audible, a rumbling grew, coming from their right, from higher ground.

"What is it?" Jilian hissed. "That sound."

Then Wingover knew, and he arched a thoughtful brow. Flash flood. Massed waters filling the lowlands upstream, overtopping the deep gully, rushing down toward the stream somewhere below.

"Floodwaters," he said.

"The goblins in the gully," Jilian added.

"They're wearing armor," Chane concluded.

Wingover dropped his reins and ran back toward the gully. He heard the others coming behind him. By the light of his own glow he saw the gully's rim, saw heads coming up over it, and saw a pair of hasty bolts flick past as he halted, just a few yards from the edge. A flung stone toppled a goblin backward into the dark cut he had just left. The rumble had become a roar, and was coming closer.

Wingover felt a bronze bolt tear at his shield, ducked a second missile, and howled a chilling war cry as he charged down on the shadowy figures coming over the edge. His sword, glowing with golden light, traced rapid patterns up and down and around, clattering against armor and blades, darkening itself with goblin blood.

Two creatures fell before Wingover, and four more took their places, coming up from the roaring, waterfilled gully. He fended the strokes of two with his blade, took another cut on his shield, and saw the dark, furred shape of Chane Feldstone as the dwarf's hammer pierced a goblin's helmet.

At Chane's side, Jilian was a rosy blur in the dark, a whirling blade with a spinning top at its axis. The roar from the gully became a crashing, tearing screech of sound, and a wall of spray swept down the draw, sparkling in the light of the glowing fighters as it passed. After the wall of water passed, there seemed to be nothing left to fight.

How many goblins had there been, there in the cut? Wingover wondered silently. There was no way to know. They were gone, drowned and carried away toward the main watercourse.

On the bank, a shadow moved and another, darker shadow sprang toward it.

Chane's hammer went up, and the dwarf rolled another goblin into the torrent. He stood, staggering, and Jilian caught him as he started to fall. The dwarven girl raised her glowing face, wideeyed, and beckoned to

Wingover. He reached the two in two steps and knelt.

Chane was down, his teeth gritted with pain, and by their own light they saw the bronze bolt standing in his shoulder. Jilian reached for it, but a glowing, red hand stopped her.

"Let me," Glenshadow said. "I know what to do."

With Chane's own nickeliron dagger, the wizard cut out the goblin-bolt, then peeled back the dwarf's fur tunic to cut away the rag of linen beneath. He studied the wound. Setting his thumbs at each side of the gash, he squeezed it closed. "Get me a flame," he told Wingover.

The man fumbled in his pouch for his fire-maker, a cunning device obtained from hill dwarves long ago. He fumbled again, then peered into his pouch. "It isn't here," he said.

"Never mind," the wizard said. "Jilian, see how I'm holding the puncture? Can you do that?"

Jilian took Glenshadow's place, and the wizard reached into his own belt-pouch and brought out a small, silver object with a lid. "Phosphors," he said. "It will do as well."

"Phosphors," Wingover muttered, an idea dawning. But there wasn't time to consider it now. Glenshadow smeared a bit of paste from the container over the hole in Chane's shoulder, then took another, darker substance and knelt beside Jilian. "Let go now, and get back," he said.

She withdrew her hands, and Glenshadow touched the second paste to the first with a knife-blade. Suddenly a brilliance flared on the dwarf's shoulder, and Chane moaned.

The light subsided as quickly as it had flared. A puff of white smoke, lifting away to be dispersed by the pounding rain, rose into the air.

"Bandage him," "Wingover said grimly. "We have to move on. It's still a long way across this valley."