All’s Fair in Love and War
By Zakiyah
***
Something has got to be done about those blasted kids!
Venger winged his way homeward after having those obnoxious children foil yet another perfect plan. This is just too humiliating. You’d think that after eliminating all of Dungeonmaster’s other pupils that I’d be able to take on those six brats with no problems.
He swore (for the 67th time that year) that he would see those accursed children punished!
Preoccupied with thoughts of revenge, he absently sent fireball after fireball at the forest below him, watching the little fires with a vague satisfaction. He failed to notice that a large red head had just poked up from between the branches to discover the source of the disturbance—and that this head was soon joined by four smaller ones of various colors.
One of the fireballs smacked the red head square between the eyes.
***
The kids had set out on their next quest, to find the ruins of the Silver City and retrieve the shattered amulet that resided there. In his usual cryptic way, Dungeonmaster had hinted that the amulet, once reassembled, could send them home. Of course, just so they didn’t get their hopes up that this would be an easy task, he’d added, "You will meet a master’s apprentice who will guide your way. But be warned, I fear that one among you will be faced with a terrible choice: between that which they seek, and their heart's secret desire. "
"What?" interrupted Eric with his usual tact. "That’s stupid! We all want to go home, right? What could we possibly desire more?"
There was no answer from Dungeonmaster. There was no Dungeonmaster to answer.
"Awww….he’s gone!" It was still a shock to Bobby that Dungeonmaster could disappear right from under his nose. The others just rolled their eyes and sighed.
"You know what Dungeonmaster means by a terrible choice," Diana said grimly. "Venger will come after us, and, as usual, we’ll have to destroy the thing to keep him from getting it."
"Come on, gang, we have to try anyway," said Hank cheerily. "You never know, this could be our big chance!"
Eric remained unconvinced. "Suuuure it is, Oh Eternal Optimist. That’s what you said when we set out to find Merlin’s Castle….the River that Flows Upwards….Zandora’s Box…..the Heart of the Dragon…." He counted off on his fingers.
"But we did make it home at the river," Bobby pointed out. "We only came back because of you!"
"Ease up, guys, it wasn’t anybody’s fault." Sheila, always the peacemaker, stepped between the Barbarian and the Cavalier before things got messy. "Hank’s right, we’ve got to try!"
And so they walked, and argued, and made up, for the rest of that day, as they had done nearly every day since their arrival. They journeyed through weird mutant landscapes that would have made Dali pause. They journeyed through lovely landscapes where even the Realm’s rather lenient laws of physics did not seem to apply. And they journeyed through landscapes that looked so much like earth that the kids could almost forget they were trapped in a bizarre world of monsters and dragons and evil bat-winged sorcerers who wanted them dead.
Almost.
At one point they heard a loud roar from the direction of a nearby forest, followed by a great disturbance. They dove for cover and watched in amusement as Tiamat, five-headed Queen of Dragons, chased Venger, their one-horned nemesis, across the sky. That was such a familiar sight that they didn’t even bat an eye. They simply waited until the sounds of Tiamat’s roaring and Venger’s curses had faded, then continued on their way.
Around lunchtime, a small herd of jackalopes led them on a merry chase, but reached their burrows before the kids could catch them. Trying Diana’s idea of smoking them out of their homes, they turned to find the cute little critters gathered on a hill nearby (having simply gone out the fire exits), staring pitifully at them with beady tear-drop eyes. Feeling terrible, the kids wandered off to find more berries. Presto later conjured up a couple of pizzas, to the real delight of all- except for Eric, who believed that pineapple and ham was a simply unholy union, and complained bitterly. But they'd long since stopped listening to Eric.
That night they rolled up in Presto’s electric blankets, chatting about everything from Star Wars to Atari 2600 to the various wonders of Earth: the dry beds, undrenched by dew…chocolate, glorious chocolate everywhere…the joys of toilet paper. Presto again tried to conjure up a power plant to heat the blankets, but the hat remained stubborn on this point and spit out a flower plant instead.
They didn't notice the shadowy figure lurking just outside their cheery fire-lit circle. After overhearing enough of their conversation, he silently slipped away and flew off to make his report.
***
Venger was slouched in his favorite dragonbone chair, exhausted. His wings, draped over the back of the chair, were singed and sore from his latest battle with Tiamat. He gazed morosely into a roaring bonfire, imagining with tired satisfaction a large five-headed dragon turning on a spit over the flames. Perhaps, he thought, after a thousand years, I’m getting too old for this. Maybe it’s time to give that blasted Nightmare wings of its own.
He turned his head as Shadowdemon wafted cringingly into the room, and his mood perked up a smidge. Shadowdemon was always fun to torment. "Well…?" he said impatiently.
Venger listened to Shadowdemon’s report with his typical scowl. So that’s what the old man is up to. Venger had tried several times to fight, blast, or trick his way into the ruins to retrieve that amulet, all of which had failed. After the war in which the amulet was shattered, Dungeonmaster had placed a rather annoying spell that kept anyone with evil intentions out. And it had worked quite well over all these centuries, much to Venger’s frustration.
A bold move, he thought. This will surely tip the balance of power. I shall have to see that it tips in my favor. And I shall finally get the revenge on his little pupils that I’ve been waiting for all this time. It will be so easy- I’ll get them to break the spell, and have them find the pieces. Then I shall simply remove it from them and lock them in the ruins.
They’d get out eventually. But by that time he’d have already defeated Dungeonmaster. Then he would use the amulet’s power to blast a certain five-headed menace from the sky! Then he’d come up with the perfect punishment for Dungeonmaster’s little friends….
But what disguise shall I use…?
He settled back, aches forgotten, to plot…
***
The next day, the children resumed their journey. Armed with Dungeonmaster’s prediction that they’d meet a master's apprentice, they were not a bit surprised when they encountered a young man sitting on the road. "Good day, travelers!" he called. "Where are you running off to today, all on your own?"
"We’re gonna find the wuimph ov Milfver Miffie" Bobby blurted as his invisible sister stuck a hand over his mouth. Bobby looked terribly embarrassed.
The stranger, a perfectly ordinary-looking fellow of human ancestry, laughed heartily. "Would you be seeking the Silver City, young man? The little red man told me I might find fellow pilgrims if I waited on this path. When he vanished into thin air, I thought I was losing my mind. But here you are!"
"Hank, he’s seen Dungeonmaster!" whispered Diana. "Do you think he’s the one DM told us about?"
"He does know the way," Sheila whispered back. She didn't add the other thing she was thinking, which was that this stranger was rather cute.
"I am Emmit," the friendly stranger continued affably, paying no mind to the whispering. "I am an apprentice of Garlimond the Wise. My master sends all his apprentices on this journey- a test to see who can break the spell guarding the ruins, you see. So far all have failed." He gave a cocky smile. "I don’t intend to. And who might you be, young ones?"
Hank was immediately suspicious, of course. In this place, nobody was ever what they seemed—especially when they were predicted by Dungeonmaster. This fellow fairly radiated good will and affability and a little bit of arrogance common in magic users- to Hank, it seemed he might be laying it on a little thick. But others soon took a liking to the stranger, especially Presto, who kept pestering the magician’s apprentice about learning new tricks, and Sheila, who kept tossing looks at the stranger that made something in Hank squirm with annoyance. But, as Diana seemed unconcerned, and Bobby seemed unconcerned (Hank had stopped listening to Eric), Hank tossed off his concern to his healthy paranoia of everyone and everything Realmish and welcomed the stranger to accompany them.
Only Uni seemed to object to the stranger's presence. She trotted along behind them, sniffing the stranger suspiciously, then started bleating, "Meeeener, Meeeenerrr!! Nyt’s Meeener, nyoo nyummies!"
But then, nobody really listened to Uni, either.
***
They'd stopped for a break, to have a rest and a meal and perhaps a swim in the lovely river meandering along beside the path. Presto was assigned the usual task of providing lunch, much to his chagrin. This was a daily ritual, and there was always the possibility that he'd produce something edible. Hank and Eric, meanwhile, quietly began preparing fishing rods, having a more realistic view of their Magician's chances. Sheila, unusually quiet, was hanging around Presto, stealing more than a few glances at the stranger.
Patience was not one of Venger’s strong points. His master had told him as much, all those years ago. "The true path to knowledge is long and arduous. It requires the deepest commitment and patience…." Venger’s disguised face twisted into a sneer as he remembered what he’d learned, on his own, during his long, long apprenticeship. There were other roads to knowledge, much easier, much quicker, and much more…rewarding. And Dungeonmaster had never taken on any other apprentices.
Until now.
And if that blundering wizard asks me one more question, he thought as Presto pulled off his hat and started whispering into it (giving him sidelong glances as if seeking approval), I’ll make him eat that hat!
Presto gave a yelp and dropped his hat as it belched a flock of ravens. "Opps…." he said faintly, embarrassed. Leaning down to retrieve his had, he sighed and told Venger, "I guess it's fish for lunch, then…" Then he had to chase one bold bird, who had seized the opportunity to grab the hat and make off with it. The others laughed at Eric’s snide remark, and charged off to help Presto catch his wayward weapon.
Venger seized the opportunity to ditch the kids for a moment and go over his plan. He concentrated briefly, his magic gathering invisibly around the group of children who had cornered the raven in a tree. The bird shrieked jeers and hopped about, terribly pleased with itself, and Venger mentally commanded it to keep distracting the kids while he enchanted them.
The shards they all sought were powerful, as they represented pure emotions. The children would not be able to handle their power without protection- should one of them touch the shard hatred, they would turn on the next person they saw. Should one of them touch greed, they would rival Venger himself in their attempts to possess their friends' weapons of power, or whatever else they desired. While it would be amusing to watch them destroy each other, it would be much more effective if they never even knew what kind of power they held.
A sudden thought struck him. Why would Dungeonmaster have risked the children if …and what did he tell them…?
Venger suffered a brief moment of doubt- Dungeonmaster had guessed his plans. Dungeonmaster knew. He always knew. It was enough to drive anyone mad!
Continue with the plan, he ordered himself. He cannot have predicted everything. Anwyay, his little brats suspect nothing. Only the bleating unicorn has noticed anything amis. His spell went off silently and invisibly, though the kids around the tree stopped what they were doing and looked a little confused. The raven flew off, dropping the hat onto Uni's head. He watched as they laughed about it, and smiled an evil inward smile. The fools!
There, it is done. Only one person left to protect- myself!
"Whatcha doing, Emmit?" Venger then saw with a start that the thief was standing beside him, watching him curiously.
"Practicing," he replied curtly, wondering furiously whether she’d been within range of his spell. Had she been there, by the tree? No…now he could sense she was unprotected. He cursed silently. He'd have to work it again, just to be sure. "You should not distract a wizard while he is practicing, Thief," he added sternly.
"It's Sheila," she said, with a smile, blushing. "Sorry. Are you sure you can’t give poor Presto any pointers?" she said teasingly, with only a hint of wistfulness. "It would be nice if his hat worked even three percent of the time…I know, I know, you made that vow, not to reveal any magical secrets. And you’ve been really good about keeping it. You must be awfully devoted to your master. Who was he, again? Gargamel? Does Venger know about him? Aren’t you afraid that Venger will try to defeat him, like Kelek?" Her words tumbled over each other in their haste, as if talking fast would cover her nervousness.
Why should she be nervous? Is she on to me? he thought with a jolt of anxiety… then, doesn't she ever shut up? "Garlimond, the Wise, has kept himself hidden," he replied shortly. "Those who openly oppose Venger inevitably die horribly," he added with an inward smirk.
"Yeah, yeah, he's not THAT tough," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Still, I wish we could’ve. Kept ourselves hidden, I mean. But no, we’re Dungeonmaster’s champions," she said gaily, again with that hint of wistfulness. "Battling evil and saving the world and all that stuff. But as soon as we find that broken whatzit, we’re going home. Finally!"
We'll just see about that, he vowed. But his interest was piqued. "Will you take the weapons with you?"
She looked troubled. "I don’t know. I kinda hoped Dungeonmaster would show up to claim them when we leave. But every other time we’ve found a portal, he never did. And Eric said we had to leave them here, along with Uni, back when he got to be Dungeonmaster. Did you know that? Eric got to be Dungeonmaster for a day! Who would’ve guessed he’d actually be good at it? And even though…."
When I finally get that amulet reassembled, he thought, I’m going to steal her voice and keep it locked in a seashell!
"…and the minute we get the amulet," she continued prattling, oblivious to his deepening scowl, "you know that Venger will be breathing down our necks to get his nasty blue hands on it. And of course, Dungeonmaster disappeared before we could ask him how to actually use it! But maybe you know how!" she said thoughtfully.
Venger smiled tolerantly. "I think I could learn," he said. "Then I could send you home myself! And with the amulet I’d have enough power to keep Venger from getting the weapons long enough to return them to Dungeonmaster."
The thief’s face lit up with delight. "What a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug, then, catching herself, blushed furiously and jumped back. "Um, anwyay, I'll go see if they've caught anything yet! Go ahead with your practicing, I won't distract you anymore!"
Venger watched her run off, wondering if he’d kept the surprise and revulsion off his face. He forced a chuckle, thinking of what her face would look like when he revealed himself as her Arch Enemy. Opening a portal wasn't a bad idea! Once I get that amulet, I’ll do better than simply punish them- I’ll send them away for good!! They will turn over their weapons and leave my Realm without ever knowing the truth! Won’t Dungeonmaster be surprised when I have his precious amulet, and the weapons, and his little champions are nowhere to be found?
He paused, and his smile grew even crueler. I’ll send them out of this world…but not necessarily home…
He turned, head full of all the delightful places he could send them, and rejoined the companions. He even conjured lunch for them, now more than ever eager to get on with the quest.
***
A few hours later, six children, a baby unicorn, and an evil mage in disguise stared in amazement at the Silver City.
The city was huge, with beautiful white pillars and rainbow-flecked stones. Unfortunately the once proud tall towers were lying wrecked, stone archways had collapsed, the silver ornamentation was bent and tarnished. The only part of the city still intact was the lovely stone wall surrounding it, and the huge, highly polished silver gates spelled tightly shut.
"How are we gonna get inside?" asked Eric.
Bobby sized up the gates. "No problem," he said, hefting his club with a look of gleeful anticipation.
"Baaaaa!" Uni bleated with encouragement.
"It will require all of your weapons together," Venger interrupted before the Barbarian made mincemeat of the silver filigree. "And clear your thoughts of avarice or evil- only those of good intentions can break this spell."
The kids rolled their eyes. They were the Six Young Ones, Pure of Heart, after all. "No problem," Hank replied, and the kids went through their normal routine of gathering weapon-power. Venger watched in fascination as Hank bounced an arrow off Eric’s sheild, which Diana tossed to Sheila, who covered it with the cloak and waved it to Presto, whose hat spit it at Bobby, who batted it at the silver gates. There was a soft fffft! as centuries of protective magic flickered and died.
The spell broken, the gates swung open with a sound like nails on a blackboard. Silence surrounded the first living creatures to enter the city for hundreds of years.
"So what happened here?" Presto asked finally, as the gang began to explore.
"A group of maji believed that if they could learn to trap wicked emotion, they could purge the Realm of evil," Venger explained. "They forged an amulet of purest silver, with purest intentions--"
"But, wouldn’t that be a good thing?" interrupted Diana.
"But not all races wished to give up their 'lesser' emotions," Venger replied. "Not all races believed that pure reason was the way to live. The Maji destroyed many who would not submit to their rule. Such was their quest for logic and perfection, that they could allow no other manner of living. The races fought back, and finally the amulet was shattered. For what is reason without the balance of compassion?"
"The Vulcans take on the Realm," Presto murmured, and the others broke into laughter.
Venger had little idea what this meant, but felt a little miffed that they didn't seem to take him too seriously. "The amulet contained the trapped emotions of an entire race," he intoned warningly. "Now it is shattered, and each piece will trigger a different one- pain, fear, anger, hatred. Be mindful of this, and do not hold them for long." Even though the spell he'd cast, some residual effect might seep through. He didn't want them at each others' throats before the big finale, after all! "The final battle occurred there, in the center of the city. Bring the shards you find to me. They are small, silver, inscribed with runes…."
Shrugging, the kids followed his lead and began to fan out, searching…
***
Everything was going perfectly. The Barbarian had found greed, and the Cavalier had just stumbled upon contentment. And his protective charm was working perfectly. For once, it looked like his plan would succeed! A glint in the rubble caught his eye. Yes! Another!
He knelt and picked it up. A gentle, warm, fuzzy feeling filled him from head to toes. What was going on…? He mumbled a curse when he realized that he’d never gotten around to putting the charm on himself, after the thief had distracted him. He’d been too busy thinking about those stupid weapons….
Don’t panic…turn it over and see what this feeling represents…
Sheila, who had been lurking nearby, heard Emmit let out a stream of obscenities that made her ears burn. Curious, she slipped up her hood and went to investigate.
Venger did not panic. He’d not gotten through a thousand years by losing his head over surprises and setbacks. He simply closed his eyes and conjured a mirror. This spell will target the next person I see…I shall simply ensure that it is myself.
He positioned the mirror carefully. Eyes still closed, he cast about himself magically for the presence of another person. Nobody was around…he sensed that the unicorn was watching him suspiciously from a long way off, but the others were intent in their search.
He opened his eyes—
–and saw a cute freckled face materialize behind him, peering inquisitively over his shoulder and meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Whatcha doing, Emmit?"
***
"HANK!!! BOBBBYYYYYYY!!!!!!"
The others had their weapons out in a flash. Sheila was nowhere to be seen, but her frantic voice continued screaming names. It was fairly obvious why—the frightening figure of Venger had unexpectedly exploded up out of the kneeling figure of Emmit and had started blasting the ruins to bits in his attempt to locate Sheila.
A brief , furious melee ensued in the ruins, as kids, suddenly dangerous and bristling with weapons, converged on him and defended their Thief. Hank’s arrows at last sent the fuming sorcerer stumbling into an archway, and Bobby’s club caused an earthquake that dislodged a huge boulder. The boulder toppled and dropped neatly right onto Venger’s horned helm with a satisfying crunch! When they went to investigate, Venger had disappeared.
"Just as well…that could’ve been pretty messy," said Hank.
"I got him! Yes!!!" Bobby held his club over his shoulder and struck a tough-guy pose. "Nobody messes with my sister!"
"Speaking of your sister, Conan the Mini," Eric said sarcastically, "Where has the Invisible Woman run off to?"
It took ten minutes of coaxing before they convinced Sheila to de-cloak. Even then, she just knelt there, shaking, hugging Uni until the little unicorn bleated plaintively for air. "Gee, sis," Bobby said finally, prying the unhappy unicorn free of his sister’s grip. "What did you do to make him so mad?"
"I didn’t do anything! I heard him get mad about something, and saw him looking into some kinda mirror!" Sheila stood on wobbly legs and grabbed Hank’s arm for support. "Oh, Hank, it was Venger all along! I actually…hugged him!" She buried her face in his shoulder, mortified.
"You what?" Hank asked, his voice surprised but carefully neutral.
"I can't believe I didn't know it was him!" she wailed, her voice muffled.
"She thought he was cute," Eric supplied helpfully.
"Well, he was kinda cute," Diana said, for the sole purpose of trying to make Sheila feel better. "It was a good disguise. We were all fooled, right?"
"I knew it all along," said Eric, predictably.
Unheeded, Uni sighed and looked heavenward with a look of resigned patience.
"So now what are we going to do? Venger took one of the pieces!" Presto pointed out.
"Maybe Dungeonmaster will tell us what to do," Hank said, trying to restore some optimism.
"And maybe we’ll all sprout wings so we can fly home," Eric snapped. "Since when did that little drip ever just tell us anything?"
"I guess we’d better keep looking for the other pieces." Hank tried to tactfully peel Sheila off his arm and restore circulation. He gave up, resigned himself to having Sheila clinging to him for the rest of the day, and ordered the gang to continue the search.
Uni bleated, trying to catch their attention. She was pawing at the ground, pointing at the shard that Venger had dropped.
***
Even Venger’s tolerant Nightmare, which had withstood being alternately burned/frozen/electrocuted by flying dragons and vaporized by various explosions with nary a squeal of complaint, vanished quickly after dropping Venger back off at his fortress. For not only was Venger in a particularly foul mood, he now had a raging headache.
He cursed the Barbarian, the Barbarian’s club and the club’s maker, the Barbarian’s parents and their uncertain lineage, the Barbarian’s birthworld, and the blasted portal that had brought him here in the first place. His curses became a steady chant under his breath as he stomped painfully down the hall, leaving wondering orcs and goblins cowering in his wake.
He vanished into his chambers, slamming the door. Venger’s servants didn’t even bat an eye as a huge crash of thunder rocked the castle. They did cower, however, at the roar of frustration that followed it.
"SHADOWDEMON!" he called finally, then winced, holding his head.
"I am here, Master!" Shadowdemon had to hold his breath and bite his nonexistent tongue to hold back an unseemly giggle. Luckily he didn’t have a mouth, or Venger would’ve seen the barely suppressed smirk on his face.
"I want you to find the children. Find the shard of hatred and bring it to me."
"But—"
"NOW!"
Shadowdemon had never, ever finished a protest. He sailed rapidly out of the dark fortress on his mission, wondering how he would determine which shard was which. He wasn't about to go back and ask Venger, not now. Only when he was far out of sight of the castle did the malicious giggle escape him.
Venger continued to pace and curse. Preoccupied with this latest catastrophe, he hadn’t yet realized that his single horn was broken and dangling in a ridiculous fashion as he walked. And he was covered with the soot of the failed spell, the one that had not succeeded in banishing his curse. Smoke curled from his singed wings as he paced. He couldn't believe it!! He’d forgotten to protect himself because he'd been distracted by thoughts of weapons and amulets and revenge!! What a stupid mistake! It was unworthy of him, unworthy of even an apprentice! Hadn’t Dungeonmaster warned him about impatience? This was so humiliating!!! Everything was ruined! And now, he, Venger, was stuck with this curse!
Then, with typical Venger-logic, he switched the blame to the least deserving person.
The thief.
The distracting, curious, chattering, vanishing, freckle-faced, red-headed, obnoxious little thief!! It was all HER fault!
Venger let out another roar of rage, then slammed a hand to his aching head. He almost used magic to drive the headache away…but no, then he’d have to deal with the other problem. Better to deal with the pain!
***
The kids had never seen Dungeonmaster quite so speechless before. Obviously he’d foreseen a different outcome. They got a twisted kind of pleasure from seeing the confounded look on his face…
…that is, until he told them which piece was missing.
Then there was dead silence.
"Venger’s in love?....with my sister??!!" Bobby repeated incredulously.
Sheila made a little strangled sound.
Eric was the first to recover. "There ya go! You were just saying the other day that you’d never met anyone special here!"
Diana started laughing, and mimed bringing a date home to the parents. "Hey, ma! I’ve met this new guy….no, he’s not handsome, but he does have an impressive wingspan!"
Sheila turned various colors but bore their taunts well…until Eric and Bobby started chanting, "Sheila and Venger, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Then she tipped up the hood and vanished, appealing desperately to Hank to make them shut up.
"This is no laughing matter, my pupils," Dungeonmaster said gravely.
"Sure it is! This is the funniest thing to happen yet!" Presto was holding his side and stomping the ground with mirth. "YES!! Venger in love, the ultimate revenge!!"
"Come on, guys!" Sheila’s voice pleaded desperately. "Don’t you remember that he was trying to kill me a few hours ago? This is serious!!"
"So what’s your point, Sheila? Venger’s always trying to kill us!" Diana was grinning ear-to-ear. There were giggles from all around.
"Sheila is right, my pupils. You are all in grave danger." That sobered them quickly. It was always serious when Dungeonmaster used their real names.
"So what else is new?" said Eric with a shrug. "So is it time for a new riddle, Your Tinyness?"
"Save it, Eric," Hank said, glaring at him. "Will the amulet work without the missing piece, Dungeonmaster?"
"Alas, no, Ranger. As in life, the amulet must be in balance to have its power. Hatred must be tempered by love. Reason must be tempered by compassion. Neither can exist without the other, just as good cannot exist…without evil." He looked at the ruined city around them. "That is the sad lesson to be learned in these ruins."
"So what does that have to do with anything?" asked Bobby. "All we’ve gotta do is get the last piece, and BANG! We’re home!"
"Myeeaaaaa!" agreed Uni enthusiastically. (Dungeonmaster tried not to look annoyed as the kids promptly ignored the moral of his story.)
"Do you think Venger’s just going to give it to us, Barbarian?" asked Eric sarcastically.
"Why not?" asked Bobby innocently. "He loves Sheila now! Maybe she can convince him!"
They all looked at the air where she’d been standing. "Ooooooh, no. Don’t even think about it!! I ain’t going NEAR him!! Dungeonmaster, what’s he going to do? Will he come after us again? What’s going to happen?"
Dungeonmaster’s reply was the last thing they had ever expected to hear from him. "I don’t know," he said.
***
Venger began growing impatient for Shadowdemon's return, and growled at this latest symptom gnawing away at his careful control. He had admired the maji, back in their day. He had followed their teachings, in fact. He had carefully hidden his heart away in the black core of his being, and forgotten it. Yes, he could still feel- he had a deep abiding anger for the Dungeonmaster, and the Young Ones were a nagging thorn in his side. He feared Tiamat. He felt satisfaction at the accomplishment of goals, and dread of his master, the Nameless One. But all of these only went so deep. They stopped short of the point where they might affect his actions. He was cruel and coldly rational, each move carefully thought out, emotion taking no part in his decisions.
Until now.
I must get the remaining pieces! But this curse…I cannot stop thinking of her. I cannot focus on anything!
He loved her, true. But love had no part of Venger's life. He was a creature of destruction, of coldness. There was no way one such as he could express love, and the spell had awakened another suppressed twin. Hatred.
Enough! I cannot break the curse, and I cannot ignore it. I must punish that thief for giving me this weakness. What is the worst thing I could do to her? That’s easy…what does she fear the most?
A truly nasty idea dawned in Venger’s devious mind. It even had a certain poetic justice to it. He would trap her alone, forever, in the very ring she had once imprisoned him in.
He retrieved the Ring of the Mind from where he’d hidden it after the latest battle with Kareena. Now all I have to do is think of an appropriate way to deliver it to her....
***
Amidst the arguments that followed, nobody noticed when Dungeonmaster disappeared.
Bobby was all for just heading over to the fortress and asking Venger for the piece. Eric suggested trading Sheila for it, and earned another kick in the shin from Diana. Diana felt they should break in and steal it. Presto wondered aloud how long Venger’s protective charm would last—perhaps they should be worrying about suffering a similar fate if it wore off! Hank, who had an idea of why Sheila was now in great danger, felt that their best chance was to guard her carefully until the curse wore off. Unfortunately they weren’t sure if it would wear off!
Sheila stayed invisible and tried not to worry. All Dungeonmaster would tell her was that Venger was not likely to allow himself such a weakness—and that he would undoubtedly confront them again soon. "Beware the one you trust the most, my child," he’d told her with that infuriatingly calm voice of his. "One of you will still face a terrible choice."
"How are you holding up?" Hank asked her, reaching for her invisible hand.
"I’m worried," she replied.
"Don’t worry, sis!" Her brother thumped his hand with his club. "That creep gets near you and POW!"
Eric regarded the diminutive Barbarian with a raised eyebrow. "I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots."
"We’ll get that piece back, Sheila, you’ll see." Diana patted her friend’s invisible shoulder. "And then we’ll make it home, finally!"
"Thanks, you guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you." Sheila sounded close to tears. They joked with her to cheer her up, which worked—until the valley of the ruins began to fill with a creeping, chilly fog.
A fog that, according to Eric, had 'Venger' written all over it.
***
A very annoyed Shadowdemon watched as fog rolled in, thick, heavy, and obviously magical (not a cloud in the sky!). Raising himself above its surface, he saw the dark shape of Venger, seated upon this Nightmare, conjuring from the sky.
Why? This would only make a tough job that much harder. How was he supposed to find the children and the missing shard in these mists? He shook his head in frustration. He regarded the valley with narrowed eyes. And if he did find them, how was he supposed to know which of them held the shard that Venger desired?
Hatred.
If they have found it, something that potent will be carried by the most responsible of them, he decided. The leader. The shard I seek will be carried by the Ranger.
***
"Stick together!" Hank called unnecessarily. Presto had already produced a length of rope, and everyone grabbed it and held on tightly as Hank led them away.
The sun was setting and it was getting darker. The shadows of the great shattered city towered over them menacingly, making them jumpy. It didn’t help that the fog was clammy and chilly and had a really ugly swampy stench to it that grew stronger as they walked. There were no other sounds around them, and the kids were reluctant to break the silence themselves.
"Are you sure we’re going the right way, Hank?" Diana called finally.
"Yup! The gate was this way!" Hank called back confidently. I think, he added silently.
"This fog is awful! It’s worse than…oooh-blech!" said Presto.
"What’s oooh-blech?" demanded Bobby.
"Like snot, only worse," quipped Eric, and there was a chorus of groans and eeeeeews from all around.
But not as many as there should have been.
"Hey—where’s Sheila?"
***
Sheila held onto the rope as if it were a lifeline. Hank would get them out of this. Everything would be all right. Even if the others were being uncharacteristically quiet….
The rope went slack in her hand.
"Guys? Hank? Bobby? Where are you? C'mon, this isn't funny!" Her voice started to break as tears of fright sprang to her eyes. "You know I hate being alone! Say something!"
Her invisible hands found a frayed end and the panic began to set in. It’s Venger he cut the rope and now he’s going to get me and I’m all aloneandVengerscomingandohmygodImgonnadie—
She jumped as she heard her name being called. Their voices echoed, distorted, from all directions, bouncing off the huge indistinct shapes around her.
"Where are you?" she answered, in a fine panic now. "Hank? Bobby?"
"Over here!"
"Hank, is that you?"
"This way!"
She ran toward the voice. "Hank!! Oh thank goodness it’s you!" she sobbed with relief as the Ranger’s familiar form materialized from the mists.
For the second time that day, the thief threw herself into Venger's arms. And she didn’t let go this time. Instead, she raised a lovely tear-streaked face and gazed into his eyes adoringly. A nice warm fuzzy feeling filled him as he stared back. A nice warm fuzzy feeling mixed with a healthy dose of panic.
For the first time in a thousand years, Venger was completely at a loss for words. The little brother, he thought frantically, I should have taken HIS shape!
***
"SHHIEEEELLLAAAAA!"
"She’s nowhere near or she would’ve heard that," Diana said anxiously, slipping the megaphone back into Presto’s hat.
"We haven’t tried this yet," said Bobby, and let out an obnoxious BLAAAAAAA with the bullhorn.
"Knock it off, you guys! I told you to keep it quiet! Do you want EVERYTHING to know we’re out here?" Hank reprimanded angrily.
"Don’t worry so much, fearless leader!!" Eric reassured him, "We can handle anything that’s out here! And Sheila’s smart enough to stay invisible until she finds us."
"Mr. Mouth is right, Hank," said Diana comfortingly. "She’ll be all right. After all, these ruins have been blocked off for centuries."
But they're not blocked off anymore, Hank thought grimly. Venger's out there…somewhere…
***
Venger pushed the thief firmly away from him. "Don’t," he said, for lack of anything better.
Sheila’s face was a combination of hurt, annoyance, and frustration. "Sorry, Hank…I guess it was nothing after all. Sorry I misunderstood. It’s just that..." She fell silent, and shrugged.
"What?" he said finally, curious.
"I sometimes get the feeling that you like me too. I guess it’s silly. You probably want someone your age anyway."
(She obviously wanted him to contradict her, but Venger was trying too hard not to cringe at the thought of what a woman his age might look like to make a response.)
"Maybe it’s just that I still feel all alone out here, even with you guys," she continued.
"I know that’s what you fear most," he said. He had, at one point, learned of their trials at the Tower of the Celestial Knights in his quest to find their weaknesses.
"But it’s more than just that," she said petulantly. "But you don’t have to act like the brave leader here, you can just be yourself. The others aren't here, now. We can really talk. Come on, Hank, let it go for just a minute."
"That would be a bad idea," he said.
"I understand….I guess we can talk about it when we get home. I wish I had your strength! I’m so tired of being strong. I have to act strong for Bobby. But I sometimes lie awake at night and I want to just pull up the hood and never reappear again. Especially when I know that Venger’s still out there, thinking of ways to kill us. Why does he hate us so much?"
Venger didn't answer- he was too busy digesting this confirmation of his suspicions, and suppressing an irrational feeling of betrayal. The Thief was secretly in love with the Ranger. How adorable. How convenient…
Does the Ranger feel the same for her? He swallowed, and found himself staring at her again, the object of his obsession, fighting the urge to play the role of the Ranger for real. As Hank might play it. It would work to his advantage, it would be terribly callous and cruel, beautifully poetic. Why, then was he having such difficulty following through with his plan?
***
Shadowdemon prowled the mists, seeking the children.
He heard voices ahead of him, the familiar, long-hated voices of two of the children. Seeping slowly toward them, he discovered the Ranger and the Thief sitting together on the stones of the ruins. What luck!
"It's not like we ever had a choice, whether or not to fight him. He started it. I wonder what he thinks he’s going to do with an entire world if he ever did conquer it?" asked the Thief, still talking of Venger.
The Ranger just shrugged, looking bewildered and confused as he watched her. She was watching her feet, keeping her voice carefully neutral, avoiding his eyes.
The shadow rolled non-existant eyes. Lovestruck fools, it was so obvious… nipping that shard would be a piece of cake! Eyes narrowed in concentration, the shadow crept up behind the unsuspecting pair.
A moment later he sailed away triumphantly, a jagged shard clutched tightly in his ghostly hand.
***
"Did you see that?" Sheila asked suddenly. "It looked like..." But whatever it was, it was gone. "Nevermind, it was just a shadow or something. I guess I'm a little jumpy!"
Venger suddenly realized he'd just spent the last few minutes thinking of the exact shade of blue that would describe her eyes. Remember the plan! Find a really fitting way to present the ring to her. If only she would start babbling about the Ranger again…Let her think that her beloved Hank had betrayed her.
"He seems to have it in for me especially. I know it’s paranoid, but sometimes I think Venger tries especially hard to scare me in particular. Like the time he was going off about how he was gonna erase our past, and he…touched me." She shuddered. "No one else, just me."
"And the time he awaited you in the dungeon, when you tried to rescue Alfour," Venger added thoughtfully. Seeing her terrified face had been deliciously satisfying. Until they'd made off with the damned ship, anyway.
"Yeah. He figured out you guys would send me in alone first, and really got a kick out of hiding in the dungeon cell in his Alfour suit. I was so embarrassed at the time for not realizing it was him sooner and running away," she said, then lapsed into the thoughtful silence of a sudden realization. "Like today…"
"I wonder what he’s doing right now?" Venger wondered aloud, losing himself in the role.
"I think he’s found the perfect revenge for me and he’s got us all lost in a fog so he can deal with us one at a time," she said, her voice hard and confident. "He’s just waiting for the right moment." She sighed. "I’m tired, Hank. I’m so tired of all this. I want to go home. I don’t want to be scared all the time. I don’t want to be always running…"
Venger found it a bit odd that she turned, rose, stepped away, and hugged herself rather than turning to her beloved Ranger for support, then mentally kicked himself for being a little bit…disappointed. Even worse, he found himself…admiring her. She’s trying so hard to be strong, he thought.
She turned suddenly as he stood up too, her eyes bright with suppressed tears, and caught him turning the Ring of the Mind in his fingers. What’s that, Hank?" she asked curiously. "Is that your class ring?"
"Yes," he said, wondering what in the Realm a class ring was. He hoped she hadn’t recognized the ring for what it was—he hadn’t disguised it yet.
"I guess you don’t have a girlfriend back home or you would’ve given it to her," she suggested, but her expression wasn’t too hopeful. In fact, the piercing look she leveled at him was rather disconcerting.
Keep prattling, young one…you’ve just given me a wonderful way to present you with my little gift… "No…I do not have a girlfriend," he said. "But I was thinking that…maybe…"
She smiled, a strange, lopsided smile and he saw the faintest hint of a nod.
Venger was getting a bit nervous again. Something was up…
But suddenly she was all cute redheaded coyness. "Really, Hank? You’d really let the others know how you really feel about me?" Her voice grew softer. She walked toward him, holding him in place with eyes suddenly much mature than before. "I know I’ve had a hard time suppressing how I feel about you," she purred. "And it’s soooo romantic here, don’t you think? The mist, the stone ruins…just the two of us, together…alone…"
Venger suddenly found himself retreating as she slowly approached him. No woman had ever approached him with that look before!! "Uuuuuhhh…" he managed, and felt the thump of a pillar on his back halt his retreat.
"It’s all right, Hank. You don’t have to say anything. I know now just how you feel." She was very close now, lovely blue-green eyes holding his gaze. He knew he was in trouble as she slid a hand over the studded armor on his chest, but couldn't bring himself to move, not now, it was far too late. She held him riveted with anticipation. "You know," she said murmured, "I’ve wanted to do this ever since we got to this world."
He cleared his throat. "W-what?"
"This," she breathed, and decked him for all she was worth.
***
"Sheila? Sheila?" Presto called occasionally.
The kids had agreed to split up and search in pairs. Presto paired with Eric, of course (for despite all his claims to the contrary, Eric didn’t want to be without Presto’s modern conveniences for a moment if he could help it), and Hank paired with Diana only after Bobby had thrown a fit about being old enough to search with Uni. Hank had agreed in the end because he figured that Venger was only after Sheila, after all…and if he’d found her first, there was not much they could do, even in pairs, was there?
(But he didn’t tell Bobby that.)
"C’mon, Presto—can’t you pull something useful out of that crazy hat?" snapped Eric, once they were out of earshot of the Ranger.
"Ok, I’ll try again…but I don’t think it’ll do us any good. Ummm…..Can you think of a word that rhymes with precipitation?"
"Oh, brother. This isn’t a poetry contest, Presto!"
"Ok, I got it! Abra-ca-vay! Hat, make my day! Give me a way to blow this fog away!!"
Eric winced at the rhyme, then grabbed the huge fan out of Presto’s hands. Presto stared at the other object the hat had produced, and shrugged. The use of the gas mask because clear after Eric turned on the fan. It did nothing to clear the fog, but a lot to increase the really nasty swampy stench.
"Nice try, Hat," Presto said to it dolefully. "Come on, let’s keep looking."
***
"Did you really think you could fool me again? Twice in one day?? You didn’t even have a magic bow with you! You know, it’s not even a matter of good and evil anymore, Venger, it’s a matter of principle- we can’t let you rule the Realm because you’re just too dumb to rule it!"
Venger, once he’d finished sitting up and shaking the stars from his head, was getting the worst scolding he’d ever received.
"This isn’t the first time!" she shrieked angrily, hands planted on her hips, in a fine temper now. "If you’d just let us go home you could take over anytime you liked! But no, it’s 'give me the weapons' this and 'hand ‘em over' that and 'go away guards 'cause I want to take on these kids all by my myself' all the time, and we have to fight you, and we destroy what we both want and we ALWAYS LOSE!"
The worst part about it is that she’s right, Venger thought sullenly. He rubbed his black eye and looking suitably chagrined. "Are you finished?" he asked, still in Hank's form because it would be far too embarassing to resume his own at the moment.
"Did you ever consider that if you can’t even manage to zap six kids, perhaps you aren’t cut out for world domination?" she asked.
"Just keep standing there, and I’ll give it my best shot," he grumbled.
"Humph." She tipped up the hood and vanished. "Just try it. So what’s with the ring? Are you planning to propose? Perhaps to my corpse?" she asked sarcastically.
"It is the Ring of the Mind," he replied. There was a brief silence.
Then she started up again, freshly outraged. "You are a twisted soul, you know that?" Something invisible kicked him right in the kneecap, and he grunted in pain. "Disguising yourself as someone I lo-…um…care about a lot and trying to trick me into trapping myself? Ye gods, this is incredible! All you had to do was, I dunno, put a sleep spell on us and steal the shards after we found them- instead you waste all this time coming up with a hare-brained complicated scheme to trap me! They aren't kidding when they say love makes idiots out of men!"
He didn’t reply.
"Venger….are you blushing?" she asked incredulously. "Now I’ve seen everything!!"
"Are you quite finished, girl?"
She sighed, then forced a laugh. "I suppose. No matter what happens next, I’ll always have the satisfaction of knowing I outsmarted someone old enough to be my great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather!"
Venger, still looking just like Hank, growled an obscenity that Hank would never have used.
She tipped back the hood and reappeared, lounging on top of a broken column and flashing him a cocky grin. "You know what? I don’t think I’ll ever be really afraid of you again. You know why? ‘Cause I don’t think you can hurt us. I know why you have to come up with all those crazy schemes to catch us or erase our past…"
He tried to prove her wrong and aimed a bolt of lightning at her, which hit the column on which she sat instead. She sprang lightly to the ground as it collapsed and just as easily hopped up onto another perch.
"You see?" she said. "You can’t kill us, can you? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But I think there’s a lot going on here that I’m just starting to understand."
Venger resumed his normal form- tall, gaunt, old, terrifying. His wings unfurled and spread wide, and his red eyes glowed with fury, truly the embodiment of evil. "Do not trifle with me, girl!" he roared.
Sheila didn't move. She faked a huge yawn. "Seen it," she said. "Been there, done that, left Darkhaven in ruins…"
Venger couldn’t believe it. "HOW DARE YOU…?" he roared. He stomped over to where she stood defiantly perched on the pillar, watching her lack of fear with extreme displeasure. He held up the ring. "Don’t you know I am going to trap you forever? Alone?" He waved it menacingly, made it glitter evilly. "All I have to do is—"
"But you won’t," she said softly. "Will you?"
Venger hissed through his teeth. "No." he grumbled, as the fight went out of him. He'd failed, again. But… "I had another plan, in case this one failed," Venger continued. "Here." She shrank back, but he held up his hand placatingly. "It will not trap you now." And he pressed the Ring of the Mind into Sheila’s hand.
She looked at the ring, looked at him with deep suspicion. "I don’t get it."
"Use it," he said. "Turn it on me, and you’ll be rid of me forever."
"WHAT?!" She stared at the ring in horror.
"I know what you desire most." His voice was strangely seductive. "To see me punished, to see me suffer alone, vanquished? Use the Ring, and know that you have saved the Realm from my evil forever. We both know that ever since your victory in the Dragon’s Graveyard, you all wished passionately for a second chance."
Sheila was no dummy. "I don’t believe you for a second. This is just a trick too. You know that if I trapped you now I’d feel guilty for the rest of my life. I couldn’t take advantage of you like that—especially if you’re doing it out of love!!"
"Of course not." His smile was twisted and cruel. "But how will you feel later, when I have destroyed the last portal to your world, and have you and your friends at my mercy…how will you feel then, knowing you had that chance to destroy me?"
Sheila was impressed. "Clever! You’re terrible even when you’re in love!"
"Yes," he agreed. "An interesting sensation, hating and loving something so much at the same time. I wish to give you the thing you want most, as long as I know it will destroy you in the end."
"But you’re wrong, Venger. You have no idea what I want. It's sure not revenge."
His eyes narrowed in surprise. "What do you want?"
"The same thing I’ve always wanted, Venger. All we ever wanted was to go home. Besides, I’m not all that stupid, you know. You’d get over your love-curse if I threw this ring at you, ‘cause then you’d know for sure that I hated you."
Venger nodded. "Exactly. And you do hate me, do you not?"
Sheila thought a moment. "Not really," she said slowly. "I don't know what the hell drives you, Venger, but it must be something terrible. To get pleasure out of torturing what you love? Isn't that rather like torturing yourself?"
Venger didn't reply. What could he say to that?
"Besides," she added, "You haven't really hurt us. Well, you did get Uni, once. I'm surprised you never tried to bargain with us- you know, send us home yourself? Early on, we probably would have jumped at the chance…now it's too late for that. But it was your own choice to involve us in your war."
"No…it was Dungeonmaster's choice," he replied.
"Whatever," she said indifferently. "It makes no difference to us either way. So. Here we are. NOW what are you going to do? Or am I free to go?"
"No," Venger said, raising a glowing hand. He stared at her, longing churning in his long-dormant heart. That was what it was, in the end, yearning. It wasn't a romantic love for her that he desired, it was a long suppressed desire to rejoin humanity, to be free of the darkness which was of his own making, in which he was forever trapped. It was torture. "I must be free of this curse," he said, real pain in his voice now. He would have to do it, he had to…
"So, apparently, learning to live with it isn't an option," she said wryly. She had no illusions that she was going to redeem him, and had little sympathy for him as he struggled to maintain the darkness that defined him. "Look, I don't think killing me will solve your problem, Venger." She sighed. "But perhaps there's a way to nullify it..."
Venger was startled- he'd forgotten all about his order to Shadowdemon. As luck would have it, at that moment a shadowy form seeped through the mist. "Master! I have the shard!"
"At last!" Venger turned back to Sheila, straightening up, confidence restored. "Well, then, child…you will find that I will not be so merciful, once this curse is removed. You’d better start running."
Sheila folded her arms with a strange smile, acting on a sudden hunch. "I suppose you should probably look at me again when you touch it, hmm? Just to be sure you’re over your love for me?"
Shadowdemon turned to give her an incredulous look. Venger? In love with a mortal girl?! What a ridiculous idea!
"By the way, Venger…your plan didn’t work," Sheila continued. "I won’t feel one bit guilty about letting you go. You're punishing yourself far worse than anything we would do."
Shadowdemon’s startled glance returned to Venger, who (he now realized) was developing a fine shiner on his left eye.
"Not a word," Venger growled at him.
Shadowdemon swallowed his questions and held up the stolen silver shard. Being little more than animated darkness, Shadowdemon was unaffected by the shards, and therefore could not understand Venger’s reaction when he dropped the shard into Venger's waiting hand.
Venger felt a sweet, warm, fuzzy sensation fill his very being with its sweet strength.
Oh, no.
"Shadowdemon…" he said, fixing his eyes grimly on the crystal, "where did you get this?"
"I stole it from the Ranger himself…while he was occupied with…this…um…girl…." The cringing shadow began to back away.
Sheila began to laugh merrily.
And Venger, still staring at love in his open palm, felt a sense of irony (along with a double dose of shiny, happy, cheery ray-of-sunshine-y feeling coming from the vicinity of his heart). Dungeonmaster was right again—evil deeds coming back to their source and all that nonsense. It seemed he was always setting himself up for his own destruction. It was maddening. It was enough to make him do something he hadn’t done in over a thousand years.
He laughed, too.
Shadowdemon hadn’t a clue what to make of all this. He decided that perhaps he should laugh as well. And so he did.
"Get out of here, Shadowdemon," Venger told him abruptly. Shadowdemon ceased laughing abruptly, and slunk out of the fog like a kicked dog.
Venger regarded the little winking piece of tarnished silver in his hand, knowing he was facing the most difficult choice of his life.
"Well?" Sheila asked quietly. "We could all fight to the death over who gets them all, destroying them and the rest of Silver City in the process," she said. "Or you could give it to me so we can finally go home. Or I could try to talk Hank into giving them all to you. But somehow I doubt that last option would work," she added. "What do you want to do?"
"What I want is—" Venger fought the words, but they came pouring out anyway. "I want something that I gave up. A thousand years ago. When I gave up my mortality. But it’s too late, isn’t it?"
"I don’t know. Is it?" she asked quietly. For a moment their eyes met, and Sheila suddenly saw Venger in a new light.
Then his eyes hardened, and he held the shard between them. And he crushed it, ground it with magic until it was nothing but dust, and felt the painful sting of the light die out in his heart.
"Yes," he replied to her cry of dismay, opening his palm and letting the glittering dust sprinkle into the mist.
"So," she said, after a moment, "what happens now?"
"We both forget any of this ever happened," he replied. "And everything goes back to the way it was."
"Except for one thing. You now know how I feel about Hank. If you ever try to use that against either him or me," Sheila said in a deadly serious voice, "I’ll tell them everything about what happened here. Everything. And you’ll be humiliated. Got that?"
Venger inclined his head in a gesture of respect. "Agreed. But next time," he said menacingly, "expect no favors."
"Likewise, Venger."
She vanished into the mist.
For a long time he stood there, alone, letting the magical fog swirl about him. Then he, too dissolved into the vapor.
***
"I still think that we should split up again and look for her," Presto said. "And I don’t see why you wouldn’t let me send up some of those fireworks!"
"I said no, Presto—how could she see them in this fog? And besides, if we split up again we’ll just keep wandering around in circles again," Hank said reasonably, trying to hide the worry in his voice.
"We should’ve been more careful," Bobby kept saying. "I still think there was a way we could have used the whatzits to find her!"
"The whatzits, as you call them, are no longer useful to you, my children," said Dungeonmaster, his red robes trailing ropes of mist as he approached them.
"Dungeonmaster!" exclaimed Bobby.
"Venger has destroyed the last missing shard," Dungeonmaster continued.
"He destroyed it? But why?" asked Diana.
"He decided that he could no longer pay the price," Dungeonmaster told them.
Eric grinned. "Yeah…Sheila’s enough to drive anyone crazy," he said.
"Don’t you talk about my sister that way!" Bobby threatened.
"Be-aaaaah!" agreed Uni.
"Give it a rest, you two. Dungeonmaster….is Sheila all right?" asked Hank.
"Why not ask her yourself?" said the little sorcerer, and at his gesture the fog lifted from the valley, revealing a cloaked figure not a dozen yards away.
(It also revealed that they were nowhere near the gates of the ruins, as Hank had insisted, but Hank hoped they’d overlook that part.)
"Sheila!!" they cried, and ran to greet her.
"So what happened?"
"Did you see Venger?"
"How’d you get away?"
"What happened??"
Sheila smiled, but found herself reluctant to speak of what she’d seen. All she would say was that what Dungeonmaster had told her had turned out true, as usual. Venger had tried to trick her by using the form of one she trusted. And she’d figured him out when he slipped and said something that only she knew about. And she’d tricked him back. She described her legendary punch with considerable pride and even showed them her bruised knuckles.
But she didn’t tell them what she’d learned. And she didn’t tell them that he, not she, was the one who’d had to make the terrible choice between what their heart desired most and what they’d been seeking all their life. She didn’t want them to know she’d thrown another chance to get rid of him away. She didn’t want to make their own moral decisions regarding Venger any harder than they had to be.
But mostly, she thought as the happy group made their way out of the ruins and on to their next adventure, I didn’t tell them because…in the end…I kinda felt sorry for him. He must have such a lonely life…
She glanced briefly at the Ring of the Mind, and slipped it on her finger.
If worst comes to worst…I can always throw it at him again…
***
Venger stared out the window at the Realm that he should be ruling.
I should feel humiliated. I should feel like a complete and total fool. I destroyed another chance to conquer this wretched world…because of a girl. I even gave her the Ring of the Mind. What was I thinking? She knows too much. And now I am in debt to her, for I know she will not break her word.
She was magnificent.
And Venger took that memory, and all the other memories and longings that the curse had awakened, and he buried them deep within the tattered, shriveled thing that was once his heart.
And he thought on it no more.
All at once he summoned his black stallion and took to the sky. He conjured up a terrible storm, a glorious display of wanton terror and pointless destruction, to celebrate his return to evil. And to scare the daylights out of those kids. An evil grimace of anticipation came over his face.
A few hundred yards away, a stray lightning bolt singed the tail of a passing dragon. A five-headed, easily annoyed dragon, which immediately began to search for the source of its discomfort.
Dungeonmaster’s pupils were sitting around their little campfire, making s’mores. They were in quite a festive mood—Presto’s hat had been generous that night and the kids were eagerly gobbling down their first taste of chocolate and marshmallows since they’d gotten to the Realm.
Venger grinned evilly and prepared a special bolt just to douse their puny fire. They saw him and jumped up, the Ranger giving orders, the Magician bending and pleading over his glowing hat, the Cavalier scampering about in terror....
Venger was pleased at their reaction, until they stopped running and started pointing behind him. Venger glared at them with disdain. Did they think he was that stupid, to fall for the oldest trick in the—
All five heads roaring, Tiamat attacked him from behind. The next few minutes was spent fighting to avoid being alternately burnt, frozen, electrocuted, poisoned, dissolved, or chomped. It didn’t help that, far below him, six kids (and a baby unicorn) were clapping and cheering them on.
"Nice to have you back, Horn-Head!" the Thief called, as Presto's hat produced bags of popcorn just for the occasion.
***
As Venger sped away, Tiamat in close pursuit, he vowed revenge.
Again.
For the 68th time that year.
= The End =
= = =
= = =