Chapter 4

The room was utterly silent as the two most powerful Mages in the Realm faced each other. Neither moved. The Warlock looked calm, a slight, superior smile on his lips. The Bow in his hand was held up, ready for action. Venger's face was disfigured by a contemptuous sneer, and all his attention was fixed on the Warlock.

For once, Eric was glad not to be on the receiving end of Venger's anger. Then a sudden, unpleasant thought struck him: the others could never get here in time. They weren't going to get him out of this.

He frowned. His only hope was Venger! Eric watched the Arch-Mage carefully. He'd never thought the day would come when he was rooting for Horn-Head to win.

'Warlock!' Venger said at last, watching the other man through half-closed eyes.

'Venger! At last!'

Both men moved simultaneously. Two balls of flame shot out of Venger's hands as the Warlock casually drew an arrow and fired. There was another deep roar that shook the room as the arrow sliced through the Arch-Mage's magic fire. Venger laughed as the energy from the arrow coiled itself around his waist and arms. But the laughter soon faded when he realised he couldn't move.

The Warlock took a step forward and released another arrow. Venger struggled with the writhing magic, the red fires coursing up and down his body and over the huge, black wings. It was not in Venger's nature to acknowledge weakness, but Eric could see anger and pain in his eyes. Slowly the Arch-Mage sank to his knees.

Eric was stunned. That was it? One hit and Venger was down? What was going on? He saw Venger brace himself as another arrow flew towards him. There was no scream of pain, but soon the Arch-Mage had loops of red magic around his wings, wrists and neck. He glared at the Warlock.

'How?' was all that Venger muttered.

The Warlock lifted the black Bow, never taking his eyes from the weapon.

'Now you see who is the Master! You see what I have done! I can do ANYTHING!' he shouted. The Warlock was shaking, his eyes wide with triumphant glee.

'How?' whispered Venger again.

'With this weapon I will rule the Realm! No one can stop me!'

Gone was the calculating calmness the Warlock had shown before. He was beyond arrogance or good sense and revelled in his opponents defeat, an arrogant sneer on his face.

The Cavalier shivered. That guy's gone nuts! But Eric knew he'd seen that particular look before. He was suddenly reminded of his own Father, after a successful business coup.

Venger shuddered, struggling to move against the magic that held him. Eric was sure he saw a thin sheen of sweat on the Arch-Mage's brow. The Warlock finally looked down at the defeated Mage before him.

'The magic that holds you will not let you raise a hand against me, or act contrary to my wishes. You were a powerful enemy, but you are threat to me no longer. I could destroy you in a heartbeat, but…' the Warlock smiled, 'I suggest you consider your position, Venger, ' he said, as if bestowing a final favour on a grovelling peasant. 'Will you serve me?'
Eric looked from one to the other, wondering what was happening. Surely the Warlock wasn't stupid enough to keep Venger as a slave!

And Venger…well, for one crazy moment, Eric was sure the Arch-Mage would say yes. But then he remembered that this was Venger, the same Venger that had chased the Young Ones all over the Realm, who had battled Tiamat more times than he could be bothered counting, who had raised armies of evil Orcs to subdue all the small pockets of good that could still be found. This was Venger! He was the Master, never a servant!

'Yes,' said the Arch-Mage, 'I will serve you.'

Eric almost choked, unable to believe what he had just heard. What was Venger playing at?

'Swear it!'

Venger didn't hesitate.

'I swear it, Master.'

'Then rise, and take your pre-destined place at my side.'

The magic bands faded, but didn't disappear completely and Venger slowly got to his feet. He looked down at the magic on his wrists, the sneer back on his lips.

'How did you do this?'

The Warlock looked sternly at him and Venger corrected himself.

'How did you do this, Master?' Eric had never heard the word Master used as such an insult.

The Warlock stroked the Bow lovingly.

'The Conduit of Transference from the Dragon's Graveyard,' he replied, with a quick wave at the altar. Venger's eyebrows raised a notch, but the Warlock carried on, oblivious. 'I have used its power to transform the Ranger's Bow, taking my own magic and combining it with the boy's life-force.'

Both men turned to stare at Eric, who suddenly wished he could vanish of the face of the Realm. Their faint amusement at his predicament was worse than the burning pain in his arms and shoulders. And, on top of everything, he couldn't even think of a decent putdown.

Venger looked carefully at the Cavalier, still half-dressed in the Ranger's clothes, then back to the Bow, and frowned for a second before giving a particularly unpleasant smirk.

'You? You are the Ranger today?' he said. 'How amusing! Let me guess…you met the Imp?'

Eric didn't reply, and not just because he still felt sick and couldn't move. This was terrible! This was all going wrong. He would have panicked if he had the strength. He wanted to panic; panic would be a good feeling, but at it was all he felt was empty and tired.

He tried to concentrate on what was happening, but all he could think about was the Warlock. He was being so stupid, so confident in his new weapon. Venger would never stay as a slave! What was the Warlock thinking? Why did he trust Venger, of all the people in the Realm? What had happened, why was the Warlock being so dumb all of a sudden?

A glint of light from the Bow caught his attention. With all that power, was there anything the Warlock couldn't do? Was the Warlock really invincible while wielding it? And what about Venger?

The Arch-Mage was watching him, and gave a snort of disgust.

'And to think, the Warlock used your life force in his ritual,' he said, with special contempt in the word 'your'. 'I am surprised it worked!' Venger turned back to his new Master. 'What of the others?' he asked.

The thought that the Warlock had the others hadn't crossed Eric's mind. Were they here too, locked in a dungeon, waiting?

The Warlock seemed surprised by the question.

'Nothing, they are heading to my portal as we speak.'

No other words had ever sounded so good to Eric. His friends were safe! The thought that this horrible experience might happen to Presto, or Sheila, or any of them, was more than he could bear.

Venger's eyebrows rose once more.

'Their weapons?'

'The weapons are of no concern. I have all I need.'

'But their weapons are also from the Graveyard,' said Venger, eyeing the Warlock very carefully. 'They might withstand the Bow's power. They are wielded by the pure at heart, after all.'

This made the Warlock pause, and Eric started worrying again. He made another, futile effort to get free. Venger approached the Warlock and said quietly:

'The others will come for this one. The opportunity to take the weapons of power away from the Young Ones should not be passed up.'

The Warlock looked doubtfully at Venger.

'Why would they come, Venger? The portal is not guarded, why would they stay?'

Eric gulped. He had not been very nice to any of them recently. Maybe they would leave him. The prediction of Venger's Master would be fulfilled by his own actions. He had driven his friends away.

'They would not abandon one of their own number,' said Venger calmly, 'If you wait, you can gain the power of their weapons as well, and using them all together will ensure that Tiamat will not stand in your way, or even Dungeonmaster himself.'

The Warlock gave a derisive snort.

'Dungeonmaster does not worry me, Venger! But Tiamat is different. The children's weapons would be very effective against the Queen of the Dragons. I wonder what sort of wonderful weapon would be created by her death!'

He gave a cold laugh then said:

'I shall send my Minions to collect them.'

'No!' said Venger loudly. 'Bring them here, and face them in your stronghold. Send a messenger to trick them. Use their friend as bait.'

As the Warlock pondered the suggestion, Eric saw Venger smile that evil, I'm-plotting-your-inevitable-destruction smile that he'd seen so many times before. But how? Eric wondered. What are you up to, Venger? What do you want with the others?

'Very well, Venger,' said the Warlock after a long silence. 'I shall take the weapons of power, something you have tried and failed to do so many times before.'

Venger scowled, his eyes burning with anger, but he simply lowered his head in submission.

'I have the perfect messenger in mind. Master.'

'Come then, let us prepare.'

The Warlock swept past Venger and the Cavalier without a sideways glance. Venger bowed, the red lines of magic glowing round his neck. But Eric could tell by the cold smile on Venger's face that he had absolutely no intention of helping for longer than he had to. As the Arch-Mage followed his new Master, he shot Eric an angry look.

'And you had better hope they're quick, boy!' he muttered.

They had been on the move for over an hour, all the time heading towards the centre. The path itself was narrow and difficult to follow, and they had stopped a number of times to make sure of their direction. Several flashed of lightning had skipped between the branches close by them, but none had struck the path. Tiny blue birds with long, red bills darted in and out of the trees chasing insects, and once or twice they'd seen a flash of brown and blue as strange animals scurried past, probably chasing the birds.

Hank walked in the lead, the others following in a straggly line. No one had said anything since they had entered the Forest, and the new Barbarian was grateful for the silence. However hard he tried to keep calm, excitement was building with every step at the possibility of a way home. But not once had they seen any sign of Eric.

To keep thoughts of their hapless ol' Cavalier out of his head, he concentrated on home, his Mom and Dad, his other friends, and the unanswerable question: how was he going to explain his absence? He was going to get the grounding of the Century when he got home. But not even that thought could dampen his hope today.

There was a sudden glint of colour to his left, a startling change form the monotony of charred trees. He stopped.

The portal!

'There is it, guys!' he shouted, 'I can see it, I can see it!'

There was a whoop of joy from Bobby the Magician.

It was one of the best sights Hank had ever seen. They turned a corner and directly in front of them was a clearing in the thick wall of black trees. Four huge stones stood round the edges and raised on a rocky outcrop near the centre, was the glowing portal home.

He could see into it, see the tents and the rides, the people walking around. Faint sounds of fun filtered through, laughter and voices, and the quiet whir of fairground wheels. He could even smell food.

Hank stared at it dumbly for a couple of seconds, feeling his heart thumping, then took a step forward, then another, and broke into a run. The footsteps of the others were clear behind him.

He had almost reached the steps when he noticed something that made him skid to a halt, in spite of the portal. Sitting on the bottom step, looking dishevelled, dirty and thoroughly wretched was the little Wish Imp, its wings deformed with glowing red bands of magic, with a red collar to match. The Imp looked miserably up at him and sniffed.

It looked so lost and frightened that he couldn't just race past it, so with a huge effort of will, Hank turned away from the portal, trying to concentrate on the Imp.

It sniffed again. Uni trotted up to it and gave a cautious whinny.

The others had stopped as well, and Sheila came up to sit next to the Imp. It turned and looked at her, big tears forming at the edges of its eyes.

'What do you want?' demanded Bobby, who had stopped closest to the portal, so close he could touch it.

'I need you to help,' it said quietly, 'Please?'

Bobby gave a surly humph and Presto asked:

'Why do you need us? You've caused us a lot of trouble, you know!'

The Imp sagged its shoulders, looking sad.

'All the others have gone, I am the only one left. I know of no one else to ask.' It looked round at them. 'You are good. You are the Pure of Heart. I am sorry. I make wishes, that is all I can do. Not even Dungeonmaster can change me.'

'What happened?' asked Sheila, 'How did you get like this?'

The Imp shivered.

'Warlock,' it said.

Hank gave a sigh. Ever since Arhala had mentioned the evil Warlock, he'd had the nasty feeling they would have to meet him.

Diana looked round at the portal and said:

'Couldn't we just Wish it differently? You are a Wish Imp.'

The Imp sniffed again.

'Wishes gone. All gone. Warlock took them. Warlock is powerful, has a weapon from the Dragon's Graveyard, most powerful weapon.' It pointed to the rings round its wings, and sighed. Hank's stomach lurched at the next two words: 'Magic Bow.'

He knelt down in front of the Imp, feeling cold and sick.

'Was Eric there? You know, the one you met first.'

The Imp looked down at the ground and didn't reply.

'He must have been,' said Diana. 'How else could that Warlock have gotten hold of the Bow? Eric wouldn't have left it lying around.'

'I bet Eric's fine,' said Bobby. 'He probably dropped the Bow in his rush to get to the portal!'

'Yeeeah, hine,' agreed Uni, who was pawing the ground and casting angry looks at the Imp.

'Was Eric there?' Presto repeated.

The Imp finally nodded, as the red magic collar and cuffs glowed a faint red.

'Top tower,' it said.

Hank sighed and put his head in his hands. Damn that useless Cavalier. How did he manage to get into these situations? He looked round to the portal, seeing the people, and thinking of his own home, his parents, his friends.

'Eric's probably in trouble,' said Sheila. 'What'll we do?'

Hank knew the others were all looking at him. He was the leader, he had to make the right decision. The last thing in the world Hank wanted to do at the moment was go chasing after their wretched Cavalier. They had needed him earlier, but he wasn't there. So what if the shoe was on the other foot now?

'I'm not sure, guys,' he said slowly, looking up. 'But if this Warlock has the Bow, then there's no telling what he might do with it.'

He looked round at the others.

'I don't care what happens to the stupid Cavalier,' said Bobby loudly. ' I wanna go home!'

'Bobby!' said Sheila. 'We can't just leave him! We can't!'

'He started it! It's not our fault he's in trouble!'

No one spoke.

Hank looked at Diana.

'He did leave us first, Hank,' said Diana uncertainly. 'I mean, can we just forget about that?'

Presto was looking at the ground, his head bowed.

'Presto?' asked Hank gently.

The new Acrobat gave a long sigh and looked up at Hank with a rueful half-smile.

'He was probably trying to get directions. I can just see him wandering up to the castle and asking if anyone had seen a portal.' Presto looked hopefully up at Hank. 'He might get out on his own,' he said, then paused and shook his head. 'Who am I trying to kid? Eric couldn't find his way out of an open gate!'

There was a long, heavy silence. Then Hank said:

'We can't let the Bow stay in the wrong hands, guys. We have to stop this Warlock.'

'And Eric?' insisted Presto.

Hank could only shrug. Leaving him stuck in some dungeon would be punishment enough, and very, very tempting. But the Bow was a powerful weapon, and he didn't dare tell the others just how bad it could be if this Warlock used it against the good people in the Realm. That was the bottom line. They had to retrieve the Bow. And they had to retrieved Eric at the same time, even if they didn't really want to.

He stood up.

'We'll have to go,' he said firmly.

It spoke volumes for his leadership that no one said anything against his decision, not even Bobby.

The others all turned and looked into the portal, giving it one long, last look. It wasn't the first time they had turned back from their home world, but this was the hardest. Hank turned away first, a terrible, empty feeling inside balanced with equal measures of anger and resentment. Slowly, one by one, he heard the others do the same. The Imp scampered to the front of the group, leading the way out of the forest.

They walked in silence, the Imp always in the lead. It was the worst time Hank had ever experienced. All he could think about was home and he was sure all the others were having similar thoughts. None of his friends talked, they just followed him out of the Forest and across the lower part of the valley, the silence making him feel a thousand times worse. It was as if they had given up all hope of every getting home, once and for all.

Hours passed as they walked in silence behind the Imp. The valley was empty, so they slowly climbed the steep hills up to the castle. The castle grew bigger and more imposing with every step. It was long and low, except for a single tower to the back, with thick, stone ramparts and a big gate at the front.

It was only when Hank got a clear look at the castle's gate that the thought of home was driven out of his mind. They now had more serious problems. He looked down at the weapon in his hand, the Club. How were they going to win this time?

As soon as the gateway was in sight, Diana flicked up the hood of her Cloak and ran on ahead, after promising to only scout the entrance and not go any further. They waited in an uncomfortable silence.

'Castle is deserted, Hank,' she said when she returned. 'There wasn't a single guard anywhere. I could have walked right in!' She looked uncomfortable for a few seconds then added:

'But I saw the Nightmare.'

'Venger!'

The Imp squirmed uncomfortably at the name.

'Did you know about this?' Hank asked the Imp angrily.

'Warlock and Venger are enemies,' it replied.

'It sounds like a trap to me, one with Venger's fingerprints all over it.' said Presto. He pointed to the Imp. 'Can we even trust it, after what it did to us?'

The Imp just looked at him with big soulful eyes.

'We have to Presto,' said Hank, 'We can't risk Venger or anyone else using that Bow.'

Presto gave a humph.

'Well, I still think it's a trap.'

'The Imp said Eric was in the top tower.'

'That sounds like a good place for a trap.' Presto crossed his arms, the golden jewellery of the Acrobat glinting in the sunshine.

'C'mon guys,' said Sheila. 'We need a plan. We have to get in there, get the Bow and get out, with Eric.'

Bobby snorted at the sound of the ol' Cavalier's name, and Uni joined in. Hank took a deep breath and looked at his friends, assuming his I'm-the-leader-so-I-know-what-to-do face.

'We need to get into that tower. Bobby, get ready with some anti-Venger spells. Diana, keep your eyes open for the Bow, you too, Presto. Sheila, stay close to Bobby, make sure that he has a chance to get the Hat going.'

'What about you, Hank?'

Hank hefted the Club from hand to hand. He smiled at Bobby, who was looking worried at the prospect of having to get the Hat to cooperate.

'I'm going to act like any good Barbarian should,' he said. Bobby gave him a smile back and the others smiled to. Hank felt his confidence rising. So what if they had the wrong weapons, they had defeated Venger under worse circumstances than this.

'Are you coming too?' he asked the Imp.

It cowered on the ground, shaking, covering its head with its hands.

'That's a 'no' then!' said Diana.

They looked round at each other purposefully.

'C'mon guys, let's just get this over with!' said Hank. He turned and led them towards the gate.

It was just as Diana had said. There was no one inside. The only movement came from the huge, black Nightmare as it strolled slowly around the stony courtyard.

Thick walls enclosed the courtyard on three sides, the other side was lower and held a single door, the only way onto the castle. Through the door was a long, dark corridor, with many doors off it. Just visible at the other end was the start of a spiral staircase.

The stairs were narrow, and they climbed up in single file. Still nothing else moved.

Hank began to get seriously worried. If the Warlock had already gone, they would never find the Bow. He hoped the Imp had been right and Eric was still in the top room. They would never have time to search the whole castle.

After five minutes of climbing, they paused at a window to catch their breath and looked out across the valley. Sheila stood close to him, hugging her Shield.

'It's a long way down,' she whispered. He nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he had never felt less confident in his life. This whole setup stank. Presto was right. This was a trap.

He gripped the Club more firmly. They would be ready for Venger. They would do what they had to, and get out as quickly as they could. He started to climb again.

At the top, when they eventually reached it, was a single, wide-open door at the end of a short hall. Hank signalled the others to come closer and together they entered the room.

It was dimly lit, with only the one window letting in the suns' rays, and there was the sharp, acrid smell of smoke and metal. The walls were covered in thick, heavy drapes except…

Hank's heart almost stopped. There was Eric.

Eric was pinned against the wall, naked from the waist up, his pale skin showing a disturbing variety of bruises. His arms were pulled taut, as if he was being slowly torn apart. The top of his left arm had a bloody cut, and there was an alarmingly large pool of congealing blood on the floor.

His head drooped down and there was no sign that he was alive.