Disclaimer: Since its development in 1983, the animated series Dungeons and Dragons has belonged to the following at some point: Marvel Productions, TSR, Inc., Wizards of the Coast, Saban Entertainment, (according to rumor) Disney, and possibly even others. I guess my point is, it does not (nor has it ever) belonged to me. Oh, well! This story, however, does! I hope you enjoy it!
Rating: PG-13 for some language and violent elements
Author's Note: In categorizing this story, I've always envisioned it as an "action/adventure – drama." I think it's safe to say that we've had enough of the latter to last a while! Time to get the ball rolling on the "action" part! So, without further ado . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LEGACY
Chapter 8 -- Darkened Dawn
The dawn's early light didn't seem to touch the ominous fortress, almost as though it feared entering the land on which the Citadel of War stood. Hank, flanked by the two women with him, stared up at the towering structure. "I guess this is the place," he mused.
Teri's fingers tightly clutched her necklace. Even in her dreams, she had never imagined a place so dark and frightening. Yet, she was strangely unafraid. The idea that they were now, finally, closer to Bobby caused her to stiffen with determination. "How do we get in?" she asked.
Sheila looked to her husband. His eyes were focused intently on his weapon -- their only real weapon. "Maybe I should--," she began to offer as her fingers instinctively went for her hood.
Hank shook his head and firmly clasped one of her hands, bringing it back down and holding it between them. Their small group needed to stay together.
The three inched closer to the edifice, using the surrounding crags of boulders as cover. Upon nearing the citadel, however, and inspecting it more closely, Teri noticed something strange. "No guards," she whispered.
Indeed, the Orcish sentinels that they expected to see were strangely absent from the scene. Sheila offered a suggestion. "This Kadysse seems overconfident," she said. "According to what Uni told Varla, she causes wars between the people of the Realm by manipulating their minds. Maybe she's so assured of her own powers that she doesn't think anyone would attack her."
"Hypnosis," Hank pondered, "She spreads come kind of Helen-of-Troy Syndrome. Getting men to go to war for her."
"If her confidence keeps her feeling immune to invaders, maybe we'll have a clear shot getting in," Teri said hopefully.
"Maybe," Hank replied, "But I wouldn't count on it. Just because the 'Bacon Brigade' isn't out here doesn't mean we won't run into trouble inside." He stepped lightly in the direction of the main gates, followed closely by Sheila and Teri. The Ranger's fingers were poised to draw an arrow if necessary as he slid across the outer wall of the fortress. Holding his breath, he peeked around the opening and inspected the foyer chamber for guards. Then, giving a cautious nod to the women behind him, he and the others crossed the threshold.
* * *
The Orc on guard had only one word that mattered to him: duty. Not because he was especially cause-oriented or driven, but because he cared too much for his own self-preservation. Even his Orcish mind knew that Kadysse would reduce him to a smoldering cinder if he should fail. It had been the same with Venger.
So, it was with no small amount of concern for his own neck that the Orc's attention suddenly became alerted to what was going on in the cell a short distance down the hall. A young girl was imprisoned there. Hardly as troublesome as Dungeon Master's former Young Ones from long ago, but Lady Kadysse had still wanted her watched carefully -- until she was ready to deal with the girl. It had been quite a long time since one of his fellow guards had brought a cold plate of gruel for her, and even longer before the Orc heard her slide the plate across the floor to actually eat. He didn't care enough to look. It was the same for most any prisoner.
It was the sounds that carried down from the cell afterwards that alerted the Orc to his own safety -- The clatter of the plate on the floor, several loud gasping coughs, followed by muffled wheezing. The guard rose from his chair and plodded down the hall to peer into the cell. The blonde youth was doubled over on her knees, one hand grasping the stone floor of the dungeon and the other clutching at her neck as she began retching noiselessly, gasping for air.
The Orc fumbled with his keys. If he was punished by Kadysse because this stupid girl didn't know how to feed herself without choking . . . .
He lumbered to the center of the room where the girl had begun to turn a pale shade of blue as her lungs were denied more and more air. The Orc, not knowing what else to do, pointed a commanding finger at her. "You stop now!" he raged, as though the girl's situation was as easy to turn off as it was to douse a light. This was his neck on the line, after all.
The girl, her mouth gaping and her hand at her throat, motioned to the plate of gruel on the floor in front of her. "What wrong?" the Orc roared again. "You stop now!" She cast her watery eyes toward the guard and pointed desperately toward the plate again. With a growl of disgust, the Orc leaned down to inspect the gruel.
The girl quickly slid her hands under the plate, lifting it and sending the contents into the Orc's face. The guard howled in shock as he shot to his feet and attempted to clear the gruel from his eyes. The girl stumbled to her feet as well, skittering along behind him and shoving him with her foot headlong into the corner of the cell. She scooped up the keys and scrambled toward the door; sliding through, pulling it closed, and locking it from the outside.
Ayesha panted, finally catching her breath and deeply inhaling the air that she had been denying herself, as the Orc found his bearings and clambered to the door. He snarled at her through the window of the cell, sloppy gruel dripping from his face. The Paladin turned and raced the few feet down the hall to where the two weapons lay. She picked them up, fastened her sword hilt to her belt, and gripped Bobby's large club with both arms.
Upon running back in the other direction, toward the dungeon door, Ayesha paused in front of the cell that now held her former captor. She smirked at him. "Sucker!" she quipped as she tossed the keys into a grating in the floor and ran off to find her Uncle Bobby.
* * *
Bobby eyed Kadysse belligerently as she turned from the smoldering hole in the floor to face him. Her lips parted in a sultry smile. "I've had just about enough of this!" he growled. "Where the hell am I? And what have you done with my niece?"
Kadysse's smile widened. "That is what I do like about you, Barbarian," she said as she walked the length of the room to stand directly in front of him, "So brave, so strong. Your loyalties are to be commended . . . however misdirected they may be."
Bobby formed a confused sneer as the dark woman's eyes pierced into his. Under normal circumstances, he would have a lot more to say -- be much more demanding, more hostile. But for some reason, for as evil as he knew she was, the Barbarian felt a hypnotic calm when he looked at her. With a thought of Ayesha, he managed to steel himself and try to summon a commanding voice. "What are you talking about?"
Much to Bobby's dismay, the commanding voice that he had attempted to summon came out as more of a whisper . . . . He even inhaled his last word as Kadysse stroked a finger under his chin. What the hell was wrong with him? His head throbbed as he tried to focus.
"I am going to give you a rare opportunity, Barbarian," she said to him as she lowered her eyes and playfully toyed with the studs on his leather chest straps. With her eyes cast away from his, Bobby was able to regain more clarity. He glanced around the room in the hopes of finding something, anything, to get him out of this so he could find Ayesha.
Nothing. There was nothing here but circular stone walls and the steaming pit in the floor -- like the one Venger used to have in his old fortress.
As he turned his head forward once again, it came into direct alignment with Kadysse's feline yellow eyes. Bobby swallowed hard and she smiled. "I am going to give you the chance to join forces with me," she hissed at him beguilingly. "To fight for me . . . to vanquish and destroy this accursed Realm and its bottom-dwelling inhabitants."
Bobby still had the mental faculties to scoff at her presumptuous offer, and might have even been amused if his head wasn't swimming in so much pain. As it was, he raised a cocky eyebrow to her and said, "Just what makes you think that I would want to do a thing like that?"
Kadysse took a step back away from him. "I have my own ways of convincing," she stated as she placed her hands on her hips. "But think for a moment, Barbarian. What do you care of this world?" Her smile widened and she gave him a nod. "I know all about you. Did you think we would not know? The Master that I serve knows all, sees all, and, when it suits Him, destroys all. This place stole your childhood from you. Can you honestly admit to me that you would feel sadness at its annihilation?"
Bobby managed to tear his eyes away from her and jerked at his chains again. "I hate to burst your bubble, lady, but Venger sent us to stop you!"
Kadysse's lips curled over her teeth and a rumbling noise rose up from her throat. It started out low, then grew to fill the entire chamber with malevolent laughter and echoed wickedly in Bobby's ears. "Venger?" she cackled tauntingly, her voice wracked with amusement. Without warning, she thrust her hand forward and caught the Barbarian by the throat, a look of fury suddenly erupting behind her eyes. "The once mighty Venger, the new so-called Dungeon Master of the Realm, is a weak fool!" she snarled. "And he thinks far too highly of himself!"
Bobby could do nothing but wince in pain as the woman's nails dug like claws into the sides of his throat. But that wasn't the worst of it. It felt as though another hand was reaching into his brain, trying to tear his own thoughts out. He gritted his teeth and managed to open one eye to glare at Kadysse. Her exotic beauty was still there, heightened, if possible, by her growing wrath.
"Venger must truly think himself a paragon of power if he believes that the -- children -- who defeated him can vanquish us as well! We shall rip his beloved Realm out from under him!" she growled, lessening her hold on Bobby's neck. The Barbarian gasped for air as the Dark Mistress's hand slid to the side of his face. His throat was free, but the pain in his head was still there. He shuddered as she drew nearer to him.
"You are no match for us, boy," she said, her voice suddenly soft again, "But you do have the chance to taste the glory that will soon come to this accursed Realm." She raised her eyebrow at Bobby's obvious pain. "It hurts less when you surrender to the inevitable, Barbarian. No man has ever been able to resist me. They have fought wars for me. Died for me. Vanquished their loved ones for me. Much of the Realm has already been destroyed . . . for me. Do not try to tell me that you would not want to be a part of that." When he could only stare hatefully at her, she added, "You will change your mind about me, Barbarian. I promise you."
Bobby made a weak noise as he stared into Kadysse's eyes. Her face was very near to his own now. A lock of her scarlet hair brushed his cheek and his body shivered. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew what she was doing. She was breaking him down, making him weaker so he couldn't resist her no matter how much he wanted to. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to stop her. The problem was that every other part of his brain was fighting that logic; the parts of his mind that Kadysse already seemed to have a literal hold on with her ghostly hand. This must have been what happened to the inhabitants of the Realm -- forced to fight each other after being corrupted and seduced by her siren song. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Barbarian knew he had to resist this. But for how long?
Kadysse seemed to be able to sense his resolve and smiled wickedly. This Young One's willpower was far stronger than she had originally thought. He would be a most triumphant conquest, indeed. She caressed the side of the Barbarian's face briefly before pulling him into a passionate kiss.
Blackness engulfed Bobby's mind like an icy shroud and he could feel conscious thoughts leaving him. His body flooded with cold, almost as though his blood was a rush of liquid ice that flowed from the point where Kadysse's lips were pressed to his. He was quickly losing the will to focus, to think, to resist. Brief flashes of memory came and went like scenes from a long forgotten movie. People, places, things that he had seen and done were all steadily melding together, blurring the boundaries between truth and fiction. Bobby saw faces of people he knew fading into darkness. Hank! Sheila! Ayesha! They were leaving him . . . and would soon be gone. Kadysse's face was boring its way into the front of his mind. Bobby hated it, but any power to stop it seemed to be leaving him like rushing water through a wide drain.
But somewhere . . . in the back of his mind . . . one thing remained. Something that the Barbarian held onto with ties tighter than memory, tighter than anything. Something that he promised himself that he would never let go of again. Something that he loved, more than his own life . . . .
. . . Teri . . .
Kadysse released Bobby from her embrace and focused her golden eyes on him. The Barbarian's seemed glassed over and far away. She curled a corner of her mouth triumphantly. "Tell me, Barbarian," she whispered alluringly, "What do you think of me now?"
"I . . . ," he began hazily, to which Kadysse replied with a cold and victorious sneer. Bobby brought his eyes up to meet hers, a steely glint suddenly sparking from them. "I think you're nuts, lady!" he growled darkly. "Completely certifiable! Now, where the hell's my niece?"
Unmitigated fury flashed across Kadysse's face. She raised her hand toward Bobby, which began to glow with the same white hot energy that she had first released upon him. "You dare!" she hissed. "No one denies me!" As the light intensified, Bobby could feel the violent pain filling his head once more, like she was again trying to reach right inside his brain.
Bobby tried unsuccessfully to stifle an agonized grunt of pain behind his teeth. He turned his watery eyes toward the witch in front of him. "You think -- I wouldn't -- rather -- die?" he spat between pants of agony.
Kadysse's anger mixed with hostile amusement as she began to laugh. "It seems, young Barbarian, that you are not as weak-hearted as I thought," she snarled back at him as he continued to writhe under the pain of her onslaught. "However, your powers of perception leave much to be desired." She brought her face very near to his again and intensified her spell. "You see," she whispered, "You will die. Of that there was never any doubt. It was the manner of death that was in question. Either for me --"
She sent a shocking jolt that caused Bobby to almost scream in pain.
"-- in glory. Or against me --"
Another jolt and another growl of pain.
"--in anguish!"
Bobby's body was rigid under the strength of her spell, his teeth tightly clenched. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He managed to open his eyes and stare the vile witch down with insane rancor. He could feel his body and mind weakening with each passing second -- seconds that passed like years. He cursed himself for not being able to save--
"Get away from him, you witch!"
Bobby turned weakly toward the sound of the voice, his face paling. "Ayesha," he muttered through parched lips.
The Paladin was standing in the doorway far to Bobby's right, her sword blazing, gripped in both hands. She glowered coldly at the evil siren in the center of the room.
Fear cut into the Barbarian's joy of seeing his niece miraculously free. She shouldn't be here! She couldn't be here! She had to save herself! "Ayesha!" he called out weakly through the mindless torment, his voice so hoarse that he barely recognized it. "Run! GO!"
Ayesha ignored his pleas and rooted herself to where she stood, never taking her eyes off Kadysse. While the Paladin was not as brash nor as reckless as her Barbarian uncle, she had, whether she had formerly known it or not, every ounce of his courage. She held her blade aloft and pointed it warningly toward the Dark Mistress. "I said," she hissed, "Get - away - from - him!"
"Ayesha!" Bobby cried again, summoning more strength into his voice, "Get out of here!"
Kadysse glared at the insolent young intruder. How dare she? The woman shifted her gaze between the Paladin and the Barbarian, forming a wicked smile as she slid her eyes away from the latter. "Very well, my dear," she sneered at Ayesha in a voice like poisoned silk, "With pleasure!"
The Dark Mistress' magic, which had been ravaging Bobby's mind, suddenly felt as though it was being removed. Then, with an evil snarl, Kadysse ripped her spell free of the Barbarian's brain, like a barbed arrow being torn from an entrance wound. Bobby screamed in agony before his nerveless legs gave out and he slumped in his chains, unmoving.
"NO!"
Ayesha felt terror erupt inside of her as she screamed, her heart freezing over. Her uncle looked dead, but there was no way to get to him right now to find out, as Kadysse was blocking her path. She held her sword with trembling hands and forced herself to face the evil creature in front of her -- alone. The Paladin managed to take a shaky step forward.
"Don't be a fool, girl," Kadysse growled at her as Ayesha raised her sword. "You needn't waste your life playing the Paladin in service of a weak Dungeon Master. I have destroyed most of your kind without so much as a whisper in their ear."
Ayesha glared angrily at the witch. "Yeah, well, I'm a woman," she said in a shaky voice that tried to summon bravery, "And I don't care too much about what you have to whisper about!"
Kadysse chuckled maliciously. "Woman?" she mused. "You are a mere child, girl. And a foolish one at that!" At which point, she released a barrage of violent energy toward the young Paladin.
Ayesha's blade almost seemed to take over, making its movements hers, as it parried the bolts that came at her. She yelped as she ducked out of the path of another and sent her own charge back in Kadysse's direction. The Mistress of War blocked it effortlessly with a shield of energy emitted from her palm. She sneered at the Young One.
"You are brave, girl. I shall grant you that," the evil woman stated. "Pity. Death often comes more painfully to the brave," she added with a wicked grin. "Just ask the young Barbarian when you see him . . . in oblivion!"
Kadysse's words ripped through Ayesha's heart like a searing flame. Oh, God, please, no! her brain screamed as she froze in her battle-ready stance, tears stinging her eyes. The Paladin's anger steeled her for the attacks that she knew were coming . . . .
She heard a sound fill the air, much like the discharge from her own weapon. It was followed by a shriek of protest from Kadysse as her arms suddenly became bound at her sides by a circle of yellow fiery light, cutting off the magic that she had been formulating. For a moment, Ayesha thought that her sword had done it, taking over her movements as it had done before. Then she heard the sound again, a surging hum of electric energy, and caught sight of two golden darts, flying through the air and shattering the chains that bound her uncle.
He hunched forward, but didn't fall, and for a moment Ayesha was seized by an intense relief that he was actually all right. But the Barbarian seemed to be eased to the ground by unseen hands, then lay there motionless.
Ayesha's eyes traveled the perimeter of the room, to the source of the golden energy, which seemed to have come from straight ahead. Even though she had managed to keep a tight grip on her weapon throughout the confrontation thus far, it nearly clattered out of her trembling fingers at the sight that met her eyes in the doorway behind the still-shrieking Kadysse.
A figure stood there; a man dressed in green studded leather, gripping a golden bow and leveling a sizzling arrow of pure flame at the Mistress of War. His blue eyes burned with a harsh fire as he stared down the shaft of his weapon to the back of his struggling enemy, before raising them to face the thunderstruck Paladin.
". . . Daddy? . . . ," Ayesha breathed, barely above a whisper, before screaming, "DADDY!"
The Ranger pushed his relief aside as Kadysse began to break free of his bondage. He shouted a command at his daughter, "Ayesha! The floor by the pit! On my mark!"
She nodded in understanding and turned her sword toward the floor at Kadysse's feet. Both Ranger and Paladin fired at the same time, blowing the ground out from beneath the Dark Mistress and sending her, screaming, into the smoldering crevice behind her. A trailing cry followed her down and was cut off abruptly as an explosion of smoke erupted from the hole, briefly taking the form of Kadysse -- a fanged, distorted version of the Dark Mistress.
"You shall pay for this!" the apparition howled at them before dissipating and vanishing into the ceiling of the Citadel of War.
In what seemed like an instant, Hank was at his daughter's side, clutching her tightly in his arms. He pulled away and touched her everywhere -- her face, her arms, her head, her face again -- looking for any sign of injury. "Oh, thank God!" he breathed as he pulled her to him again in a grateful embrace.
The Paladin finally allowed herself to cry. She dug her nails deep into the leather of Hank's tunic and wept, almost as a delayed reaction to all that she had seen and been through. For a brief moment she clung there, sobbing, before abruptly pulling a tear-streaked face away from her father. "Uncle Bobby!" she said desperately.
The two raced over to where the Barbarian lay. A blurry haze appeared beside him as Sheila pushed her cloak away from both she and Teri. "Mom!" Ayesha cried and fell into Sheila's arms. The Thief held her daughter tightly and all three women turned their attention to where Hank had fallen in beside Bobby.
"My God," Teri whispered, "What has she done to him?"
"Is he okay, Daddy?" Ayesha asked, her voice weepy as she clung to her mother.
The Ranger put his ear to Bobby's chest and, without a word, turned a ghostly pale. Sheila caught her breath and held Ayesha tighter, waiting for Hank to meet her eyes; to give her something -- anything.
Oh, God, Hank whispered inwardly. God, Bobby, don't do this to us, pal!
Teri leaned in close to Hank and muttered the Ranger's name. He tried not to look at her, but slowly did anyway, with eyes that were like ice. A wave of despair came crashing over the Dreamer and her mind was a torrent of fear and panic. She tried not to let any enter her face as she turned to Sheila, who was holding Ayesha's head close to her shoulder.
Gripped by a sudden and fierce determination, Teri eased closer to the fallen Barbarian and whispered the young man's name. "Teri," Hank said pleadingly, gently catching her arm. The girl reflexively shot a stricken glare in the Ranger's direction. He sounded almost defeated. How could he? Her eyes ignited briefly before she turned them softly back to Bobby, and said his name again.
"Teri," Hank repeated. His face was still pallid and seemed to get grayer by the second as he attempted to formulate the words that the Dreamer needed to hear. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want Sheila to hear, either. And Ayesha. After everything that had happened -- everything that she must have already been through. He slowly raised his eyes to his wife, who was trembling. "He's--"
"I didn't see it," Teri interrupted as she reached out to touch Bobby's colorless face. She looked back up at Hank with firm resolve. "I would have seen this!" she insisted. "I know it. I would have felt it." As she said the words, Teri knew them to be true. Even without her true dreams of the future, she always seemed to be able to tell when something was happening with Bobby. Like when she warned him not to go to the party where he ended up tearing the cartilage in his knee. She didn't have to 'see' where Bobby was concerned. She could feel. And today, she hadn't felt a rift where Bobby used to be . . . at least not yet. He hadn't left her -- couldn't have left her. She turned back to the still Barbarian and clutched her locket tightly. "Bobby? Can you hear me?"
Nothing.
Teri squeezed back tears and tried again. "Bobby, please." She practically tried to force warmth through her fingertips to permeate the young man's chilled flesh. "Come on, Bobby." Outside, her voice radiated determination -- stubborn denial, perhaps -- but what sounded like determination, nonetheless. Inside, however, the girl's heart was screaming. It wasn't fair. Not him.
For days, Teri had been battling the crippling fear of arriving too late, which, as she had told Sheila the night before, had happened several times already. But not this. It didn't seem possible. Please, God! After all they had been through . . . all the traveling, all the Dreams, all the sequestered fear . . . . To have found him at last -- too late.
No. NO! Bobby, you can't be dead! Please!
Teri finally spoke again, her voice steady and even -- almost commanding. "Robert Patrick O'Brien, I want you to listen to me," she stated. "You're not finished yet, do you hear me? You have people here who need you. I need you!"
She took a conscious breath, as though she would have forgotten otherwise, and drew closer to him. "You made me a promise, Bobby the Barbarian. You said that this place wouldn't take you away from me again. Not now. Not ever. Remember? I expect you to keep that promise -- just like you did before." Teri was now oblivious to anyone else in the room as she tried to coax, who she knew to be, the only love of her life back from the precipice of mortality. She knew that there were three others with her, one of which being Bobby's sister who was trying desperately to bury her own anguish for the sake of her daughter. But right now, Teri's only focus was Bobby.
"We've spent our entire lives finding each other again," she said, a gentle catch to her voice. "This is where we first met. And you came back to me from the Realm years ago, just like I saw in my dream -- just like I knew you would. Then I came back to you after my semester away. Just like I promised. Now it's your turn, Bobby . . . it's your turn . . . it's your turn . . . ." Teri hadn't realized how close she drew to him with every word, but, as she unconsciously repeated her last statement, she found herself nearly on top of his recumbent form, practically covering him with the blanket of her own body, trying to lend warmth to his chilled skin as her fingers gripped her heart-shaped pendant tighter.
"Please, Bobby," she finally broke down, her voice scarcely a whisper, "Please don't leave me . . . . I love you."
Sheila finally lost her grip on the heart-wrenching sob that she had been trying to hold in. She felt Hank's arms wrap around her as she stifled another. Lord, this couldn't be happening! Not to her little brother. She squeezed Ayesha tighter and opened her eyes, blurry with tears. Light danced before her vision, enhanced and magnified by the droplets lingering about her lashes. As she blinked the tears out, she saw the light's source; not from torches or candles or the smoking pit in the center of the room, but from beneath the Dreamer's fingers. "Teri!" she gasped hoarsely.
Teri hadn't heard her. She had buried her face in Bobby's shoulder, pressing her cheek to his, as the locket in her grip continued to glow with an ethereal light. The Dreamer hardly noticed the warmth that the glowing pendant added to her already hot, clenched hand, but as her fist rested against Bobby's chest, the heat from it seemed to lend itself to his cold body. Sheila held her breath as some of the color returned to the Barbarian's waxen face. What was happening?
Teri heard a small, weak sigh in her ear and she froze. Her breath and heart seemed to stop at the same time as she lifted her face only inches away from its place against Bobby's cheek -- listening. She could feel a coolness against her face as the air hit the moist tears that had dampened it. Her heart then felt as though it would pound right through her chest, at a thousand miles an hour, when she heard a much-cherished voice mutter, "I love you, too."
Teri's head darted up to hover over Bobby's face. Her tears seemed to have instantly stopped as she stared wide-eyed at him, although they still left shimmering tracks down her face which shone in the light of her still-glowing necklace. "Bobby?" she breathed. The Barbarian didn't speak again, but answered nonetheless as he weakly opened his eyes and gave a wan half smile.
Teri's tears started again, joyfully this time, as she gave an euphoric cry and hurled herself at him, smothering his face with kisses.
"Take it easy, Teri," Bobby groaned. "You know how I feel about the gushy stuff." In spite of his words, the Barbarian raised a weary arm and pressed the Dreamer to his chest with as much strength as he could force into it. By that point, Hank and the others were hovering over Bobby as well, grateful and relieved tears shining in their own eyes.
Sheila breathed a heavy sigh and hugged Ayesha, who was now overwhelmed with thankful sobs. The Thief only let out half of her breath before remembering something -- something that Venger had told them when they first arrived; his reason for not giving Teri a weapon: "You carry your greatest asset with you, Dreamer," Venger's words echoed in her mind. "Keep your heart open. It will provide aid when you need it the most." Sheila slowly realized that, while Teri's dreams were indeed a great advantage, they were not her greatest asset. That honor belonged to her heart -- and the love stored there for Bobby. It had its own magic, its own power, stronger than any weapon she could have been given. Sheila released the rest of her breath in a silent prayer of thanks.
Teri finally backed off, and Bobby looked at all of them as he tried to sit up. Hank and Sheila attempted to help, regardless of the Barbarian's proud protests and declarations that he was all right. "What are you doing here?" he said.
"What do you think?" Sheila retorted as she wiped her eyes.
"You sent me to get them, remember?" Teri added.
Bobby tilted his head to his sister with a gentle, loving smile. "I know why you're here, Sis," he assured her. "What are you doing here?" His question was aimed at Teri, but his eyes were cast accusingly in Hank's direction.
"Excuse me!" Teri replied. "Don't go blaming Hank. He tried twice to keep me from coming. But I hope you didn't even think that I was about to leave you here without me -- again!" She paused for a moment before turning a cold shoulder to Bobby. "Barbarian!" she muttered.
Bobby's hand melted her frigidity as it lightly touched her shoulder. The teary-eyed Dreamer turned and buried herself into his chest -- the sound of his beating heart pulsing like music in her ear.
Ayesha finally gravitated to Bobby's side. "Uncle Bobby," she said as he looked down at her and gathered her under his other arm.
"Hey, Honey," he murmured, placing a kiss atop her head. He wasn't sure if he was furious with her for not getting out when he told her to, or if he couldn't be prouder of her for staying. At the moment, he didn't care. All he knew was that she was safe.
Safe? Oh, God! Bobby suddenly stiffened as he remembered where they were; a movement that prompted both Ayesha and Teri to sit up straight. He attempted to rise to his feet. "Take it easy, Bobby," Hank warned as he reached out to support the Barbarian.
"What happened?" Bobby demanded in a labored grunt as he gripped the Ranger's arm to steady himself. "Where is she?" he added with a hateful growl.
"Kadysse is gone," Hank informed him, "For now, at least. Eric and Diana went to find Toby and John and Presto and Varla stayed behind at Tardos Keep to free Uni."
"Varla's okay?" Ayesha broke in.
Sheila nodded reassuringly and the Paladin visibly looked as though a weight had been lifted. She had been frantic about her new friend ever since the cave-in.
Bobby scowled and clenched his jaw. Uni! "We gotta go," he announced as he took a limping step toward the door through which Hank, Sheila and Teri had entered the chamber. The Ranger maintained his hold on Bobby to keep him steady. Teri appeared at his other side and offered her shoulder as support as well.
"You're in no condition to travel," Sheila fretted over him.
Bobby turned a sturdy eye to his sister. "I'll be fine," he insisted. The Paladin appeared beside him holding his club, which she had dropped in the doorway when she challenged Kadysse. He gratefully accepted it and softly stroked Ayesha's hair with a smile. "Besides, I'll feel better when they're safe," he added, never removing his eyes from the teenaged girl beside him. "All of them."
Ayesha fell in beside her mother and the two women embraced again. For a moment, Sheila was reluctant to let the girl go. Ayesha drew away and wiped her eyes, scrutinizing her mother's attire, still disbelieving of her family's double life. "I'm so glad to see you, Mom," the young Paladin whispered, hugging Sheila again. As she pulled away the second time, she spoke with a teary laugh. "You think after all this, I might finally be able to go out without a chaperone?"
"Sweetheart," Sheila said as she tenderly wiped the tears from Ayesha's cheeks, "I am so proud of you. I want you to know that. But," she added with a tearful smile of her own, "After all this, you'll be lucky if I ever let you out of my sight again!"
* * *
The sight was strange but familiar at the same time. Venger's old fortress, which had previously been destroyed as the battle at Realm's Edge concluded all those years ago, now stood once again on the same barren, desolate land to which the Young Ones often found themselves journeying. Whether it had been to find someone, to retrieve something, or to rescue one of their own, each time they appeared at the Dark Lord's door, it had been with the same ultimate goal: to find a way home.
Now, as Eric and Diana stared at the towering fortress, their goal was somewhat different. They were here to save two children. Children who, like them, hadn't been given a choice; Children who didn't deserve to loose their childhood; Children who meant more to them than life itself; And children for whom, although it went unspoken, they would willingly give up ever seeing their home again. Both Eric and Diana knew that this was an extreme possibility, especially since they had no idea what to expect once they were inside. They had indeed faced many challenges within those walls in the past. But this was no longer Venger's game. And a change in players could very well mean never seeing the light of another day. They pushed these thoughts from their minds as they made their way closer to the castle's portcullis.
"Mordreth," Eric muttered with equal parts fear and rage. "Which one of the three do you think he is?"
"Well," Diana replied, never removing her eyes from the castle, "'Mort' means 'death.' So my guess is he's the even-tempered, shy one."
Eric scowled. "Sorry," the Acrobat returned with a flimsy smile. She eyed the Orcs posted at the main entrance. "So, what's the plan?"
The Cavalier glared at the dark fortress. Over the years, he had become quite adept at filling the executive role at his father's company. The leadership that he often desired as a teenager (desired, ran from, but eventually shouldered expertly) was like second nature to the man he had become. But now, standing in the shadow of this fortress of ultimate evil, Eric's mind automatically registered that he wished Hank were here.
"Ideas?"
Eric turned to her. "There's two of us, and two of them," he noted. "We could fight our way in." He turned back to the Orcs as if he were sizing them up, then shrugged. "But what's to stop us from just walking in?"
Diana glared at him as though the Cavalier had just claimed to want to build a summer home here. "And what would the real plan be?"
Eric's trademark smirk flashed across his face. "Watch and learn!" he said as he began to rise from his hiding place. Diana grabbed his arm and yanked him back down.
"Are you nuts?!" she demanded. "You can't just waltz up there! They'll tear you to pieces!"
"Nah," Eric muttered dismissively with a swipe of his hand through the air, "Remember what Venger said? It's been over two hundred years since we've been back here. Those bozos won't remember us!" He raised his head over the rocks behind which they were hiding to get a look at the green sentries again. "Besides," he added, "I don't think all the time in the world would be enough to strengthen an Orc's mental muscle!"
"It's not their mental muscle I'm worried about," Diana grumbled as she gripped her javelin.
Eric grinned again, rising to his feet in full view of the Orcs. "Trust me," he assured her, then strode toward the Orcs with Diana in tow.
* * *
Toby shot an angry glare at the Orc behind both he and John. The two boys had been removed from their cell and were being led through the dank hallways of the fortress dungeon.
"Where're you taking us, anyway?" John demanded, putting words to Toby's thoughts.
"Master Mordreth deal with you, humans," the Orc answered with a snort.
"What if I'm not too keen on meeting with your 'Master'?" John grumbled, which earned the young boy a shove from behind.
"Take it easy, John," Toby murmured as he reached out to grab the boy before he tripped. "That's not gonna help us get out of this!" The group of three had begun to ascend an unrailed stone staircase that spiraled up toward the dungeon door on the upper wall.
"Get offa me!" John growled as he yanked his arm free of Toby's grip. "You and your bright ideas! We're no closer to getting out now than we were hours ago!"
"Prisoners, be quiet!" the Orc roared as he shoved both of them from behind with his horizontally-held spear. They stumbled on the stairs, but continued climbing.
"Yeah, well, at least I tried to think of a way out!" Toby retorted. "Is it my fault you didn't like it?"
John scoffed hotly. "It's your fault that we're here to begin with!" he hissed absently as he trudged up the stairs.
Toby stopped, yanking John's shoulder around so the boy would stop and face him. "I know you're not bringing all that up again!" he snarled. "What a comeback, Johnny Boy! Especially since you're just full of ideas yourself! You're a regular think-tank, aren't you?"
"Prisoners, keep moving!" the Orc roared again, but made no move to push them this time.
"Look who's talking!" the Squire sneered as Toby took a step past him and turned around to face the boy. "If you're so smart, get us out of this, genius!" John shot his hand out and shoved Toby in the arm.
"Quiet, you!" the Orc tried to interrupt again, but it was a half-hearted effort. Something about the two youths bickering mindlessly had the brute very amused.
"Don't touch me, Squire, I'm warning you!" Toby said in a cold and steady voice.
"What? You mean like this?" John returned mockingly as he repeatedly jabbed at the Fighter's shoulder, cautiously pulling back each time. "What're you gonna do to me, huh?"
"I mean it, kid," Toby admonished him, visibly holding in his hostility, "You don't want to get me going!"
"Oh, like I'm really gonna be more scared of you than this Mordreth guy we're going to see!" John jeered. "C'mon then, tough guy, you're supposed to be a 'Fighter,' so fight! What's the matter? Chicken?"
"You're askin' for a heap of trouble, little boy! You've been askin' for it since we met!"
John paid him no mind. "Bawk, bawk, bawk!" The Squire stood on his toes to get in Toby's face, at least as well as he could while standing on the step below the Fighter. "Nothing but a big purple chicken in that stupid purple getup of yours!"
Toby didn't respond, but stared hotly at the antagonizing boy and balled up a fist.
John smirked, a derisive swaggering grin that seemed to run in his family. "So tell me," he mused with a sarcastic air of self-satisfaction, "You think the DM raided the 'Barney the Dinosaur Collection' to find that for you?"
"THAT'S IT!" Toby made a lunge forward.
The Orc suddenly snapped away from the entertaining exhibition and back to his duty. "Prisoners, be . . . !"
"DUCK!"
John hit the stairs as Toby's arm swung over his head; the metal-laden cestus surrounding his fist impacting against the Orc's snout and sending their captor sailing back and tumbling down the steps, dropping his spear in the process. Toby stepped over John's prone form to pick it up, then grabbed the Squire by the scruff of the shirt and hoisted him to his feet. "Let's move!" he commanded.
The two boys tore the rest of the way up the stairs. "Next time . . . ," John said between pants, ". . . You be the bratty one! . . . . Deal?"
"Only if you promise to be big enough to take that Orc down the next time!" Toby shot back, favoring his hand, which had been numbed by the blow. "And don't you think you went a little far with that Barney the Dinosaur thing?"
"Can we talk about it later?!?" John wailed. "We have to find our weapons and get outta here!"
"At least . . . ," Toby said, also out of breath as they ran, " . . . At least we have something to defend ourselves with." He weighed the spear in his hands as though testing it for throwing. "Until we find our own--" The Fighter skidded to a halt as he rounded the next corner, reaching a protective arm out to stop John as well. The two boys froze as they found themselves face to face with what looked to be an entire troop of Orcs.
"I-I don't know if that spear's gonna do any good," John whimpered nervously.
Toby held the spear up to chest height and made eye contact with the first sneering Orc. "Then there's only one thing to do," he growled.
"What's that?"
"Scatter!" Toby snapped as he shoved John down a perpendicular hallway. The Fighter stood in front of the passage to block the boy's escape from the Orcs, then tried to get them to follow him instead as he bolted back in the direction from which he had originally come.
* * *
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Additional Author's Notes: My apologies to Presto fans. His absence from this chapter was a minor casualty of the editing and revising process. The Magician will be back full-force in Part 9! (After all, only one Force-of-Evil is down. Two to go!) Stay tuned! *G*