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
Points of Interest: Happy un-Birthday to Legacy! As of September 2002, I've been posting this story for one year! Hooray! ("Un-birthday," though, since I've been writing it for much longer than that!) In recognition, I'd like to say a heartfelt thanks again to anyone and everyone who's helped me at some point in this undertaking – "EQ," Heidi, Alavahr, Kimmy, Tarvok, Chance, John W., and everyone who has taken time out of their real-life schedules to offer up a little feedback (whether on this site or by emailing me personally). You are all wonderful, and I thank you!
Hope this latest chapter continues to please! Ahead, find more battles, levitation, pick-pocketing, returning evil forces, disappearing acts, and, of course, some lovely "gushy stuff!" (Though if, like me, you're patiently waiting for a little Eric/Diana action, that "ship" is still temporarily docked. We'll be setting sail very shortly, though! So please help yourself to some complimentary pastries, a beverage, and a bit of B/T while you wait! *wink*)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEGACYChapter 11 – Tardos Keep
Nervous sweat caused his broken glasses to slide down the bridge of his nose, but Presto made no move to fix them. He didn't want to budge. He had pressed himself as far into the corner between the fountain and the floor as he could and stared up over the top of his drooping spectacles at the huge green blurs above him. His chest ached from fitting himself against the crumbled marble fountain in a position that put painful pressure on his injuries. But at least the shallow breaths that he was forced to take didn't add to the throes in his ribcage. He tried to swallow down what felt like a lump of cotton in his mouth and continued to stare at the Orc shapes that hovered over him. Dumb or not, it would only be a matter of moments before the lumbering brutes looked down. And that would be that.
Come on, Varla, the Magician's mind pleaded, It's now or never!
When he could no longer stand the sliding glasses, and his inability to see, Presto's will broke and he reached up cautiously to adjust them. As the world came back into focus, so did the faces of the Orcs as they stared straight down at him. Presto's newfound clarity was accompanied by pigish snorts from the creatures above. "D-don't mind me, fellas," he stammered. "I don't suppose I could convince you that I'm just looking for a good place to watch the festivities."
One of the Orcs brought his spear down to Presto's nose. "Guess not," the Magician chuckled nervously. The spear pressed closer, prompting Presto to rise shakily to his feet, still gripping his side. Come on, Dr. Presto! he thought to himself. You've got an MD! What do they have? The answer came in the form of sharpened metal settling an inch below his throat. They have brute strength and Ginsu knives on long sticks! Presto answered his own question with a gulp. Guess that answers that!
He glanced around, only with his eyes, to see if Varla had been captured as well. Not catching sight of her, he figured that she must be having trouble with her magic. He certainly understood how that felt. But if the magic was out of commission for the time being, Presto had no choice but to use his head to get out of this. Bane hadn't noticed him as yet and was still focusing on Uni. The four suns of the Realm had nearly filled the window above her. If the Magician was going to make a move, now was the time!
Presto drew a sharp breath of surprise and pointed past the Orcs toward the unicorn. "Oh, no! You're missing it!" he hissed. The two green guards turned, so as not to miss their Master's ceremony, and Presto made a break for it -- too slow. His bruised ribs slowed him down considerably and he was unable to maneuver past the Orcs before they turned to face him again. He stared up into their beady eyes and they snarled. I'm in trouble, Presto droned inwardly.
Just then, the Orcs' eyes suddenly vanished and Presto was taken aback as the two beasts began wrestling with their helmets, which had somehow slammed down to cover their faces. The Magician was forced to take a step back as the blinded Orcs dropped their spears and struggled to raise the metal shieldings away from their eyes. When Presto finally regained his presence of mind, he heard a voice in his head. "Run, Presto! Go!"
It was Varla.
Presto didn't pause to think about whether it would hurt or not. Nor did he waste time running around the struggling Orcs. He clambered over the fountain in an attempt to run between them. He suddenly felt himself being lifted awkwardly up, every stumbling stride that he made falling on an invisible step to some invisible stairway, and he realized that his daughter was at it again. As he passed the two Orcs, he gained some height and leverage by placing a hand on each of their helmets, sending them face-first into the sludge in the fountain and pushing himself higher into the air, out of reach of the other Orcs who began grabbing for him. Bane turned his head to face the hovering Magician. Like it or not, Presto thought, Here comes the direct approach! And he made sprinting strides through the air toward Uni.
Bane turned fully from his task, his scaled hand aglow, and Presto halted in midair. "Wizard!" Bane hissed through his serpent's teeth, "You are proving to be a greater nuisance than I had thought." With that, he swiped his taloned hand through the air, sending a boomerang of energy toward Presto. The Orcs reaching for him scrambled away from the blast and Presto wailed as Varla's spell clumsily dropped him lower, just out of range of Bane's magic. Another followed in rapid succession and the Magician leapt forward to get out of its way. He grunted in pain as he fell flat. Although he had struck nothing but the air below him, Varla's levitation spell made it feel just as solid as any surface. Presto was a few moments in lifting himself.
It was long enough for the Lord of the Plague to realize something -- the Magician was still without his hat. "You are too late, Wizard," Bane taunted Presto as he struggled to get up. "In a matter of moments the unicorn shall join those parts of the Realm that have already succumbed to my pestilence. I shall have my dark steed, and her power shall be mine to control . . . as is yours already." He nodded toward the hat at his belt. A corner of Presto's jaw began to throb as he clenched it, staring the creature down.
"You shall fail, Wizard. For, as you can see, you have nothing with which to stop me." Bane's fangs bore themselves as he sneered wickedly. "Your magic is weak. And what little you do have . . . mere illusion." And he swiped his hand through the air again, sending a bolt careening toward Presto. Varla shot him up like a rocket, her undisciplined magic propelling him just out of the spell's reach as fast as she could and stopping him just as quickly. Presto could feel the radiant whoosh of Bane's blast as it passed just beneath his hovering form. It wasn't until the bolt failed to disintegrate, as the last ones had, that Presto realized that Bane had not been aiming for him.
He spun his face around to see the stream of magic head straight for the archway where his daughter was hiding. He had no time to cry out to her before the bolt struck. A violent explosion and a scream met Presto's ears and he felt Varla's spell die as he plummeted to the floor, striking it with an agonizing jolt.
Varla? Presto tried to get her to answer him; tried to reach her with his thoughts. Varla? She had heard nearly everything he had been thinking before. Oh, God, where was she now? He clawed at the ground below him as he fought painfully to raise himself. Varla? The Magician managed to turn his head in the direction from which he had come, seeing nothing but a sea of snickering Orcs and what was left of the decimated archway. "VARLA!" he screamed. His thoughts were no longer enough.
"Do not despair, Wizard," he could hear Bane's voice hiss coldly, "You will not be long in joining her. But not before you witness the beginning of the end -- of this Realm and, soon, the entire cosmos!" Presto touched the colorful scarf that was wrapped around his upper arm and winced in anguish at the thought of his daughter as he turned his trembling head back to the Dark Lord, who was invoking the power of the noon suns. "Behold! The time has come!"
Uni shrieked in panic.
"You monster!" Presto was up in a flash, much to the shock of the surrounding Orcs, who must have thought him down for the count or they may have made a move to stop him. He sped toward his enemy, every step forcing an aching grunt from deep within his chest, although his conscious mind no longer registered the pain. And with his last bit of adrenaline, he dove at Bane.
The Dark Lord reached out effortlessly and caught the Magician just above his sternum, his other arm not deviating from its task as it formulated the corrosive magic needed to infect Uni. Presto's hands reached fruitlessly for his enemy as Bane twisted his talons into the collar of the Magician's robes and held him out at arm's length. "Again, your foolish emotions have gotten the better of you," he hissed.
After a second, the Lord of the Plague drew his arm toward him, yanking Presto with it, so that he might lower his dragon-like face close to the Magician's. "It is a great fool who does not know when he is defeated, Wizard. But if it is greater suffering that you wish, you shall have it." With a mighty shove up and out, Bane hurled Presto backward, where he came to rest in the sludgy Dragonbane at Uni's feet. He slumped against her legs and the unicorn nudged him weakly, sorrowfully.
Bane raised both hands to them as the noon suns streamed through the opening above, lighting the circumference all around them. Under the power of the Dark Lord's spell, the light hitting that circle of ground changed to a grisly shadow and the plant life below writhed grotesquely. "You shall join this beast in tasting the poison that shall soon infect the entire Realm!" Bane snarled.
"I don't think so," a voice murmured weakly from ahead of him. Bane glared amusedly at the downed Magician, who was stirring feebly, squinting in the bright sun that shone down on him from overhead.
"And just how, my pitiful enemy, do you plan to stop me?" The Dark Lord flashed a sinister triumphant grin.
Presto returned with an insolent sneer of his own. "Magic!" he spat as he lifted his hat for the evil one to see. Bane's eyes widened as he turned his attention to his belt, where the magic hat used to be, extracted from his possession by a mere slight-of-hand -- mere Earth magic. In its place, draped over the belt, was, instead, a brightly-colored scarf. Varla's.
Presto's fingers twitched furiously over the mouth of his hat, his lips moving in an inaudible incantation. He closed his eyes and reached into the cone-shaped weapon, pulling out . . . a vanity mirror. One that looked as though it had been broken right off of the piece of furniture to which it had once been attached. Presto stared at it and Uni whimpered defeatedly.
Bane snarled. "Is that the best you can do, Wizard?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Your pathetic manifestations are as useless as the magic that conjures them!"
"Oh, really?" Presto grinned. "How about a closer look, Bane?" And he thrust the mirror skyward, reflecting the powerful light of the noon suns toward the Dark Lord of the Plague.
The beams of light engulfed him and Bane shrieked like a dying serpent as the pure energy of the Realm's suns bore down upon him. The same energy that infused the earth at this very spot to create the Dragonbane now served as the Magician's weapon as it surrounded the Master of the Plague, a half-dragon himself, with its uncorrupted power. As the poisonous shadow beneath Presto and Uni faded, the sunlight swallowed Bane completely and he faded away into a howling vapor, briefly reshaping himself long enough to threaten his revenge, then dissipating into the hazy air of the lower Keep.
The Mystic's colorful scarf fluttered to the ground on the spot where the Dark Lord had once stood.
Presto dropped the mirror from his trembling fingers and slouched against Uni's legs. The unicorn felt herself getting stronger immediately, as Bane's poisoned sinews melted away from her and the sunlight seemed to replenish her energy. She leaned down and nuzzled Presto with a velvet snout, but the Magician couldn't budge, save to mutter a single word, "Varla."
In the next instant, there she was. Presto glanced around as he and Uni suddenly found themselves back at the archway where the Magician had left his daughter. Uni must have teleported them there. Although Presto's worst fear was that the girl was trapped on the other side of the collapsed rock or, God forbid, underneath it, her present state didn't look much better.
Varla lay in a crumpled heap. Whether she had been blown out of the doorway or dove out to avoid the brunt of the blast, she was now unconscious, having struck her head on the fountain behind which Presto had been hiding earlier. The Magician used what felt like the last of his strength to crawl to her and pull her into his arms, urging her to open her eyes. "Come on, Baby. Come on, we won. Come--"
Presto's coaxing was cut off by a nicker of warning from above him. Uni alerted him to their, still, very dire situation. Bane may have disappeared, but his army of Orc soldiers was still present, accounted for, and advancing on them with weapons raised.
The Magician hugged his daughter tighter and struggled to get to his feet. His battered ribs forced him down and Presto lost his breath for a moment, realizing that he must have damaged them further during his scuffle with Bane. His power to move was gone.
"Daddy?" a soft voice came from below. Presto looked down into his daughters now-open, but bleary, eyes. Varla's line of vision shifted erratically, and she found it difficult to focus on anything. The stunned girl was able to make out her father's face and Uni's form above him. Everything else was an indistinguishable blur accompanied by the frightening roar of approaching Orcs. Varla refocused her gaze on Presto, her eyes wide with fear. "Daddy?"
Presto buried the relief that he felt at his daughter's awakening and forced his attention back on the Orcs. "Uni?" he choked out, "Can you teleport again right away?" The unicorn answered with a negative rattle in her throat. Although she was stronger, no unicorn had ever been able to teleport twice in one day.
Presto watched the approaching Orcs and tried to reach for his hat. He suddenly caught sight of a raised spear about to be released, abandoned his attempt to reach the hat, and squeezed his eyes shut, draping himself as far as he could over his daughter. Presto could hear nothing but the nearing sounds of snarling beasts.
Then nothing at all.
Suddenly everything was quiet. The snorting was gone, the clanging of weapons vanished, and the spear never struck him. Presto opened his tight eyelids to the sound of a grand and triumphant whinny from Uni behind him. As he looked up, the sight that met his eyes matched the one that had met his ears -- barrenness.
The Orcs were gone, the courtyard inside Tardos Keep was deserted . . . save for a lone figure standing in the center directly across from Presto. The Magician managed to slide his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stared at the man who had banished the Orcs.
"Venger."
* * *
Bobby O'Brien brought his cupped hand to his lips and drank. Even after so long, he hadn't realized just how thirsty he had been. It wasn't the foremost thing on his mind when he and the others left the Citadel of War; and even throughout the long trek to reach Alicorn River, his own fundamental needs were pushed to the back of his thoughts. However, now that they were here, the Barbarian couldn't ignore the tight, tugging sensation that ran from his throat to his stomach as it pleaded for water, and he immediately headed to the river for a drink.
As he wiped the droplets running down his chin, Bobby raised his eyes and looked across the Alicorn. The edge of the Wondrous Wood was still a ways ahead of them, and even after that, it was still many miles through the distant Dustlands before they reached Tardos Keep again. Even though he and the others had been walking for what felt like many hours now, their destination was still many more hours away; many more hours before he would know if Uni was safe. The Barbarian brought his hand down and swatted at the water, sending angry ripples colliding with the downstream current.
"We'll get there," said a gentle voice from beside him. Teri eased down onto the bank next to Bobby, draping her arm over his shoulders.
Bobby reached across his chest and gripped her hand tightly. "Then we need to get moving," he replied as he started to pull himself up. His efforts were met by a firm resistance from the arm across his upper back. He glanced in Teri's direction.
"You need a break. Hank and the others are finding something for us all to eat, first," she informed him, to which he began to shake his head. "How can you expect to rescue Uni if you don't have the energy to lift that club of yours?" she added good-naturedly. Bobby grinned; a sober grin.
"As long as we're waiting," the Dreamer began again, "I did want to tell you something, Bobby."
Bobby chuckled knowingly. "I know exactly what you're going to say, Ter," he told her, "I know I made a promise to you the other day when I told you that I wouldn't be going anywhere. Believe me, I'm eating my words right now and I know you were ri--"
"That's not it, Bobby," Teri quietly interrupted as she let her arm drop from across his shoulders. The Barbarian turned completely to her, looking his girlfriend fully in her eyes; eyes that were brimming with tears. "I never wanted to be right," she said, trying to control the quiver in her voice. "Do you think I didn't stay up for the rest of that night praying that I wasn't? This is not an 'I-Told-You-So,' Bobby. In fact, it's the farthest thing from it. This . . . this is an 'I'm Sorry.'" She turned her face away from him and closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Bobby."
"Hey," the Barbarian said gently as he reached for her hands, "You don't have anything to be sorry about. It was my carelessness that got my sorry butt transported here! I was the one who told you to ignore the dream, remember?" He tried to get her to smile, but his attempt at cheerfulness was lost on the Dreamer at that moment.
"You don't understand," she insisted, lowering her voice to almost a whisper, "I couldn't do anything! Nothing! I have this power -- this thing that I don't understand. I get these dreams that show me glimpses of the future, or shadows of a possible future, and they're supposed to help me in some way. But . . . ." Her voice trailed away as she breathed in deeply to stifle a sob. ". . . I couldn't use them to help you."
Bobby sighed and squeezed her hands tightly, looking down at them. "Teri . . . ."
"I saw everything, Bobby," she continued, "Everything that happened to you. I saw the vision that told me that you would be coming here to the Realm -- and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I saw you and the children journeying toward Tardos Keep -- and I didn't get there in time; couldn't get you to hear me. And when you were attacked at the Keep . . . I -- I saw what happened to you. I had never been so scared in my entire life -- and I still couldn't help you. These dreams are supposed to help, but all they did was foreshadow horrible things that I wouldn't be able to prevent. Do you have any idea what that's like? And all I've been able to think about is if I were any good at this, if I had any kind of control over my ability, I might have been able to use it better. We might have reached you before . . . oh, God, Bobby, if you had died . . . just because I . . . ." Teri broke into uncontrollable weeping as she finally allowed herself to imagine what had almost happened. "I'm so sorry, Bobby! So sorry!"
Bobby had been listening to her without a word. He knew nothing he could say would erase the torment in her heart that had been building over these last few days. But he also knew that she was wrong about something. "Teri," he said softly, "You're right. I can't even begin to understand what you've been going through all this time, and I'm sorry for that. But I want you to understand one thing." He turned her face to his so that she would look at him. "I want you to hear this because it is very important: You Did Help Me."
Teri blinked back some of her tears and gazed at him. He was looking at her determinedly. He wanted to make her understand; really understand.
"I don't know how much Venger explained to you -- about Kadysse -- because he sure didn't tell us a whole heck of a lot," Bobby began.
Teri shook her head. "Most of what we learned was from what Uni told Varla."
Bobby lowered his eyes. "I really can't explain it myself, except to say I got really messed up. There was nothing I could do to keep her out of my head. She kept insisting that I join up with her, fight for her, God, you name it! And I'll admit, she was breaking me down."
Teri fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly bothered by what another woman had tried to do to him. "Bobby, why are you telling me this?"
"I thought you should know."
The Dreamer shifted again on the bank. "But you managed to beat her," she shrugged, trying to drop the subject. "You didn't let her control you."
Bobby raised his eyes once again, locking them on Teri's with resolute seriousness before continuing to speak. "No," he said, "That's where you're wrong. She had me, Teri. She was in my head and I couldn't get her out. There was a very thin line there, and nothing was going to prevent me from crossing it. Not my friends, not Ayesha or the other kids I was trying to protect, not even my sister, and certainly not myself." He paused to brush a tear away from her cheek; keeping his hand there and focusing on her intently. "The one thing -- the only thing -- that kept me from crossing over that line . . . was you."
Teri whimpered with renewed tears and tried to look away. Bobby kept his hand steady, however, and managed to keep her eyes on him. "You think that you weren't there for me, but you were," he said. "You think that you didn't help me, but you did. You were there, Teri. You were the only one who was there. You saved my sanity -- and you saved my life. Twice."
Teri brought her hand up to the heart-shaped pendant at her throat and it glowed softly in the afternoon sun. For a moment she was speechless. Her tears hadn't stopped, but they were no longer bitter tears of regret. She then rose up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around Bobby's neck. He reciprocated by folding his arms around her as well and just held her with all his might. The Dreamer squeezed tighter, finally able to enjoy just being in his arms and knowing that he was safe. "I love you so much, Bobby the Barbarian," she whispered into his ear. "I can never lose you like that again."
"You won't," he whispered back, "That I can promise!"
Teri lifted her head from where she had buried it in the nape of his neck and tilted it forward until their lips touched. She felt Bobby's arms tighten around her and, for a moment, all was forgotten. The Realm, the terrifying dreams, the new force of evil, even the question of getting home, everything faded, for the moment, into the sweet oblivion of a kiss.
Bobby pulled away at the sound of an indiscreet giggle to their right. He raised an accusing eyebrow at Ayesha, who bit her lip apologetically, but couldn't erase the wide smile from her face. "Mom sent me to get you," she announced. "Daddy said we should eat quickly and then leave so we can reach Tardos before dark." The young Paladin felt as though she should say something more, but couldn't get any words out, aside from reciting what the Ranger had told her. She did, however, continue to smile at her uncle.
Remembering how eager he was to get back to the Keep, the Barbarian agreed. He untangled himself from Teri and rose to his feet, picking up his club. "Coming?" he smiled down at the Dreamer.
Teri nodded. "I just want to get a quick drink," she said to him, definitely in higher spirits. "You weren't the only one who was parched!" Teri leaned forward to dip her hands into the gently flowing river.
She froze at the sight of a large shadow looming upon the water, which materialized into an obscure reflection of green and red. The Dreamer emitted a surprised cry and floundered away from the riverbank into the back of Bobby's legs. The Barbarian turned to see an enormous Orc captain snarling at them from the other side of the river. As he began to trudge through the water, he was joined by several more who emerged from the trees around him, and then still more who appeared from the forest surrounding Bobby and the others on their side of the river as well.
Ayesha's sword blazed forth as she backed closer to Bobby. "How come we didn't see them, Uncle Bobby?" she cried as the Orcs drew nearer.
The Barbarian raised his club with a growl and hoisted Teri to her feet, positioning her protectively behind him. He regarded the Orc soldiers that were closing in around them. "Kadysse," he spat in a low voice.
Bobby took a swing at the Orcs in front of him as Teri's scream alerted him to more soldiers advancing upon them from behind. The Barbarian turned his head at the sound of a surging hum as an arrow of light sped in the direction of the new attackers, sending them floundering back and into the banks of the Alicorn River. The Ranger emerged from beyond the trees and nocked another arrow, leveling it at the Orc aggressors.
"Where did they come from?" shouted Sheila's bodiless voice as she tossed back her hood and reappeared beside her husband.
Instead of answering, the Ranger shifted his aim and fired another shot past her, binding an Orc that had made a grab for Sheila.
"Uncle Bobby, behind you!" Ayesha cried as she discharged her weapon in the direction of the Orcs who were scrambling to get out of the river and attack Bobby and Teri again. She swept one up with the golden energy from her sword and tacked him to the ground on the other side of the water. The Barbarian, in turn, spun around and struck the water with his club, creating a wave with the power to wash the remaining Orcs downstream.
"Get across!" he called to the Paladin, ushering her in the direction of the river.
"But I--" the girl started.
"Go!" Hank echoed, "We'll be right behind you!"
Ayesha struggled to comply, wading into the water until it was nearly waist deep. She hadn't realized how difficult and slow it would be to try to move through water in chain mail. Careful to hold her sword hilt above water, she shot a glance back at the rest of her family as she neared the middle of the river. "Uncle Bobby!" she called.
Bobby was helping Hank to deal with the remainder of the Orcs, and didn't turn at the sound of his niece's voice.
"UNCLE BOBBY! DADDY!"
At Ayesha's panicked cries all four turned around. The girl was standing in the center of the Alicorn River, a silvery light covering every inch of her body that was visible above the water. "What's happening?" she cried as she looked at her hands; hands that were becoming transparent as the Paladin started to vanish from sight.
"Ayesha!" Hank shouted as he made a dash for the river with Sheila right behind him. The faint Paladin was little more than a wisp when they reached the bank. As Hank stepped into the water, his attention was again diverted by his wife's frightened voice.
"Hank!" she breathed, and he turned his head to Sheila. The Thief was surrounded by the same argentine light, and fading away just as rapidly as had Ayesha, even without the power of her cape.
"Sheila!" Hank spun on his heel and grabbed for his wife's wrist. His desperate fingers passed right through it. The Thief's eyes were panic-wide as she looked from Hank's face to the hand that had tried to clutch her wrist; a hand that was now also glowing with the silvery light. The moment the Ranger had made contact with her, the light lent itself to him as well, shooting up his arm and enveloping his entire body in a matter of seconds. The Ranger froze and looked at himself, then shifted his gazed from his wife, who was disappearing, to his daughter, who was already gone.
"No!" Bobby cried as he broke away from Teri and began running toward them. The Dreamer quickly followed. Hank raised his arms in a desperate gesture to keep them away as he and Sheila vanished from sight. "No!" Bobby cried again as he reached the spot where they had been standing.
"Bobby!" Teri shuddered as the shrill sound of a horse's whinny could be heard overhead. The Dreamer raised her eyes to see a demonic steed ridden by a dark figure in gleaming black armor. Something about this imposing figure seemed familiar to her.
"Kadysse!" the Barbarian growled hatefully. He stepped around Teri and held his weapon aloft.
The Mistress of War, clearly regenerated, raised a glowing hand to the pair on the ground. She didn't say a word as she released her magic toward them. Bobby turned and clutched Teri as she cried out in terror, both of them ducking down as the energy hit. The bolt struck the ground several short feet away and raced around them in a wide circumference like a lit fuse chasing a trail of gunpowder. Teri and Bobby looked up at the ring of fire that now surrounded them.
The Dreamer caught sight of a distorted shadow suddenly striding through the flames, and an image flashed through her head. The fire . . . the dark figure on horseback . . . the sights, sounds, and even the pungent smell of the flame crackling with magic . . . Teri realized that she had dreamed this scene. That first dream. Although not exact in every detail, as her visions seldom were, she remembered it vividly -- and grew even more afraid.
Kadysse almost seemed to sense this as she emerged through the flame in front of them and removed her armored helmet. Her line of vision met that of the Dreamer and Teri shuddered as Kadysse's amber feline eyes seemed to burn into her; even more so than the scorching heat of the surrounding flames. The Dark Mistress cracked a callous grin. "So, Barbarian," she uttered predatorily to Bobby as he turned to face her again, his club raised protectively, "This is the wretched little simp that you have chosen over me!"
Her eyes fell again on Teri, and the Dreamer felt an intense panic well up inside of her. She tightened her grip on Bobby's arm. The Mistress of War then turned her gaze back to the Barbarian, her cat-like eyes igniting scathingly. "You shall pay dearly for your treachery, boy," she hissed at him as she raised both arms, aglow with deadly energy. "You, and your worthless little trollop!"
Teri gasped. She knew from her dream what could happen if they didn't do something.
Bobby stepped forward, away from Teri, and gripped his club tightly. It hummed rhythmically in his hands. The next sound he heard, was the terror-stricken voice of the Dreamer behind him. "Bobby!" she cried. As he turned to face her, the Barbarian could see the mysterious glow forming a halo around her as well. He forgot Kadysse and made a grab for Teri -- not fast enough. The Dreamer vanished from sight, a look of panic in her eyes.
Bobby spun around to face the creature before him. "What have you done with them!" he demanded. Kadysse granted him no reply, aside from intensifying the spell that she was formulating. When her hands were fully ablaze, she addressed him. "You shall pay dearly for denying me!" she repeated, almost like a promise. And she released it toward him.
Panting in fury, the Barbarian raised his club with a battle roar as the mysterious silvery light suddenly surrounded him as well.
. . . And everything exploded into fire.
* * *
"Eric! Put me down!"
Eric let out a fatigued grunt as he shifted Diana in his arms, but didn't put her down and didn't stop running. He shot a look back at their Orcish pursuers as John and Toby slowed cautiously to let him catch up to them; their weapons at the ready. "You know what those Orcs will do to us if I stop?" Eric said, winded.
"That's nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you if you don't!" the Acrobat returned with aggravation. "Come on, Eric!" she said more urgently, "You know as well as I do that you're not going to outrun anyone this way!"
For as much as the Cavalier wanted to argue with her, he knew that Diana did have a point at this moment. Even if they were able to break away from the Orcs that had ambushed them without exchanging blows, they would never be able to run all the way back to Tardos Keep, which was still many hours away. Grumbling a silent curse, Eric skidded to a halt and lowered Diana's feet to the ground as her hand went for her staff.
Toby and John backed up toward them until the four formed a cluster, glaring out at the Orcs that surrounded them. Eric eased beside his son and reached down toward the boy's belt. The sword hidden there remained that way -- hidden. Eric grumbled again. Definitely a 'Dungeon Master Special'! he thought with rueful animosity as the blade lingered in its state of dormancy, Never around when you really need it! But he didn't have the time to dwell on it. Since it was clear that he would be purely on the defensive for this round, the Cavalier changed his tactics.
"John!" he commanded his son, "You stay next to Toby and cover him! I've got Diana!" The two Montgomerys shifted their positions in the group until they were side-by-side with their respective partners, ready to put offensive and defensive together.
Diana bit her lip and did her best to keep her trembling legs beneath her. She watched as more and more Orc soldiers seemed to emerge from the rocky landscaping, and her eyes became a pair of smoldering embers. Her lips moved as she recited the mantra of her gymnastics coach during her Olympic training: "Remember, Diana, the body does what the mind says."
The body does what the mind says . . . the body does what the mind says . . . .
Her strength seemed to grow as she gripped her javelin tighter. The staff grew in her hands as Eric took his place beside her.
The Orcs slowed and pressed en masse toward the huddled foursome. John threw up a protective field to cover their rear flanks as the green aggressors surrounded them. His panicked heart raced as he found himself nose-to-nose with a snarling snout with pointed teeth curling up from its mandible. He gulped as the Orc captain grinned at him.
"Dad?" John whimpered, recoiling as the beast snorted at him, but still trying his best to keep the force field raised.
Eric reached back and gripped the boy's shoulder with one hand as the other arm pressed forward even harder with his shield in an attempt to strengthen the protective barrier before the ranks of Orcs began trying to batter it down to get to them. The power of the shield could withstand nearly anything. The mortal who controlled it, however, could only stave off so much. He had learned this from experience; and remembered it especially from holding up Mordreth's ceiling. There would be an eventual moment when his will to energize the shield would waver. Diana and Toby had their weapons ready for the instant that it happened. Eric released John's shoulder to grip his shield with both hands and focused his full attention on the aggressors in front of him.
The Orc captain who was glaring at John raised a gauntleted hand to get his troops' attention. "Master Mordreth want their weapons," he snorted, never breaking his probing stare from the quaking youth. "Kill them," he sneered.
A collective, thunderous snarl rose up from the army of Orcs as they pressed in toward the huddle of humans. The force fields kept them back, but the Young Ones stood ready to fight. "Can we move at all like this?" Toby offered as he stared down the throngs of Orcs that surrounded them. "Maybe inch our way out of here while the shields are up."
"We can try," Diana replied as the foursome began taking small sideways steps. As expected, the Orcs moved right along with them.
"Just a little further. I think we're losing them!" John said in an attempt to bury his fear with sarcasm.
"Yeah, we can keep this up all the way to Tardos," Eric grunted, more to himself than in response to John's quip. "As long as we can get them to agree to a time-out every few inches!" He winced and turned his head reflexively as an Orc club struck the "wall" very near to his face. "What I wouldn't give for one of Presto's stupid hat tricks!" Eric muttered ruefully as the stinging sweat running into his eyes began to blur the forms of the Orcish soldiers ahead of him.
A corner of the Cavalier's peripheral vision caught a bright silvery flash, but he ignored it. He was too focused on the reaction that the Orcs had to it. The troop in front of him suddenly pulled back, a collective look of slight surprise on their faces. Eric's mouth curved upward as he eyed the startled Orcs. "I don't know what you guys just did," he said to the others with a confident chuckle as he turned his head, "But whatever it was, do it agai--"
Eric's eyes fell upon the space behind him. The area that was once occupied by Diana, John, and Toby was now nothing but a herd of Mordreth's soldiers. His friends were nowhere to be seen. He was alone. Wh-where'd they go? What was more, John's protective field was no longer covering his back side.
The Orcs recovered from their initial shock and began advancing on Eric again. Something of the old Cavalier began to reemerge as his confident chuckle gradually changed to a nervous one, to a choked gasp, and, finally, to a full-blown panicky wail as the Orcs lunged at him from all sides.
Eric dove out of the way as an Orc pileup collected behind him. He scrambled along the ground on his hands and knees until he saw a pair of immense booted feet appear in his path. The Cavalier skidded to an abrupt stop and shoved himself backward, landing on his posterior and crab-walking away from the towering Orc captain.
The creature cracked a snarling grin as he gloated down at Eric, who was suddenly frozen with fear. He shot his head around, trying to catch a desperate glimpse of where his son and the others had gone. But "gone" was exactly what they were. The only thing that remained behind him was the advancing league of Orcs. The Cavalier turned again to the brute in front of him. The Orc captain met his eyes with a hostile snort and a widening smirk as it began raising its club high into the air. The suns behind the Orc burned into Eric's eyes, but he couldn't turn away. The Cavalier wailed again as the Orc drew back completely and Eric's vision suddenly met with a blinding silver flash.
* * *
Eric was still screaming as the raised club came back into focus. But now his cries were matched by a thunderous battle roar from the creature in front of him. The Cavalier squeezed his eyes shut and cowered behind his shield, waiting for the blow. He seemed surprised for a moment when the shout above him suddenly ceased.
"Eric?"
The voice didn't belong to an Orc. It was clearly human . . . even strangely and vaguely familiar.
The Cavalier peeked cautiously out from behind his weapon. His eyes trailed up the individual before him, scrutinizing the blue-eyed, dusty blonde young man who was staring wide-eyed back at him. Eric's jaw dropped. "Bobby?"
The Barbarian still held his club aloft as he stared downward. The shock at suddenly seeing Eric in front of him -- instead of Kadysse -- caused him to forget about his menacing posture.
Eric reminded him as he began to rise. "Uh, watch where you're pointing that thing, shrimp. You could really hurt somebo—" Eric's words stopped abruptly as he straightened to his full height, which still only brought the top of his head to a point just level with Bobby's nose.
Bobby remembered his club and lowered it, still stunned, but regained his presence of mind in time to smirk lightly as he looked down at the Cavalier. "Who're you callin' a 'shrimp'?" he retorted.
"Bobby!" a voice cried from behind the Barbarian.
"Dad!" came a shout, with a similar sense of relief, from beside Eric.
Both turned away from each other at the respective sound of their own names. Bobby's eyes met Teri's just before the girl hurled herself into his arms in a grateful hug. He glanced over her shoulder to see Sheila, Hank, and Ayesha running toward him as well.
Eric was, likewise, tackled by his son as he noticed Diana and Toby standing nearby, taking in their new surroundings. "What the heck just happened?" he demanded as he looked around, dumbfounded. "Where did you guys go?"
"And how did you get here?" Bobby added.
"How did we all get here?" Hank questioned further.
"And where is 'here?'" Sheila concluded as she, Hank, and Ayesha made their way over to the others. The group of Young Ones, now larger in number, surveyed the room in which they stood.
Actually, although it seemed fully enclosed, with walls on every side, it appeared more like a courtyard than a room. It was large in scale and must have been grand in appearance -- once. The Young Ones stared at the enclosed courtyard around them. What must have at one time been magnificent white marble buildings, columns, and archways were now graying with decay and overrun with pestilent growth. Black murky pools ran the lengths of the stone pathways, evidence of what must have once been elegant landscaping. It nearly broke their hearts to see the putrefaction around them. Especially since this place looked like--
"Tardos Keep," came a thick, labored voice from nearby. Everyone turned to see its source. Presto stepped into view, clutching his side and looking somewhat the worse for wear. "It's Tardos Keep."
"Oh, God, Presto," Diana muttered as she took an instinctive step toward her battered friend.
The Magician raised his hand. "It's nothing," he insisted. "Just a couple scrapes." The reflexive twinge in his voice betrayed his lie, however, and the Acrobat assertively made her way over to Presto and supported him as he eased down onto a fallen column. When he was settled, he raised his eyes to each of his friends and the children with a relieved smile. "Glad you guys got here in one piece," he said as lightheartedly as he could manage.
"Toby! John!" Ayesha jostled her way past her parents and ran arrow-straight toward her formerly lost companions. Toby halted her charge by catching her in a grateful hug and spinning her around, fueled by the power of the girl's inertia. When her feet came to rest on the ground again, Ayesha pulled away from the Fighter and threw her arms around John. The boy grumbled in embarrassment, but returned her hug nevertheless. "What happened to you? Are you all right?" she asked both of them.
"Long story," John informed her.
"Real long!" Toby added. "But a word to the wise: Don't get this one mad!" He shot his thumb in the Squire's direction. "It ain't a pretty sight! Old Bonehead found that out the hard way!" The Fighter aggressively mussed John's hair. "Right, Johnny Boy?"
The Squire jerked away from Toby's hand and shot a scathing look in the older boy's direction. "Better not forget it!" he warned the Fighter as his stinging glare melted into a cocky grin.
Ayesha glanced at both of them with a smile, anxious to hear about what had happened. Whatever it was, it had done something to end the hostility between the two boys; or, at least, instigate a truce.
Hank continued to look around in disbelief. "This is Tardos?" he breathed as he slipped his arm across Sheila's shoulders. His wife shook her head sadly. Each of the Young Ones felt a stab of despair at the thought that the once magnificent Tardos Keep now looked . . . like this.
"Yeah," Presto confirmed, "New, and in definite need of improvement." He looked around again, as though seeing it fresh for the first time, before letting his head droop sadly to his chest. "Population: Us."
Eric broke the tense silence with an even more important question. "How did we get here?"
Bobby came to a sudden realization, himself. "Yeah," he stated as stepped away from Teri, but never let go of her hand. "One minute I'm staring down Kadysse, and the next I'm nearly braining Eric!" He turned in place to regard Hank, Sheila, and Ayesha, before finally settling his eyes on Teri. "I thought she had done something to you!"
"So what the heck happened?" Eric repeated his earlier question.
"Ahem!" Everyone turned as Presto cleared his throat.
Diana's eyes widened as she stared at him from her seated position. "Presto," she breathed, her lips curling into a surprised smile, "You did this? You managed to transport us here?"
The Magician shrugged. "Well," he admitted a bit sheepishly, "I did have a little help." And he turned to the darkness behind him.
A figure emerged from the shadow; a towering individual with a regal appearance. Beside him strode a magnificent white animal; a creature from legend with a horn of pearly ivory spiraling from the center of her head. She tossed her orange mane in greeting to the Young Ones. The stately figure at her side regarded the ten individuals who assembled before him.
"It pleases me to see you again, my Young Ones," Venger announced with a light smile.
* * *
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Author's Notes: Though I'm sure the majority knows this, I thought I'd mention that Ginsu ® are those knives and cutlery sets that were advertised quite a bit on infomercials. Presumably, they can cut through tin cans and never need sharpening. (Hmm. The Orcs must have been visiting "AsSeenOnTV.com!")
To be continued . . . !