Chapter 2

Ever-Decreasing Circles

The others hadn't heard Dungeonmaster's parting words, and were busy talking about what they should do. Hank couldn't concentrate on anything else: You will only have time to help one.

He knew exactly what the old man had meant and he felt sick. This was something he'd always dreaded, having to choose between two of his friends. He couldn't decide who lived and who died. It wasn't fair; he had no right to make such decisions… Presto? Or Eric?

'Hank, you all right?' asked Sheila suddenly. 'You've gone pale.'

He looked up into her lovely green eyes, feeling like there was a knife in his heart. But the Ranger managed to nod very slightly. What am I gonna do?

'We should find a safer place to rest properly, maybe by those cliffs,' said Diana, pointing off to the left. 'What do you think, Hank?' … You will only have time to help one… 'Hank!'

He nodded again, looking intently at the faces of his three remaining friends. It was obvious they hadn't heard what Dungeonmaster had said. Perhaps he should say…

No! he thought. I can't tell them, it's not fair to burden them!

'Diana, take the lead,' he said thickly. 'Go!'

The Acrobat did as she was told, and led them on. Hank walked at the back, trying to keep a close watch out for more Trogs, and think rationally at the same time. But he couldn't get beyond Dungeonmaster's words; there was a calm finality in the old man's voice that made Hank feel terrible. What am I gonna do?

In front of him, Sheila and Bobby suddenly stopped beside Diana. Hank was too distracted to notice until he'd almost walked straight into them. They were close to a little cave in a low cliff, well hidden by the trees. The Acrobat had found a good place to rest. They climbed up to it and settled down.

Hank knew the others were talking, but he didn't concentrate on what they were saying. He was too busy thinking about his missing friends, Presto and Eric. He'd be too late to help one of them.

'Hank? Are you listening?'

'Huh?' he said, turning round.

'Are you listening?' repeated Diana. 'We'll have to go soon. Don't you think?'

The Ranger hesitated. The confidence he'd felt earlier had vanished in the face of such a terrible choice. Presto… or Eric…

'We can't hide all day, Hank!' said the Acrobat. 'And what use will it be if we're too late to find them.' That didn't make him feel any better. They were going to be too late for one, whatever they did.

'We're as worried as you are, Hank,' put in Sheila. 'But we've gotta do something.'

Hank was frozen with indecision. His mind was filled with what-ifs: What if they lost the trail, what if they couldn't find them, what if they were too late, what if one was already dead…What kind of leader am I?

'Hank!' said Sheila. 'What are we gonna do?'

He looked at her, but instead of thinking about Presto and Eric, he found himself overwhelmingly relieved that she was safe. Now he'd told her how he felt, it was so much more real, and more frightening. He loved her, she'd not been out of his sight for more than a few minutes since he'd told her so, and he couldn't bear the thought that anything might happen to her. Then another, much more unpleasant realisation struck him. They had to find the others, and there was only one of them who could do it: Sheila.

If anything, that made him feel even worse. Those Trogs were very dangerous, he couldn't let anything happen to her. He loved her. But they looked into each other's eyes and Hank realised she had already made up her mind.

He wanted to argue, he wanted to get her away from this terrible place, but he was the leader. He couldn't play favourites, and he couldn't let the others down either. For the sake of all his friends, he had to pull himself together.

'Just a second, guys,' he said. 'I need to think.'

The Ranger closed his eyes, trying to keep control of his emotions. They had to stay calm and think about this logically. He couldn't let panic influence what he would do. And, above all, he had to keep the others safe. And that meant letting the Thief do what only she could do. He felt a hand on his arm: Sheila's. He opened his eyes and gave her a reassuring smile.

'I'm OK,' he said. 'And I know what to do. We'll take a short rest, then well go back to the old camp and track the Trogs from there, until we find the entrance to the tunnels.' He slipped his arm round Sheila's shoulders. 'Then you'll go and find the Lair.'

The Thief looked pale, but she nodded and cuddled into him.

'Do you think they'll be alright?' she asked him. You will only have time to help one.

'I don't know,' admitted Hank. 'But we can't make any mistakes.'

The others were quiet, Bobby hugging the unicorn, the Acrobat sitting by the edge of the cave looking out across the hillside. Hank sat there, holding the girl he loved tight against him. What would he do if anything happened to her?

'Help those who are unable to help themselves' murmured Diana thoughtfully. 'What did you make of the riddles this time, Hank?'

Hank didn't reply as he suddenly felt hope surge through him. Riddles! Perhaps it had a different meaning. Perhaps Dungeonmaster didn't mean they could only help one, perhaps…Then he sighed, the feelings of regret and worry returning tenfold. He'd had enough experience of Dungeonmaster to know the difference between a riddle and a statement. The Acrobat was waiting for an answer, but the Ranger could only shrug. This was terrible.

They rested in silence and Hank slowly felt worse and worse. Then Uni nuzzled into his hand, her big, pink eyes filled with tears, and he realised she had heard Dungeonmaster as well. She understood his dilemma. He petted her mane, his heart heavier than ever. But there was nothing he could do at the moment. He just had to trust Dungeonmaster, and hope that Presto and Eric were still OK.


The first thing he was aware of was the throbbing in his head. A second later he smelt it; the same smell as yesterday, a cross between rotten meat, vinegar, and something much worse. His stomach tightened and the Magician repeated the words "don't be sick" over and over again in his head.

I am not going to be sick. (Well, not yet…)

He slowly got used to the stench, and when he'd convinced himself that throwing up wasn't going to happen, Presto opened his eyes.

There was a flaming torch close by that gave enough light to see where he was. He gave a heartfelt sigh of relief. True, he was in a cave, but at least there wasn't any lava this time. That's a very good start! (No lava!)

In fact, he was in a wooden cage, with wide, strong bars. The Magician reached out and gave them an exploratory tug. You would need a Barbarian sized Club to get through those. Further away was a heavy-looking door, over 8 feet high, with wooden beams reinforcing the edges. Presto sighed. He was definitely gonna need Bobby to get out of here.

He sat for a few seconds then, almost as an after-thought, checked to see if he still had the Hat. He didn't.

'Dumb Hat!' he murmured. 'Never sticks around when I need it!'

There was a low groan from close by. Presto would have known that groan anywhere; it was Eric! The Cavalier was here as well!

He scrambled over to the back of his cell and peered through the bars. The Cavalier was lying at the back of the next cell. He'd been stripped down to his shorts, every last bit of his armour was gone, as well as the Shield. And, judging by the scrapes and bruises, whoever had taken it hadn't been very careful.

Further beyond, behind Eric's cage, the remains of his cape and surplus lay in the corner of the cave. Just peeping out underneath it was the Hat. But there was no sign of the armour anywhere.

The Cavalier groaned again, but didn't seem fully conscious.

'Eric?' whispered Presto. 'Eric, you OK?

There was no reply, but before Presto could ask again, there were low grunting noises from beyond the big door. He turned, watching the door fearfully as it swung open.

A tall, reptilian man came in, looking to Presto like a giant, upright iguana. It had three long toes on each foot, each ending with a vicious claw, and had long, muscular tail. Round its waist there was a narrow leather belt, with small bits of grey metal hanging of it. Two other Iguana-men followed the first in, each of these carrying a long spear. Presto stayed still, his heart hammering.

They talked with a low, guttural accent that he initially had trouble making out. His head was still hurting from earlier which didn't help, but he got the main points.

It was obvious that they'd been recognised; the leader referred to them as "the pupils of Dungeonmaster". And having Dungeonmaster's pupils here was a tremendous coup for this Clan, so one would be sent as the "Pledge" to the King, who would doubtless be very impressed. Meeting the King, that doesn't sound so bad. (Are you sure about that, Presto?)

'And the other?' asked one of the other Iguana-men with a nasty smile. The three looked round at each other.

'Steel,' they hissed together, the smiles growing more evil. 'He wore it, he makes it! We have found The One Who Makes Steel!'

'Now he will make it for us alone,' said the leader, brandishing a narrow flask. 'And he must make it fast. We must have it! Now!'

Presto stared in horror at them, realisation dawning on him; they didn't mean "make" as in "make", they meant "make" as in "grow". They weren't dumb enough to really think that Eric could grow steel? Were they? Why on earth would they think that? Humans didn't make steel! What was going on?

But as he watched, one of the guards pulled a big, copper key out of its belt and unlocked Eric's cell. All three went in.

'Hey, leave him alone!' shouted Presto. Well, it was meant to be a shout, but it came out as more of a croak and the Iguana-men ignored him.

They pulled the semi-conscious Cavalier off the floor, pinning his arms behind him. The leader forced Eric's head back and popped the top off the flask.

Even from further away, Presto wanted to throw up again. The smell was more than disgusting. No words could describe it. The Cavalier started to struggle and Presto could see the panic in his eyes.

One of the guards held Eric's head by the hair as the leader forced his clawed fingers into the Cavalier's mouth and poured the whole vial of liquid into the boy's mouth. Eric struggled again, coughing and spluttering, but he didn't stand a chance against the three six-foot lizard men. The leader pulled out his claw and clamped his hand over Eric's mouth and nose, forcing him to swallow. Then they let him slide to the floor, clutching his stomach.

The Iguanas looked pleased and left without a backwards glance, only pausing to lock the cage again.

'Eric!' said Presto urgently, pulling himself close to the bars. 'Eric, say something!'

For a long while Eric didn't move. Presto could see him shivering, his breath coming in short bursts. When the Cavalier finally rolled over onto his back, it was very, very slowly. A thin line of green ooze tricked out of his mouth. His eyes were open, but the Cavalier just stared up blankly at the roof.

'Eric?' asked Presto again. The Cavalier grunted. That was a start. 'C'mon, Eric, say something.'

'P-P-Pre-sto?'

'Yeah, it's me!'

'Presto?' Eric blinked sluggishly. 'Presto!'

'Yeah Eric, it's Presto!' said the Magician, trying not to sound overly worried. 'Say something else!'

There was a pause.

'Eric!'

'Haven't gone…anywhere,' said the Cavalier, making Presto smile in spite of everything. 'Gimme a… sec, OK?'

Presto watched Eric wipe the back of his hand across his mouth and grimace. Wearily, the Cavalier then pushed himself upright and leaned back against the back wall. He was paler than usual, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on his face. He groaned.

'Are you OK?' asked Presto. Eric didn't reply, but scowled at the Magician. 'Um, that's a no, right?'

Eric winced, and clutched his stomach again.

'Enough with the dumb questions,' he murmured.

'What were those things?' asked Presto loudly, hoping to keep Eric talking. 'Do you think they might be friends of the Orcs?'

'They're Troglodytes,' replied Eric. 'Trogs.'

Presto looked at his friend in surprise.

'How do you know that?'

'I recognise them,' he replied. 'Gail, the Harlequin, she told me. But I thought she was joking about the smell.'

'They're obsessed with steel,' Presto told him. 'They took your armour as well as the Shield.'

'I have managed to figure that out for myself, Presto!' the Cavalier snapped. Then he looked down at himself and gave a morose sigh. 'But it's lucky I don't have steel underwear.'

Presto smiled, suddenly feeling much better. If Eric could joke then he must be a little bit OK after all! The Cavalier drew a deep breath, the faintest hint of a sneer on his top lip.

'Bet this would never have happened if we'd gone round,' he muttered bitterly. 'I just hope I get the chance to tell him that.'

Presto wasn't happy with the way Eric was scowling, and he didn't reply. Encouraging the Cavalier to criticize Hank wasn't going to help at the moment, but he had to keep him occupied.

'The stuff they gave you smelt horrid, didn't it?' he said, blurting out the first thing on his mind.

'Yeah, well, it didn't taste that good either,' was the deadpan reply.

'Last time I smelt something that bad, you were making us breakfast,' said Presto, as brightly as he could.

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched, then he replied:

'Don't think I don't appreciate what your trying to do, Presto. Cos I don't. But please, talk about something else.'

It was a tall order and Presto racked his brains for something to say that wasn't connected with the Trogs. There was one thing, the only thing he could think of at the moment that was absolutely guaranteed to take the Cavalier's mind off ANYTHING. He didn't really want to mention it, but what else could he do?

'At least there isn't any… red ink… around here.'

Presto couldn't suppress a grin at the memory as he waited for the inevitable howls of anger that Eric emitted every time that school-time prank was even hinted at. But instead, the Cavalier smiled too.

'Yeah,' he said casually, 'Gail almost died laughing about that one.'

That was just too odd, and for a few seconds Presto could think of anything to say in reply. What was going on? Eric had sworn everyone to double secrecy: absolutely everyone, without exception. He wouldn't even let them talk about it in his presence; it was just too embarrassing. And now Eric himself had gone and told some stranger!

'Gail?' said Presto, not bothering to hide his surprise. 'You told her? Why?'

Eric blushed and muttered something under his breath.

'You see,' he began carefully, 'Well, Gail and I, we…um…sorta…um… you know, just while they were around…'

'In your dreams, Eric!' said Presto with a laugh. The Cavalier and girls never got on well. He tried to appear confident and charming, but Eric usually tried too hard, and ended up saying or doing something dumb that ended in howls of derisive laughter. And Eric hated being laughed at above anything else, as the incident with the ink had proved (how were they supposed to know it was permanent, anyway?). Besides, there was no way Gail, of all people, could have liked him! She might be kinda weird, but she had at least SOME sense!

Presto grinned at the memory of the Harlequin. As wilful as Bobby and as temperamental as Eric; she was not an easy person to get along with. He'd liked her, but only in small doses. The Cavalier was blushing more deeply, and had a small smile on his face.

'No way!' said Presto still laughing. 'NO WAY!'

Eric looked up at him, and Presto choked on his laugh. Suddenly it all seemed to make some sort of sense. How much time had they spent together? The night watches? The long walks? And Eric had definitely been acting oddly since they'd met the others. The Cavalier's look had turned to a scowl.

'You tell anyone, and I'll have to kill you,' he said matter-of-factly.

Presto nodded. Considering the relentless teasing Bobby had gotten about Terri, Eric would expect nothing but the same back. He would never hear the end of it. But then, it was so unlike Eric not to boast, especially about something like this. It would boost his ego enormously to brag. Now, if Hank had a secret girlfriend, then Presto would have understood; Hank was so mature and sensible about this sort of thing. But Eric? The Magician frowned. Perhaps the two of them were serious.

'You're not, you know, in love with her?'

There was a fractional pause, then Eric snorted.

'Don't be so dumb, Presto! No one falls in love that quickly!' His eyes narrowed. 'Except you and Varla, of course!' he added sarcastically.

Presto blushed at her name. The Cavalier had been at his most scathing after they'd rescued the Illusionist. Why, oh why, had he gathered the young girl in his arms like that? Why couldn't he have just taken her hand and helped her down the mountain? The ripping Eric had given his ego after that, oh boy! But as much as Presto hated getting teased about her, he didn't let it pass.

'What about Diana and Kosar?'

Eric thought about that for a second, then said:

'Oh, OK, those two as well. But I'm not, get it?'

Presto just nodded. He watched Eric continue to smile, in a self-conscious and smug kind of way, making the Magician frown again. There was something more, that Eric wasn't telling. Presto's jaw suddenly dropped and he turned a brilliant shade of scarlet.

'You didn't…do… anything…' What WAS he asking? He couldn't even say the word!

Eric's smile had turned into a nasty smirk, and the Magician couldn't tell if it was because he and Gail had done anything like that or because he, Presto, was making such a complete and utter dork of himself.

'Remember, breathe a word and you're dead,' said Eric. 'I mean it!'

The Magician nodded.

'Gee, if it means that much to you, OK.'

Eric shuddered again, the smirk vanishing. But at least the Cavalier had forgotten about the liquid, if only for a few minutes. And since they were on the subject of girls…

'I always though you had a bit of a thing for Diana,' said the Magician, hoping to keep Eric's mind off the Trogs for a little longer. The Cavalier just shrugged.

'Yeah, well, who wouldn't find a girl in fur bikini attractive,' he replied. 'It's not like we had a chance.' Look blank! (Look blank!) Act casual! (Act casual!) 'She has a whole queue of gorgeous quarterbacks waiting for her back at home, and then she met Kosar! Face it, nether of us ever had a hope.'

The Magician blushed furiously. The blank look hasn't worked!! (How did he figure it out, anyway?)

'M-me? I-I n-never…'

Eric cut in.

'You almost fainted when she kissed you on the cheek. That time with the Cloud Bears? Remember?'

Oh. Yes. (That…)

Presto had to nod. At the time, he wasn't able to think about anything else for days. It was before he'd met Varla and…

Beside him, Eric gave a strangled groan. Presto saw his shoulders shaking.

'Eric, you gonna be OK?'

The Cavalier didn't reply. He'd gone from pale green to just pale, and had closed his eyes. Presto could only watch as Eric winced and turned away. A few seconds later, the Cavalier was very, very sick.

'"Make steel"?' he murmured, turning back slowly. 'Is this a bad joke?'

Presto could only shrug, unable to think of a reply and the silence stretched out into minutes.

Then there was a noise from the door, and both boys looked up. It had to be Hank and the others, Presto was sure. They wouldn't let them down.

The door opened. But instead of any of their friends, ten or more Trogs filed in, each with a spear. They looked between the two boys, and there was lots of whispering. The head-Trog from earlier stepped forward. He was holding another bottle and every single one of the Trogs was looking at the Cavalier.

'Oh…' whispered Eric.