Two

Eric was getting close to the top of the chasm.

This was a good thing.

He knew this because, for the past twenty minutes, the sunlight had found the top of his head and began to beat down upon it, mercilessly.

This was a bad thing.

He was just reaching up into the sunshine when he felt the rock beneath his feet begin to soften and give way. He began to scrabble, but the cliff's edge had little substance to it. He made the mistake of looking down at his feet and the drop beyond. He was trying to climb sand. The top few feet of the cliff was nothing but densely packed sand. He made one last effort and grabbed the final ledge, hauling himself onto the surface just as a large chunk of the cliff beneath him break away and fall to the distant bottom. He collapsed on the surface, panting and exhausted.

'S'OK,' he told himself through his straining breaths, 'S'OK. You made it. Rest. Rest.'

He paused for a while.

'The others would never let you rest,' he added, smugly. 'If they were still here, they'd be all "oh, lets go help these guys, lets go save these gnomes so that they can reward us with Big Fat Nothing". But you don't have to do that crap any more.'

He paused some more, smacking his dry lips.

'Maybe one of them would have thought to bring water, though,' he told himself.

He forced himself to sit up and look around himself. He was still facing the chasm, and could see a great Savannah on the other side of it. Trees and bushes grew, sparsely at first, but the further from the ravine they were, the denser and lusher they became. There was a small mountain in the distance, with the unmistakable twinkle of a fresh stream curling down from it. This was all, however, on the wrong side of a chasm a good ten feet wide. With Hank and his bow, or Diana and her staff, there might have been a way across. But on his own, there was absolutely no chance. He turned to survey the landscape that he had ended up on. There was sand. And absolutely nothing else. Just a vast expanse of sun baked desert. There wasn't even a horizon. The sand merely melted hazily into the sky.

'Oh, great.'

He stood up, squinting off into the distance.

'There'll be something,' he told himself, confidently. 'There'll be a town, or an oasis, or something. There always is.'

With that, he nodded to himself, and began to walk into the desert, still running his dry tongue over the roof of his mouth.

'Maybe this'll be the bit where things start getting better,' he added, 'cause I really can't see how this could get any worse...'

He bit his lip to stop himself saying any more.

Don't say that! Never say that! That's just tempting fa...

The shadow fell over the back of his head.

For the briefest moment, his expression turned to one of intense irritation before it darkened to a grim, if fearful, resolve.

I knew it!

He turned slowly, deliberately, sliding his shield down his arm from its resting place on his shoulder to his hand, holding it up so that it covered as much of his torso as possible, and could be brought up quickly to protect his face.

He watched Venger bring his great black mount down to land on the desert floor with confident ease. Venger never once took his eyes from the youth. Wordlessly, Eric cocked his head back, feigning contempt and defiance, doing his best to look down his nose at his opponent - not an easy task when Venger stood several feet taller than him.

I must look ridiculous.

As though hearing his thoughts, Venger let out a small, mocking laugh.

'So it's true,' grinned Venger, 'the little Cavalier is the only one left.'

Eric scowled, taking a hesitant step backwards. It wasn't as if he could run. It wasn't as if there was anywhere to hide. But it wasn't as if he could fight Venger alone, either. And Venger knew it too. That's why he was toying with him.

'The others went back to their accursed world, I take it,' Venger continued, 'and saw fit to leave you here. All alone.'

Eric did his best not to change his expression. He stood in his spot, tensed against whatever the One-Horned demon was about to throw at him.

But he didn't. Venger watched him for a moment, then dismounted quietly and took a step towards him.

Eric took another step back. 'Stay away from me.'

Venger cocked an eyebrow in amusement. 'Or what?'

'Just...' Eric's voice was barely a hiss. he hoped that it would sound angry, rather than terrified as it sounded to him. 'Just stay away.'

Venger smiled again. 'Eric...'

Eric choked a little.

'That is your name, isn't it?'

Eric just nodded, wide-eyed.

Venger took another step towards him. 'You're a sensible boy, Eric. Do not think that I haven't noticed. You wouldn't just throw your life away.'

Oh my God. He's talking like a teacher...

Venger held out his hand.'I think you know better than to not give me that weapon now. Because you can either hand it over in a civilised fashion, or you can cause me to take it from you by force. And I think you know that would not end well for you.'

It's worse. He's talking like Dad.

Eric took another step back.

'No. It's mine.'

'You would seriously protect that trinket of Dungeon Master's with your life? After he brought you here and left you alone? What allegiance do you owe him?'

'I don't.' Eric frowned, searching for the reason why he was being so stupidly stubborn. 'But it's mine.'

Venger snarled, hurling a small burst of magical energy at him, which Eric blocked automatically. Two more bursts of energy pushed Eric back a little way, but his shield took most of the strain, and he was able to stay on his feet.

'Stop doing that!'

'Stop blocking me! You're only making it worse for yourself...'

'Oh shut up.'

Venger furiously lashed out a hand to grab the shield. Eric winced, clutching the shield to himself tightly.

Here we go. Here comes the pain...

A thin film of electricity jumped over the shield the moment Venger touched it, causing him to jerk his hand away. Eric looked up, over his shield as Venger clenched his fist in pain and rising anger.

'How dare you.'

'I...' gasped Eric, 'I didn't do anything...'

'How dare you!' Venger lashed out again with a clawed hand, at Eric's face this time.

Eric didn't have time to shield himself. He didn't need to. The film of protective energy rose up over him from the shield just in time to catch Venger's hand once more.

Venger actually cried out slightly this time, cradling his hand. There was smoke rising from it.

'It seems that you have chosen to do things the hard way,' Venger growled. He took a step towards his mount, then stopped, and turned back to the cowering boy.

'It makes no difference to me, of course,' he continued with a calmness returning to his voice. 'This desert would take weeks to cross on foot, although nobody has ever managed to do so and live. You are just one little boy, with no food and no water. I can't imagine you'd last long.'

Venger leaned in to Eric slightly. The shield hummed again, warily.

'I shall return, in a day or two.' He ran a brief, predatory glance over the lad, his primary coloured armour shining brightly under the relentless suns. 'You will be easy to find, and by then will be in no position to defy me.' Venger paused for a moment, and thought. 'I should like to return to you before you die. Although I shall be able to pluck your weapon from your slack, helpless hands either way, I should prefer you to watch me do so.'

He turned away from Eric again, and began to mount the black stallion that waited for him.

'I might even bring you back, too,' he added with a small smile, 'I'm sure you have some wonderful tales to tell of your adventures, and of those who have helped you to defy me. They say that you are the one who talks too much. I should like to see how just how much, under persuasion, you would be willing to say.'

With which he tugged at the creature's mane, drawing it around, and, unfolding his huge black wings, took off and galloped away.

Eric watched him leave from safely behind his shield until he was a distant speck of black on the sky. Then, and only then, he flipped him off.

He watched the speck disappear.

He kicked at the sand, angrily.

He stopped, coughing as the disrupted sand flew into his face.

He paused, watching the vast expanse of nothing, his chest heaving as his despair grew to intolerable levels.

He swore.

He swore again, louder.

He screamed, his arms flung out wide to the nothingness.

He paused again, listening to his scream die away.

He threw himself into a sudden, violent rage, the first he had done in a long time, hurling his shield to the ground and falling to his knees along with it, pounding and clawing at the sand with his fists, cursing the world, cursing everybody he knew, cursing, particularly, himself.

'It' not fair! It's not fair!' He curled forward, hugging the back his head, forming a tight, foetal ball. 'I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die alone, in this Hellhole. Alone and unloved and oh God I'm gonna die...'

He sat up sharply, his face and voice suddenly being masked with an insincere calmness.

'No you're not,' the calm voice told the panicking one. 'No you're not. You're gonna walk.' He got to his feet, shakily, picking up his shield and dusting it off. 'You're gonna walk. You're gonna prove that dress wearin' Son of a Bitch wrong, if it's the last thing you do. It will be the last thing I do...'

He bit his lip, driving the panicked voice into silence. He faltered for a moment, watching the endless desert with trepidation.

'You're gonna walk.'

He began to walk out into the vast, flat desolation.

'You're gonna walk.'

-x-

Much as Presto had feared, his mother didn't even start phoning around the other kids' parents until there was a hot pizza and large bowls of coleslaw and green salad on the table. She ushered the barely protesting kids into the large kitchen.

'Eat. Eat, for God's sake,' she clucked.

'Uh... thanks.' Bobby was the first to take a large slice of pizza and start eating, quite forgetting to use a plate, not that Mrs Greene seemed to mind.

'You must be starving, poor little thing.'

'Mmmhh.' Bobby nodded, his mouth crammed full, as the others began to help themselves, remembering their table manners.

'D'you boys win those at the fair?'

'Hhmm?'

Mrs Greene nodded at the large club and bow still being clutched absent mindedly by the two blond boys.

'Oh.' Hank swallowed hastily. 'Um, sure.'

Mrs Greene indicated to the cowering unicorn at Bobby's heels.

'Tell me you didn't win that too.'

Bobby reached down to pet Uni instinctively.

'She's our pet,' replied Sheila.

Mrs Greene adjusted her glasses.

'What is it, a goat or something?'

'Somethin' like that,' muttered Presto, 'look, Mom...'

'Why is it wearing a hat?'

Uni backed away under a chair, miserably. The kids had used the sash from Sheila's Realm outfit to fashion a sort-of turban over her horn. It didn't make her particularly inconspicuous. In fact, it made her look completely ridiculous.

'She feels the cold,' answered Presto quickly. 'Listen, I'm sure these guys' parents will be worried about them.'

'Of course,' smiled Mrs Greene, finally taking the hint. 'I'll ring around.'

'Sorry', sighed Presto when his mother had finally left the room and begun talking on the phone.

'Don't be,' smiled Sheila, tucking into a second helping, 'your Mom's the best!'

'Did anybody else notice,' piped Diana, 'she thinks we've only been gone a day.'

'Yeah,' Hank added. 'I guess we struck pretty lucky. I must admit I was starting to worry that there'd be a big Missing Persons search out for us by now...'

He fell silent as Mrs Greene breezed back into the room.

'They're all coming over now,' she told them cheerfully, 'except I'm afraid there was no answer at your house, Eri...' She blinked at them. 'Where's Eric?'

Presto paled, and the others looked at their feet. The questions were going to start. And their answers were going to sound terrible...

'Huh?' he asked, playing for thinking time.

'That new friend of yours, Eric. Didn't he go with you today? Where is he?'

'He... he, uh...'

'He left us this afternoon,' replied Hank, quietly, 'went off on his own.'

The others looked at one another, guiltily. Again, it wasn't exactly a lie...

'Oh.' Mrs Greene seemed satisfied by that answer. She had obviously met Eric before. 'Well, I hope he's OK. It just went through to answerphone at his house.'

'He might still be out,' suggested Hank.

Mrs Greene frowned. 'But it's a school night.'

She was cut off by the doorbell. Diana's house was only around the corner, but still her father must have sped to get there so quickly. Mrs Greene went to answer it, still talking.

'Where are his parents, that's what I'd like to know...'

Presto leaned in to the others as his mother answered the door.

'He said his Dad was away on business until tomorrow night. His Mom lives in the UK, she never calls.'

Hank nodded. 'So we've still got a whole day to find him before he's missed.'

A silence fell as they contemplated this.

'That's really sad,' said Sheila.

Hank sat back in his chair, and frowned.

-x-

Hank sat on his bed. He was fed and washed and ready for bed like a good little boy. He was still frowning. There was something he was still missing. A big piece of the jigsaw didn't fit, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

He lay down. he couldn't think straight. He was exhausted. Mr O'Brian had given him a lift, and he had spent most of the journey from Presto's house silently watching the world fly by the passenger seat's window, listening to Bobby and Sheila argue with their father about what they were to do with their mysterious new 'pet'. By the time he had got out and walked to his house over the road it had been decided that Uni could stay in the garage for the time being, but Mr O'Brian was still adamant that she was to be taken to an animal rescue centre by the end of the week.

He ached. The months of fighting for survival in the Realm were finally beginning to take its toll on his body.

But we've only been gone a day! Less than that, most of today we spent trying to find a way back into the Realm...

He tried to do the maths in his head. They had got on the ride just after an early lunch, and when they'd been in the Security Guard's office the clock had said ten to four. And that had to have been at least half an hour after they'd surfaced the first time.

We can't have lost more than three hours...

Sleep began to overtake him.

Months and months in three little hours. Time must move much faster there than here...

The answer was there, on the edge of his mind, waiting to be worked out, but he slipped out of consciousness before he had the chance to construct it. It invaded his dreams instead, the horrible reality hitting his sleeping thoughts like a sickening nightmare that he couldn't alter, couldn't wake from, couldn't help.

We've been back on Earth for hours and hours. More pass as we sleep. And for every hour that we waste, he spends endless months alone out there. Months... years, perhaps.

And there was the other thought, the worse one, that danced around the top of his nightmare like a skittish spider.

He could never survive that world for so long. Not alone. He's dead. He's already dead.

-x-

Eric sank to his knees in the sand. Once the suns had dimmed and disappeared, it had been all right. He had still been hungry, exhausted and desperately thirsty, but he had managed to walk steadily through the cold desert night. Day had returned all too soon, however, bringing with it the intolerable heat. It couldn't even be noon, and he could go no further. His mouth and throat were as dry as sand, but he was still losing buckets of precious fluid by sweating so profusely. He panted, his head bowed. The shining steel of his armour not only slowed him with its weight and made him glitteringly obvious Vengerbait, it also conducted and retained the suns' heat terribly. His breastplate and boots were so hot that they were starting to sting his skin, and inside the suit of chainmail, his torso was beginning to stew. He glowered down at his body. There was nothing for it. If he was going to keep moving, heck, if he was going to survive the next few hours, the clothes were going to have to go. Cursing quietly, he removed all his metal trappings bar his shield, stripping to his underwear. He picked up his cape and refastened it over his head like a large shawl, hoping to keep his shoulders and arms from burning while protecting himself as much as possible from the oncoming sunstroke that was already causing him dizziness. He spent a moment staring at the armour that he had worn with considerable pride for the last few months, despite its heavy and uncomfortable nature as it lay, abandoned, in the sand.

Here lies the shell of Eric the Cavalier. It'll probably be here long after I'm gone. Maybe one day somebody'll find it, and wonder who left it, and why.

With difficulty, he dragged himself to his feet, slinging his shield over his shoulder. He looked down at himself again. He was reminded of a cartoon turtle that had jumped out of its shell.

Maybe it's a good thing there's nobody to see me after all...

He set his face, and continued the long, painful trek across the scorching sand.

Several hours passed, and the suns rose overhead to begin their tormentingly slow fall back to the horizon. In the middle of the desert, a skinny, half naked, crimson shawled figure dropped the golden shield that he had been dragging and collapsed entirely.

Another hour or so passed. Eric drifted in an out of consciousness. He could no longer swallow, and the sandy dryness seemed to have overtaken the whole of his insides. He could feel the back of his legs burning, but he barely cared any more. He closed his eyes, face down beneath his cape, and prayed for death to come before Venger did.

He became aware of footfalls in the sand, and a large shadow falling over his prone body.

Oh no. Too late... too late for a quiet death now...

'What's this?'

The voice, while confident and deep, wasn't Venger's. Still, Eric didn't dare hope that it wasn't somebody who wished him harm. A large, warm hand grabbed his unprotesting wrist and felt for a pulse.

'A desert waif, eh?' continued the gently mocking voice, 'lazing around in the sand. We can't have that now, can we?'

The figure picked Eric up easily, slinging him over its shoulder like a fireman rescuing a frail child. Eric couldn't fight. He was barely aware of what was going on as he was flung over something large, softly feathered and alive. He felt the figure climb into a saddle behind his limp torso and pick up a set of reigns that ran over the top of him.

'I am just going to have to take you home with me.'

The figure fastened the young man's shield behind his own back and kicked his mount gently. The burdened beast sped away through the desert, away from the distant chasm, and away from the empty suit of armour.

The armour was returned to later that day by another tall, dark figure which kicked at it, cursing loudly, then left again, for good. Gradually the sands of the desert blew over the shining metal, consuming it, covering the hollow, fallen memorial for Eric the Cavalier with a fat blanket of nothingness.

-x-

'I'm sorry!'

Hank blinked, making sense of his surroundings. He was sitting up in his bed (his bed... his room...). There was sunlight visible through the curtains. His alarm clock was ringing. The apology had flown from his lips as he'd woken. He was home. And, provided his memory served him correctly, Eric still wasn't. He slapped the alarm clock, silencing it. It was a Monday. He supposed he'd better make as if he was going to go to school.

He showered and dressed faster than usual, and, since he had no appetite, skipped breakfast. He managed to stuff his bow into his biggest gym bag and was just leaving, a good half hour ahead of schedule, when his mother stopped him.

'Hank?'

Hank avoided his mother's gaze. He didn't want to start getting used to his parents being around again. Not if he was going to have to go back to that place without them.

'Mom...'

'About yesterday.'

Hank made no reply.

'You know the house rules about timekeeping, Hank.' Her voice wasn't angry, but gently scolding, as if she was talking to a much younger boy. 'You didn't so much as call to let us know you'd be late...'

'...I couldn't...'

'No excuses, young man.' His mother crossed her arms. 'Needless to say, you're grounded tonight. We'll expect you to come straight home from school this afternoon. Understood?'

Hank continued to look at the floor.

If they think last night was bad, wait 'til they find out I bunked off school today... that is, if I ever come back this time...

'Sure, Mom.'

He turned to go.

'Honey?'

He turned back to her. She caught his cheek, tenderly.

'Love you, Kiddo.'

He took her hand in his.

'Love you too, Mom.'

He didn't look back, but jogged across the road to the O'Brian house, listening to his mother shut the door behind him.

He didn't have to ring the doorbell - Sheila opened it for her brother and his unicorn just as he got to their front step, making them all jump.

'You're early!' exclaimed Sheila.

'So are you,' Hank replied.

Sheila shrugged. 'None of us slept very well...'

'...I was worried about Uni,' interrupted Bobby, 'she's off her food...'

'And I had weird dreams all night,' Sheila continued. 'I'll feel better once we've sorted all of this out.'

She slung a large backpack over her shoulders. Bobby's club was slightly too big for it, and poked out through the top, along with the edge of her scrunched - up cloak. Hank stood aside to let her lock the door behind her, then followed them onto the street, smiling faintly at the miserable unicorn at their heels. She had been disguised again.

'A party hat?'

Sheila flashed him a quick grin. 'Apparently the turban made her look too silly.'

Bobby looked back at them over his shoulder as he walked. 'You makin' fun?'

'No,' chorused the older pair.

Without breathing a word to each other, they began making their way towards the school. Presto and Diana usually met up with them around halfway there, and from their meeting point, they'd be able to decide what they were going to do.

Hank walked in step with Sheila as Bobby walked ahead of them. Just like they had done every school day before the Realm. Everything was becoming so routine, so normal again.

'So what were your dreams about?' he asked Sheila.

'The Realm,' she answered, 'lots and lots of dreams about the Realm. All these adventures we never had.'

'Such as?'

'Oh... Presto fell in love with this prisoner of Venger's, so did Diana...'

'With Presto's girlfriend?' grinned Hank.

'No!' Sheila laughed. 'With this Stargazer guy, but then he disappeared. And there was this creepy scarecrow called the Darkling, and a big scary whirlwind was Venger's boss, and Venger had a sister, who seemed nice, then turned evil, then turned nice again...'

'Did you fall in love?'

Sheila shook her head, smiling at him. 'This king proposed to me, but I said "no".'

Hank linked arms with her. 'I'm glad.'

Sheila's face fell. 'Eric was there.'

Hank sighed.

'All the time,' she continued, 'in all those adventures we never had, he was still there. Causing trouble... annoying us... protecting us, making us laugh...' she smiled, strangely. 'I miss him, Hank. He's a sweet guy, deep down.'

They turned the corner where they usually met up with Presto and Diana, expecting to have to wait around for them. They found themselves speeding up, however, to rendezvous with the bespectacled boy and tall Black girl who were already waiting for them.

'You're early!' cried Sheila.

'We both slept badly,' replied Diana by way of explanation.

'More dreams?' asked Hank.

Presto shook his head. 'Worrying.'

'Thinking,' added Diana. 'Thinking that months in the Realm passed as a couple of hours on Earth, and so wondering how long he's on his own back there for every minute we waste.'

Hank watched the others' eyes widen in horror.

'I hadn't thought of that!' exclaimed Bobby.

Hank looked at his feet. 'I had.'

Presto set his face, folding his arms, yet another example of his sudden, uncharacteristic decisiveness - a certain... Erickyness... that he had been displaying since becoming parted from the Cavalier.

'Then there's no time to waste,' he demanded. 'We need to find a way back into that dumb world right now.'

Hank sighed. 'Presto... it might not be that easy. I mean, where do we even start looking?'

Presto looked up at him. God, he hated that look. That disappointment. He opened his mouth, and tried to say something a little more helpful, but was cut off by a voice both familiar and unexpected.

'Guys! Hey, guys, wait up!'

Hank frowned, and turned with the others to face the owner of the voice, jogging up the street after them.

'Jimmy?'

Presto groaned. That annoying little Whitticker kid, tagging along yet again. He had quite forgotten about the early morning ritual - he and Diana would meet up with Hank, Sheila and Bobby, they'd get about ten seconds of peace and then Jimmy would catch up with them and start pestering him. Not Bobby, not Sheila, but him. Every single goddamn day. Hank had tried to tell him that it was just because Jimmy liked him. Presto tended to agree with Eric, who had once had the misfortune of being stuck in detention with him for a week, that being intensely irritating was a sort-of sport to Jimmy, and that he probably had a pool going with his friends as to how long it would take Presto to snap.

'You're early,' Bobby told Jimmy as he met them.

'Had a weird night's sleep,' replied Jimmy.

Diana blinked. Jimmy might have always copied things they did, but how come he hadn't slept? He hadn't been with them in the Realm... had he? She could tell from Hank's face that he was wondering the same thing.

'Weird how?' she asked.

'Had the craziest dream,' Jimmy answered, breathlessly, 'that this monster came and took me to a magical world, and that I was there for weeks and weeks.'

'Magical world... really...' Hank's voice was flat.

'And you know the nuttiest thing?' continued Jimmy, 'my Dad dreamt it too. And it was so real to him that he actually called the cops! Boy was I ever surprised to wake up in my bed surrounded by half the LAPD... not half as surprised as Dad was, though...'

'You woke up in your bed?' added Diana.

'Yeah,' grinned the boy, 'the monster got killed and all us kids that were, y'know, taken... we were all sent back to our bedrooms.' Jimmy barely paused as he briefly scanned the others' thoughtful expressions. 'Where's Eric?'

'Huh? Why?' Presto kicked himself instantly for sounding so suspicious, but Jimmy was so absorbed in his story that he didn't notice.

'I wanna tell him about my dream. He was in it! He'll flip!'

Again, Jimmy didn't notice the sudden wave of seriousness that fell over the others.

'Was he...' stuttered Sheila, '...was he OK? I mean... what was he doing?'

Jimmy's face split into a wide smile. 'He saved my ass! He was all heroic, like, he was dressed weird and he had this magical shield...'

Hank felt Sheila grab his hand and squeeze it tightly.

'Did he say anything?' he asked, hoarsely, although his voice was drowned out by the others' questions.

'Did he look happy?'

'Was he well?'

'Did he look like he was getting enough to eat?'

Jimmy shrugged, enjoying the attention. 'He was OK, kinda sad looking. When he saw me he was sad, anyway. He said he had a message for you guys.'

Sheila's hand crushed Hank's even tighter.

'Well,' she gasped, 'what was it?'

'I don't know. That's when I woke up.'

The group sighed in irritation as one.

'What?' smiled Jimmy. 'Hey, isn't Eric with you?'

'He never walked...' Diana corrected herself. 'Walks with us. You know that. He might be at school.'

'Oh.' Jimmy's face fell, a little disappointed, as he began to walk towards the school. 'OK. You guys coming then?'

The others remained in a stationary huddle.

'We'll see you there,' lied Presto. 'We've got some things we gotta do first.'

'You'll be late!' chimed Jimmy with an irritating cheerfulness.

He began to walk away from the group, then stopped, frowning. Something about those guys had been really weird. He turned to look back at them. It was still there.

'Hey,' he called to them, 'why do you have a tiny pony wearing a party hat?'

The group, tiny pony included, stared at him with identical deadpan expressions.

'It's her birthday,' answered Bobby, finally. 'Bye, Jimmy.'

Jimmy Whitticker turned from them and continued his walk to school alone, shaking his head.

'And I thought my dreams were strange...'

It was Diana who spoke first, as soon as Whitticker was out of earshot.

'OK, who else thinks Jimmy really went to the Realm?'

Everybody raised a hand.

'And he really saw Eric, too,' added Presto.

The others nodded in agreement.

'I just wish he'd been able to get that message to us,' sighed Sheila.

'Yeah,' added Bobby. 'Apart from knowing he was OK when Jimmy met him, we're right back where we started again.'

'Some good Whitticker ever was...' muttered Presto.

'Not necessarily, Presto.' Hank was standing stock still, mentally picking through everything Jimmy had just told them. There was something that he said that was very different to their experience of the Realm. He had entered it, and exited, a different way.

'Jimmy didn't use the ride.'

The others gazed at him. Diana began to smile warmly as the realisation hit her.

'That's right! He was taken from his bed, and he was sent back to his bed!'

'And he said that everybody was being sent back,' added Sheila with growing relief.

'What?' Bobby was still nonplussed. 'What does that mean for us?'

'It might have taken Eric back, too,' Sheila explained, 'he might be safely in bed already!'

'Might be,' added Presto, 'only might be.'

Hank's heart was hammering with anxious hope. Presto was right, of course, they couldn't afford to be relieved yet. But at least it was a lead.

'There's only one way to find out for sure,' he told them.

Nobody said another word, but they turned as one and began the long sprint towards Eric's house.

-x-

His heart still pounding and his breath still struggling from the run and the anxiety, Hank rang the doorbell of the Gothic mansion for a sixth time. The others were impatiently shuffling from foot to foot on the long gravel drive, watching the dark, lifeless windows.

'Do you think he's asleep?'

'I don't know,' he replied.

'Do you think he's hurt?'

'I don't know.'

'If he's back but there's no portal, how does Uni get home?'

'I don't KNOW.'

'There's no answer. Do you think he's even in there?'

'...mmrrr...'

'I. Don't. KNOW!'

'...mmmMMMRRRUH!'

'Hank?'

Hank span around to face the others.

'Oh for the love of...'

'Hank?' repeated Bobby, watching the little unicorn with concern.

Uni had finally stopped cowering at Bobby's heels, and was slowly walking towards the left side of the house, seemingly transfixed and angered by one large window at the top left corner. She was tensed as she approached it, her ears flattened and her head lowered like an enraged cat. Most disconcerting, however, was the fact that she had begun to growl.

'What's she doing?' asked Hank.

Bobby started to follow her, at a safe distance. 'I don't know.'

'Maybe she senses something,' suggested Diana, joining Bobby as he trailed the unicorn.

'Eric!' Gasped Sheila, 'she senses Eric!'

'She's never growled at him like this before,' Presto muttered. He followed the unicorn's eyeline to the corner window, surrounded by a trellis of ivy. 'That is Eric's room, though,' he added, 'he told me he got that ivy planted so he'd have a way of sneaking out. Not to mention, back in again.'

Hank squinted at the dark window. He saw it too now - a hint of movement. 'Something's up there.'

'ERIC!' yelled Bobby, 'Eric, it's us!'

One of the window panes shifted open slightly, but no visible hand touched it, and no face looked down at them. Uni's growls grew wilder and angrier.

Diana leaned into Hank. 'I'm worried,' she whispered, 'this isn't right.'

Hank nodded, eyeing the ivy covered trellis up to the window. The Realm had already sent a mythical creature back to Earth in Eric's place once. There was no reason why the same mistake couldn't have happened a second time. And there was no reason why it would be something as benign as a baby unicorn this time.

'Agreed.' He turned to the others. 'I say we go and see exactly what we've got up there.'

The others nodded in agreement. Hank scooped the fretful unicorn up to place her gently in his gym bag along with his bow before slinging the bag over his shoulder and beginning the climb up to the ajar window.

Uni's growls melted into bleats of fear as she swung precariously in the bag on Hank's shoulder. Bobby, hot on Hank's trail along with the others, gave her a supportive smile.

'Don't worry, Uni. You're nearly there already.'

Indeed, at that very moment, Hank pushed the window completely open and pulled himself and the unicorn inside. Setting his bag on the floor, he got to his feet, slack jawed at the scene in front of him.

'Oh my God.'

Hank turned, still dumbfounded. It had been Sheila who had spoken, and was now climbing through the open window, followed by the others. Presto was the last into the room, and was so distressed by what he saw that he nearly let go of the windowsill, as Uni growled again, shrinking into the bag.

'Oh my God.'