Brighter than the stars, he mused. I am the light.

"Uh-oh," said Eric then, looking down at the ground.

"What is it?" Diana was quick to ask.

Everyone was now looking at Eric, including Hank, but Eric only lifted his head slowly in Hank's direction.

A growing rumble, and then the ground trembled.

"It's an earthquake!" yelled Presto as they all fought to keep their footing.

They grabbed hold of each other as the ground shook harder. The rumble filled Hank's ears as a crack opened, quickly widening and separating him from the others. Sheila was yelling to him from the other side as Diana pulled at her to get her away from the edge. He had to get to her!

As he was about to run and jump the gap, the ground underneath him was sucked under, bringing him down with it. He thew the javelin out to plant itself in firm ground, the whip right behind it to wrap around it, and jerked himself up and away from the black hole. A root lashed out behind him, caught him around the waist, and slammed him down. As it pulled him backwards along loose, jagged rocks, he saw Eric, grabbing Sheila and dragging her away with him! Her voice was drowned out by the thunderous rumble of the Realm, but he knew she was calling out to him.

No you don't, damn you!

Hank growled and twisted, shooting a red lancing bar of power, first at a new root speeding for him, and then at the one that already had him. He threw himself upright and flipped his way toward the gap faster than any mere human could. At the last inch of land, he produced the javelin again and used it to catapult himself across the newly formed chasm to Sheila.

"Hank," she cried with relief. She broke away from Eric and ran toward him, but then a wall of rock shot up between them, screeching all the way. Still, he could hear Sheila screaming on the other side. With an inhuman roar, he brought the club and mace together to hit the rock with all the power he could give them.

When the dust settled, it wasn't Sheila he saw first, but Dungeon Master. And the Realm went silent. He hated how Dungeon Master always knew how to make an entrance.

He saw his friends, crouched and huddled far behind their old guide. Hank glared at the old man, who was staring at him with that fatherly look, only this time with a touch of pity in his eyes.

"This is wrong, Ranger. Search yourself. This is not the way," Dungeon Master said.

"Why can't you understand what I mean to do? You have never defeated Venger as I have, and will again. And that's it, isn't it? You can't stand for a human, a child, to do what you aren't able to do? If you cannot destroy your enemy, then stand aside and allow someone who can!"

Dungeon Master gave him a stern look. "I urge you, Ranger, end this. The enemy you seek may not be the enemy you find."

"Enough of your riddles! And you well know I am not the Ranger! Not anymore. The Ranger is only one of many, and I am all." Hank watched for his old guide's reaction, and found Dungeon Master's quiet composure maddening.

Composing himself, he held his hands out in a gesture of peace. "All I ask is that you let me do what I am destined to do. Don't make me fight you! You don't know how easy it would be for me. . . ." Hank balled his fist and closed his eyes. He was surprised at the restraint he had to maintain not to throw everything he had at the meddlesome little man. He felt like his heart was about to implode.

What's happening to me? Never felt . . . so much hatred. But I need the power of my hatred. Venger must die! And I can't let anyone get in my way. Not even Dungeon Master.

Hank tried to speak as calmly as he could. "Just leave, Dungeon Master. Go. Now. I won't stop. And if you truly could stop me, you would have already." He wasn't sure if that was right, but surely it was. With the anger he felt, he really didn't care if Dungeon Master was still more powerful than he was. He'd fight him anyway.

"It's not Dungeon Master! It's the Realm itself!" Eric suddenly shouted. And then he stopped, as though realizing what he'd just said. "Hey! Hey, I'm right, aren't I, Dungeon Master?"

"That is correct, Cavalier," Dungeon Master answered, never taking his eyes from Hank's. "No one being was ever meant to be a vessel for all the Objects of Power. Each weapon is meant for one, and each must come together in friendship. The burden is not meant for one alone."

"I choose to be alone in this. I accept that burden."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Very well, Hank." Dungeon Master turned and walked away, to vanish behind a portion of the broken wall.

Hank was still looking to where the old man had disappeared when Sheila all but crashed into him in a tearful embrace. He automatically put his arms around her. No, she'd never turn on him. Not his Sheila.

"Hank, please listen to Dungeon Master! Remember last time? When you wanted to get rid of Venger? Remember when Dungeon Master said that course could only lead to ruin? Just let things go back to the way they were! Please!" she begged.

He grabbed her arms and held her away from him. How quickly his love of her had turned to disgust! He hated what he saw. Fear. Fear of him. How could she say these things? What more did he have to do to prove himself to her? What was it going to take to make her finally understand? He let her go when he felt the urge to crush her arms.

"You said you trusted me, Sheila, believed in me. But you're just like the others. You want to stop me, too! You're on Dungeon Master's side! Will you try to kill me next?"

"No! I don't want you to get hurt."

"What about us getting hurt!" Eric said. "The Realm's likely to come crashing down on all of us because of him!"

"I'll protect all of you . . . whether you agree with what I'm doing or not," said Hank, feeling they all should have been humbled by his words. Then he felt the wind pick up.

"I don't want your protection!" Eric yelled contemptuously. "And you're not our leader anymore, not as far as I'm concerned!"

That struck him, and it stung. Hank looked at the others, who were looking away with their heads all bowed. What was going on? He was right, wasn't he? He had the powers, was willing to use them to help everyone. . . . Venger was the enemy. How could his friends not be on his side? He looked to Sheila last. "And what about you, Sheila?"

"I. . . ." But then her eyes filled with tears.

"I want you with me," he told her. "If you alone believe in me, then that's all I'll need."

She only shook her head and backed away toward the others. So that's how it would be.

The wind was getting stronger. There was a brief tremble beneath his feet. Strange how all was still and quiet when Dungeon Master was there. Another wave of hatred crashed on the shores of his mind.

There was nothing strange about it at all, as far as he was concerned. And backing up the idiotic thing that Eric had said, about how it was the Realm itself attacking him. . . . That was desperate, even for Dungeon Master. Did he think he was that gullible? All he was trying to do was set his friends against him! Fine. He said he would see this through alone, and he'd meant it.

There was nothing else to say. It was time to get to work. He left without looking back.

How could he fight an enemy he could not find? He had ridden the nightmare weary through the night skies. Yet he knew if only he waited long enough, the Ranger would find him in time. The Ranger had gone mad with power. The madness of obsession. The obsession to kill him. Venger stared into the pool, feeding it more and more power. Was he still in the Dragons' Graveyard? Or was he so powerful now that he could cloak himself and the rest of his group from any seeing power?

Restlessly, he paced around the pool. What he needed was Shadow Demon. He should have summoned a replacement by now. Why hadn't he?

He remembered when he first knew the demon. He had despised it. And he had resented his master for forcing a companion on him. It made him feel his master did not entirely trust him. All he wanted for so many years was to be rid of it. So many times he had considered eliminating it. But over time, he had allowed himself to grow dependent upon it, and over an even greater time, to even become somewhat fond of it. Maybe he would remain alone for a time. . . .

Around the pool again he went. Still nothing. He needed eyes on the ground throughout the realm. Orcs, Simian bats, Lizard Men . . . all the spies he could gather. But would any of them survive long enough to report back to him? Venger thought of all the slain orcs. He thought again of Shadow Demon. No, he thought, this was something he alone would have to deal with.

Movement caught his eye. There! At last! In his excitement, he actually dropped down onto his knees at the edge of the pool and gripped its edge with both hands. And there he saw the Young Ones! There they were, out in the open, but the Ranger was nowhere to be seen. Would he really leave them undefended? Was he still so much the fool?

He saw the destruction there, too � the freshly and violently disturbed land. Yes, the Realm rejects him! He does not understand. He does not know! This would work very much in his favor. The Realm itself was his unwitting ally. There were still secrets that only the oldest in the Realm remembered.

A blast suddenly rocked the castle. Dust and debris rained down on Venger. The Ranger! The waiting was over. He couldn't afford to pass up this chance. He had to go before he lost this opportunity. If could not fight against the Ranger, then he would bargain with him. And so he needed prisoners. He stealthily left his enemy to destroy his castle. Small loss. He had others. And there was much to gain.

From high above, Venger spotted the leaderless Young Ones, and seconds later, they spotted him. They ran, cowardly fools that they were. But then one slowed, stopped, and then turned to face him. What was the Thief doing? The others now were turning to run back for her.

He could have swooped down and captured them all at once, but Venger's curiosity was peaked. He went down fast to land sharply before the Thief, throwing soil at her dress and causing her would-be rescuers to stop in their tracks behind her. They were making this too easy, he thought as he dismounted.

"Where is Hank?" the Thief asked.

Bold of her, he thought. "He will come. Soon. And when he arrives, he will give up his powers, or you all will suffer."

The little Barbarian ran to be with his sister. "You'll be the one suffering, Venger! Just wait until Hank gets back! He'll show you!" And then the Thief was pushing him back and telling him to go back to the others. What was the girl up to?

"Take me as your prisoner, Venger. Leave my friends alone," she said.

"What!" the Acrobat shouted.

"Are you crazy?" said the Cavalier.

"No, Sis!" The Barbarian this time.

"Silence!" he commanded the young fools. Turning back to the Thief, he asked, "Why should I take you, alone, when I could have all of you?"

She looked down at the ground, and then up into his eyes. "Because I'm all you need. And it would be easier for you to handle one prisoner, rather than all of us. I'll be enough."

His was the stronger argument, he knew. It was just as easy for him to take all as to take one. But it was too intriguing an offer. Still, he knew not to underestimate any of them. Was this a ploy? If it was, he had to admit that he could not see how it would benefit them.

"Why do you do this, Thief?"

"Because . . . Hank has to be stopped," she said in a small voice. "And it's 'Sheila.' I'm not the Thief now," she said. And then in a tone barely audible: "Never really liked that name anyway."

Venger cocked an eyebrow � the only expression of surprise he was willing to display. Impressive, this one.

"Very well." Had she just given him permission to use her true name? "I accept your offer. But I will not allow your friends to interfere. They will remain here." And with that, he threw a glowing cage to envelop them all. The futile sounds of their shock and protests amused him. The Thief, Sheila, was the only one who said nothing to this.

He held his hand out to her, enjoying the fear of him he saw in her eyes. But reach out she did. She took his hand. The warmth of her trembling hand surprised him on a different level. He had forgotten humans had that living warmth.

Behind him, the nightmare shrieked in pain. Venger spun around to see the creature reared, fiery hooves kicking. A glowing trident's prongs were buried deep in its neck. Sheila screamed. Then the trident was ripped out and the nightmare fell to the ground on its side.

Venger was stupefied. He ran to the nightmare and began to kneel at its head, but something was pulling at him. It didn't register at first that the Thief was pulling at his arm and yelling for him to get up. He stood and then took his lone hostage by the arm.

"Get your hands off her!" the Ranger roared in a voice not unlike his own.

His hot attention was instantly on the Ranger. He released the girl and balled his fists, which both ignited with silver flames. The Ranger's body in turn lit with a fiery luminescence. Venger knew his chances against the combined powers were slim, but he was too enraged to care. He ached to kill the Ranger! All else was forgotten. There was nothing but hate . . . and vengeance.

And then the Thief was between them, facing the Ranger. "Hank! Listen to me! You have to stop! Venger isn't the enemy here. Not this time."

"What are you saying, Sheila?"

Such a tone to take with a woman, Venger thought with something akin to glee. He decided to see how this would play out.

"I heard what Dungeon Master said. He said, 'The enemy you seek may not be the enemy you find.' He was talking about you, Hank! Don't you see?"

"How can you defend Venger! He's twisted your mind!" Hank said.

"It's your mind that's twisted. It's all the power. It's changed you! You have to let it go!"

"But it's changed me for the better, can't you see? I can save the Realm! I can make Dungeon Master send us home!"

"You call this better? I don't even know you anymore!"

That got the Ranger's attention, Venger noticed. He was quite enjoying this � the contempt in her small but potent voice. He couldn't help but smile. Killing him after he'd been denounced by the one he was closest to would be so much the sweeter now. The Ranger would die with her words resounding in his ears.