He raised a hand to do just that, but then he saw her look up, over and behind him, her face full of dread. The next thing he knew, Venger grabbed her and jumped just as a bolt of lightning hit right where she had been standing. Hank swung around. Tiamat! And Venger had just saved Sheila from her attack. He was torn between gratitude and jealous anger.

He ran toward Venger. He had to separate them. Tiamat was aiming for Venger. He was going to get Sheila killed! Not if I can kill him first! Hank leaped into the air and knocked Venger and Sheila both to the ground. With one swift movement, he meant to pierce Venger through the heart � if he had one � but Venger knocked the sword off its mark and was instead pinned through his left shoulder to the ground.

Venger growled in pain, but found his voice, "Fool! Tiamat will destroy us all!" He pushed Hank off and rolled to his feet. Clutching his shoulder, he said, "You and I are the only ones who can force her retreat, but only if we set our combined forces against her and not each other."

Was Venger actually suggesting they work together? Had to be a trick. Or maybe he was that desperate, being faced with two powerful threats. Hank didn't want Tiamat to retreat. He didn't mind the help. When he thought of it, he really didn't care if he struck the killing blow. All he wanted was to see him dead.

"Listen to him, Hank, please!" Sheila begged.

He ignored her. "Or I could kill you, Venger. Tiamat doesn't care about us. It's you she wants. Your death. And I doubt she cares who kills you."

"True. But you cannot kill me, not here. You had your one and only chance in the Dragons' Graveyard. Had I been in your place, I would have destroyed my enemy. But you preferred moral superiority. It was a false victory. A fool's victory."

"Shut up! You can't destroy me, either. But all I have to do is keep you here, and Tiamat will do my work for me."

"I was not planning on leaving," he said with a gesture toward his fallen steed.

Sheila got up and ran. Venger reached out to grab her, missed, and Hank automatically drew an arrow on him for it. He was glad she'd finally had the sense to run.

Venger smiled and spread his palms in appeasement. "Tiamat is the only one I fear, but I have evaded the dragon queen for over a millenium. Would you pursue me so long?"

Vines were clawing at Hank's feet. A strong wind blew against him, and the ground began once more to tremble.

"It seems you have other concerns, as well," added Venger with a smirk.

Hank couldn't help but notice that Venger was untouched by the wind. He still had the arrow aimed at Venger. Venger was lying, he decided. He could kill him; he was powerful enough. He increased energy to the bow and the rumble beneath his feet grew. He could deal with the Realm later, after he killed Venger. All he had to do was release the arrow.

Venger took a couple steps backwards.

"Think you can outrun an arrow?" Hank asked with a smirk of his own.

"I have no intention of running anywhere," Venger said with that insufferable smirk still planted on his face.

Hank prepared to release his arrow, one even more powerful than he'd shot in the Graveyard. I will free the Realm of The Force of Evil.

But then the black, monstrous flying horse landed between them � with Sheila on its back!

No! How?!

Without hesitation, Venger mounted behind her and, with a leap, they were in the air. The next instant, an intense wave of heat enveloped him from above. But Tiamat's fire did not burn him. The shield prevented harm. He looked only to Venger and Sheila, high in the air. And then Tiamat was flying for them, screeching, and looking and sounding more determined than ever to finish him.

Hank watched as Tiamat closed the distance and thought of Sheila. What could he do to save her? A voice inside him told him it shouldn't matter what became of her now; she had betrayed him, betrayed them all. But he didn't like that voice.

Still, he only watched as Venger dodged the dragon and fired powerful orbs at her great head. But then another head struck true. Venger was hit with her lightning in his back. Even from such a distance, Hank heard Sheila scream as both fell from their mount.

"No!!" Hank shouted as like a comet through the heavens he raced to try to save her.

Tiamat dived and sprayed fire down upon them. The last Hank saw of them, Venger had pulled Sheila to him and wrapped his wings around her. When Hank realized the acid head was about to attack, he hurled the sword, javelin, and trident at her. Each pierced a different head and Tiamat screamed as she fell.

Hank saw the black horse diving for Venger.

Tiamat soon righted herself and thankfully flew far off into the distance. Hank reclaimed the weapons, hoping she wouldn't return. Perhaps Tiamat believed she had killed Venger. Had she? He ran to where Venger and Sheila had fallen, but before he could get close, Venger's creature charged and reared at him, forcing him to shield himself against flaming hooves. He found that he actually didn't want to try to kill this thing a second time. Right now, he only wanted it to understand that he had to get to Sheila.

Of course, it was in no mood for understanding. And he decided it had every right to attack him. Hank found he actually regretted using his powerful magic to put it to sleep.

Hank wasn't ready for the sight awaiting him � the sight of Sheila, crying over Venger. And Venger, with burnt wings and blackened skin showing through his shredded clothing. Why did he feel no elation at his motionless body? He didn't know how, but knew he was still alive. If there was ever a moment to strike a final, fatal blow, this would be it. Why wasn't he doing it?

Sheila jerked her head toward him. "No, Hank, no," she choked out through her tears. "He saved my life! He was trying to get away. He wasn't going to fight you!"

"He only saved you because he needed you as a prisoner."

"Does it matter? Besides, I offered myself as a prisoner."

"You what?"

"And if you still want to kill him, well, you'll just have to get through me."

Before Hank could decide what to think about this declaration, Eric was there.

"And me," said Eric, moving to stand between Hank and Venger.

"And me," Diana said as she came to stand beside Eric.

Presto came to join them, but wasn't as quick as those before him. "Me, too. Sorry, Hank."

Bobby finally joined his sister. There were tears in his eyes. He got down beside her and hugged her tightly.

"Bobby! You�re all free!" Sheila said as she hugged her brother.

"The cage just disappeared," he explained. He held her more tightly, "I thought you were gonna die."

"I'm OK, Bobby."

Hank almost felt like crying, himself. What have I done? All my friends are against me. Dungeon Master is against me. . . . He warned me I'd lose more than I'd ever gained. I'm even losing myself.

Then there was a voice behind him. "It is time to choose, Ranger," said Dungeon Master. The weapons from the Graveyard were laid out in front of him.

Hank went and knelt before him. "I didn't mean for all this to happen, Dungeon Master. I wanted to do good. I wanted to help everyone. But it went all wrong. I went all wrong," he admitted, bowing his head.

"It's like they say, Hank," Eric told him, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." Eric nudged Diana�s arm. "Read that in a story once." She rolled her eyes in response, but then smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Hank said. And he meant it.

"It was not entirely your fault, Ranger. The power you obtained from your weapons had been corrupted by Venger. You were not yourself."

Hank thought about that for a moment. "It makes sense now . . . all the hatred, all the overconfidence," he said in a voice barely audible.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready to have a working shield again. So, ah, how about it, Hank?" Eric said.

Hank looked at Sheila, who was looking at him from over Bobby's shoulder as she held him. How could he have forgotten where his true strength came from?

He held up a hand and studied its golden glow. A part of him still didn't want to give up the powers. He still felt he could do much good in the Realm with them. He still believed he could become that hero, and considered the possibility of overcoming the corruption in time. But was he prepared to roam the Realm alone? The Force of Good opposing The Force of Evil? How could he live as something his friends couldn't accept?

No, he couldn't. It would never be right, no matter how much good he could ever do. He realized that now. And he also realized something else.

"I know what to do; I know how to give the powers back."

It was ever so simple. All he had to do was . . . well, sort of tell the individual powers where he wanted them to be, to stay. He held one hand toward the weapons of the Graveyard, and one toward his friends, each with their own weapons. The powers flowed from him, back to where they all belonged. And he felt like his old self again. He found he did not feel less of a person, but felt right . . . just right. Except for a profound feeling of guilt, which he accepted as right, as well.

"Thanks, Hank," Presto said, smiling. "I thought I'd never do magic again!" He reached inside and threw out of a handful of glittering confetti. Uni shook off what landed on her.

Bobby let go of Sheila to test his club, and then behind him, Hank saw Sheila pull the healing net from where it had been tucked in her belt at her back. The net! I never had the net! For a split second, he wanted to be angry, but then he only laughed to himself. All along he'd thought he'd had all the powers. Like any bad guy, even Venger, he'd overlooked something. And that was how Venger's monster-horse had been healed. Sheila had done it. And now he saw her unfold it and knew she was about to use it to heal Venger! Inwardly, he fought himself not to rush over and stop her. It was quite a struggle with himself. As much as he didn't want to leave Sheila in Venger's presence, he decided it was probably best not be around when he woke up. He let Dungeon Master lead them away.

Sheila didn't care how it looked to anyone, she wasn't going to abandon him. After all, he had saved her life. Twice. She watched as his flesh turned from black to pale blue. The cloth, or whatever it was, came back together to cover him.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to look over her shoulder. "Dungeon Master!" she said as loudly as she dared. She was surprised to see him there. She felt like her father had just caught her out after curfew, and with a boyfriend. She felt her cheeks flushing and hoped Dungeon Master didn't notice.

"He is healing well, I see. Thank you, child," he said in a placid tone.

"It's lucky Hank forgot about the net in the Dragons' Graveyard. And it's lucky I found it."

"It is that," he agreed.

"It's not over, is it? Venger will never forgive Hank for Shadow Demon's death."

"Perhaps if you give him this. . . ."

He handed her a folded red cloth, which she unfolded out of curiosity. When she saw the black squirming bit of shadow, she gasped and quickly folded it again and set it on the ground beside her, not wanting to touch it more than she had to. When she looked up again, Dungeon Master was gone.

Venger was in a dim place, and Tiamat lurked somewhere. He hadn't seen or heard her, but he knew she was there. If only he could see! He had no power here. He was as weak as any common mortal. He felt his way around rocky corners, palming cold stone and straining to see in the darkness.

And then he saw the dragon queen. A black silouette. Before he could react, she blew black fire straight at him. It hit him cold, freezing. He couldn't run; his muscles wouldn't move. He was too cold. He fell. So cold. Frozen agony. Darkness.

And then there was warmth, warmth flooding his chest. And then he could see a hazy halo of fiery orange blossoming into view.

He bolted upright, only to be stopped by a pale and fine hand � a woman's hand. He looked around. There were the Young Ones, standing far away, while beside him was the Thief, Sheila, with her hand on his chest. He looked at her in shock. Tiamat, the cold fire. . . . Was it . . . a dream? He looked down at her hand, and then back into her eyes.

She quickly removed her hand, looking fearful. He was about to ask her what had happened, but then she said, "It's over. Please just go."

Over? It was far from over! He glared toward the Ranger, whom he could see now was truly . . . just the Ranger. That, of course, did not matter. Vengeance would be his.

"Here," he heard the girl say.

He looked down curiously at the red cloth she offered him.

"This is for you," she said.

He eyed her suspiciously as he took it. Oddly, she smiled at him. And then she stood and began walking away. He watched her for a moment, and then unfolded the cloth, carefully. And inside . . . a shred of Shadow Demon! He closed his mouth when he realized it was hanging open in astonishment. It would take time and care, but the shadow servant could be restored! He folded the cloth with the same care and stood, looking to the girl again. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

"Thief!" he called out. He couldn't bring himself to use her real name, especially not where others would hear. Besides, she was the Thief once more.

She turned around, and after a moment's hesitation, she returned to him.

"You . . . saved my life," he said.

"You saved mine," she replied with a coy shrug of her delicate shoulders.

Venger held out the net to her. She looked surprised. Whether it was distress from having forgotten it was with him, or from the fact that he was returning it, he couldn't tell, and it didn't matter. "Take it, and know that you need never fear me again. Do you understand?"

For a second, she only looked at him in awe. Then she smiled and nodded.

There. He had done it. Now it was time to leave before he did anything else out of character for him. He mounted the nightmare and took to the night sky.

Hank watched as Sheila walked toward him. He couldn't help it. He had to ask. "What did Venger say to you?"

"He thanked me for saving his life, and gave this back," she answered, holding the net up.

He chided himself for the urge to reach out and touch it, to take it from her, even. He was surprised Venger hadn't kept it for himself.

"Is that all he said?" He instantly wished he hadn't asked her that. It sounded rather demanding when all he'd meant was to take his mind from the net. He decided to blame after-effects of the corrupted weapons.

"Mm-hmm."

He felt she wasn't telling the whole truth, but he made himself put that off on after-effects, as well.

"I�m sorry for everything I did. Can you forgive me?�

"Of course I forgive you."

"Do you think they�ll forgive me?" he asked with a nod in the others� direction.

"I�m sure they will."

"I�ve got a lot to make up for,� he said as he put his arm around her, but she just smiled and turned her head away.

His own smile faded as he turned to look up behind him to watch Venger become a speck in the distance.

This isn't over, is it?

And something within him answered, No.