CHAPTER FIVE

Fellow Stranger

Dusk. Hank dropped an armload of firewood beside the sleeping mats Presto had supplied from his hat. He looked around. Everyone was busy making camp. Now was as good a time as any, he thought. He made eye contact with Diana and privately motioned her to follow him.

After a quick glance behind her, she slipped away to join him.

They walked toward the forest's edge together in silence, Hank preferring to wait until they were hidden by the trees before speaking. He was glad of the chance to talk to her alone. He had always valued Diana's insights, and he felt that now was definitely one of those times when he needed to hear them. When they were out of sight, they stopped. Propping himself against a tree trunk, he got right to the point.

"What did you think about what Donnova said?"

She looked at the ground, obviously still undecided on the matter herself. "I'm not sure what to think, Hank. She makes sense, as much as I hate to say it."

"Yeah," Hank said uneasily, looking away. "She definitely does not like Dungeon Master."

"I know! She's like Eric, only worse! And speaking of Eric, is it just me or is he edgier than usual these days?"

"You noticed that too, huh? I think he'll be OK. You know he's never handled being here as well as the rest of us."

"I don't know. . . . I think it's more than that. But, still, you'd think with Dungeon Master calling this our 'final quest,' he'd have cheered up a bit."

Hank shrugged. "Maybe he believes this time will turn out like all the others. And who knows? It might."

"We can't lose hope now. This time will be different. It has to." But Hank heard the unsureness in her voice.

He didn't want to think about what might happen if they were to fail this time. He wanted to believe that they were truly about to embark on their final quest that would end in their going home, but he had to admit to himself that he had his doubts. Every time a chance to get home ended in failure, he took it as a personal defeat. He was the leader, after all, and he'd seen his friends let down too many times. The nearer-misses were hardest, and Eric was the type to never let him forget each lost opportunity.

And then there was that look on Dungeon Master's face. He couldn't shake it from his mind. He couldn't help but feel there was something Dungeon Master was holding back. But most disturbing was the random element: Donnova. They didn't know her. How could they trust her? Even though it was Dungeon Master who brought them together, he couldn't feel comfortable after seeing how they got along � or rather, didn't.

He felt Diana's hand on his shoulder.

"We've got to stay positive about this, Hank. I know his attitude can be annoying sometimes. . . . Well, OK, most of the time. Just try not to let it get to you. Eric's just being Eric. And he's always been that way around Dungeon Master. He doesn't really mean it. But I get the feeling Donnova does."

Hank looked Diana in the eye. "She hates him."

She hesitated. "I wouldn't say that. She just�"

"You heard her, Diana. She called him the enemy. She hates him. I saw it in her eyes. Believe me, I know that look."

Hank immediately sensed Diana's concern at his words. He hadn't meant it to sound quite like it had. He was reminded of, and still regretted, having allowed his hatred to surface in front of his friends when he had decided to set out to kill Venger. He remembered how they had walked on eggshells around him for days after what happened in the Dragons' Graveyard.

I was aiming for his heart, if he even has one. Why the hell did I release him? If he finds out what we're doing, it's over, and it'll be all my fault.

"But try to see it from her side, Hank," Diana said, bringing him out of his brief reverie. "She's been here all alone; we've always had each other. I'd probably be bitter, too. Besides, we don't know what's happened between her and Dungeon Master in the past. We don't even know how long she's been here."

Hank sighed. "I guess you're right. It's not fair to judge her without knowing anything. I just don't like this. Dungeon Master said all our hopes are with that stone. And with the way she feels about him. . . ."

"She probably wants to get home just as much as we do. She'll do the right thing. Still, I'd be more comfortable if he'd given it to you."

"So would I. I just can't help but have a bad feeling about all this."

"I know what you mean."

Hank looked behind them and sighed. "We'd better get back."

When they returned from their talk, they found everyone sitting around a blazing campfire. Donnova's hair was brushed, the cut on her face had been cleaned, and her shirt � the color of dried blood, Hank thought � was as good as new. She sipped something hot from a cup as the rest of them ate. It looked like Presto had been busy.

Sheila, Bobby, and Uni to one side, Presto and Eric to the other, they listened intently as Donnova spoke. Diana took a place between Uni and Eric, straight across from Donnova. She left room for Hank, but he remained standing. They now listened, too.

"At first, I thought it luck. I wouldn't have been able to use the medallion at all if I hadn't been received by my Dark Patron on my homeworld. That's when I realized the Dungeon Master knew more about me than I liked."

"What do you mean 'Dark Patron'?" asked Sheila.

"It only means . . . well, it's part of our religion, you see. At birth, my people are pledged to different Dark deities by our parents, or by the family's priest, and hope to be received by one or more of them when we come of age," she explained.

"You mean you're evil?" Bobby blurted.

"Bobby!" Sheila scolded.

"Well, she said. . . . "

"Hey, don't knock it! Fight fire with fire, right?" said Presto. He looked up at Hank, who hadn't been there to hear the whole story. "She's beaten Venger single-handedly!"

Hank's eyes shot to Donnova, who looked a little put on the spot by such a vote of confidence.

"I've been lucky more times than not. I've done what I've had to do to survive here. I've learned how to take care of myself. I've had to, being on my own all this time. If the Dungeon Master had cared to introduce us sooner. . . ." She looked down into her cup. "But it didn't happen that way, did it?" she finished with a sour expression.

She now looked at Bobby and smiled. "Now, as for evil, young barbarian, nothing is ever as simple as 'good' and 'evil.' On occasion, I have been wronged by the Dungeon Master and spared by Venger."

"Venger has spared us before, too," Sheila was quick to say.

Hank didn't like how easily Sheila offered that information. He eyed her, feeling suddenly on alert.

"But Venger is evil. Dungeon Master said so," Bobby reminded them both.

"And do you always believe what the Dungeon Master tells you?" Donnova asked him.

"Yes."

Donnova leaned back, drawing in a long breath and slightly rolling her eyes. "Sometimes 'evil' only describes one who acts against a popular ideal. Is Venger always evil? Is Dungeon Master always good? Venger has, in the past, proven that he has some honor to him, and surely I'm not the only one who's been at the receiving end of the Dungeon Master's apathy."

Bobby cocked his head. "What's 'apathy'?"

She looked into the fire and her expression hardened. "It means that he does not always care to help when he so easily could," she answered as though an unpleasant example of such a time replayed in her mind.

"'Apathy' is Dungeon Master's middle name, if you ask me," Eric predictably threw in.

Donnova then looked into the eyes of each of the others, save Hank, who still stood, and grinned. "What if Venger sees us as the ones who are evil? We are trespassers here, whether we want to be or not."

Surprised looks from all around, but it was Presto who finally spoke. "That's ridiculous," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Yes, it is," Hank agreed in a severe tone.

At this, Donnova raised her head to find Hank glaring down at her. She returned the look at first, but then spread her arms and smiled. "Only a jest."

But Hank wasn't buying it. She was testing them, gaging their reactions. He was sure of it. But it was just a feeling. Nothing he could act on. He decided to let it go for now.

"So, how long have you been in the Realm, Donnova?" Diana asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

Hank finally sat down next to Sheila; Bobby moved to give him room.

Donnova turned her attention to Diana. "By the seasons . . . ," she began, looking thoughtfully to the sky, "nearly eight years."

"Eight years?" Presto said, sounding stunned. "We've only been here for� I don't know. Three?"

"That's a long time to be on your own," Sheila said.

"Any time spent in a place you don't want to be is too long," said Donnova ruefully.

Hank caught the private nod from Eric, which Donnova returned, and his bad feeling got just a little bit worse. But then something occurred to him.

"But we saw your sword within the past year. Did Dungeon Master just recently give it to you?" He had her sudden and complete attention now.

"Where did you see it?" She looked genuinely interested to know.

"That doesn't matter. We saw it," Hank said.

"I even sliced a big rock in half with it!" Bobby added. "Sort of."

"You don't trust me," she said, ignoring Bobby.

"I want to trust you. Just tell us how could it be in two places at one time?" Hank asked, as stern as before.

She hesitated, and Hank didn't like it. "I'm sure it wasn't. Who knows where the sword went when I tried to be rid of it? I never did," she said too casually for Hank's satisfaction.

"You're saying you tried to get rid of your weapon?" he asked incredulously.

Donnova nodded. "Yes. That's exactly what I mean. But it always returned to me, and so I still have it now," she said with a definite tone of wanting to end that line of conversation.

And so Hank let it end there. Instead, they ate and kept the topic to speculation about this "first prisoner" that they had to set free. They decided he must be very powerful to still be alive and able � no, possibly able � to send them all home.

They carefully avoided all talk about how great it would be to actually be home, to see friends and family again, but Hank knew they all were thinking about it.

They also questioned what might lie beyond Realm's Edge. Did the Realm just stop? Was there a "great wall"? The beginning of another realm? Nothing at all?

They would have talked the night away if Hank didn't bring it all to a close. "OK, guys, I know we're all wound up about what Dungeon Master said, but we have to get some sleep. If this really is our last chance to get home, we have to be ready for anything, so hit the sacks. I'm taking first watch."

"It's my night for first watch, Hank. Remember?" Diana said.

"I know. I'll wake you for second, alright?"

She gave him an understanding nod and went to lie down. One by one, the rest did the same.