"Hey!  Anybody here?!  I want my money back!!"

"You can stop yelling, Eric.  Listen."  All of them did as Hank suggested.  The sounds of a busy carnival midway had vanished completely.  No music; no machinery; no gunshots or screams or laughter.  Only the light rustle of a breeze, the murmur of a distant brook, and a few scattered birdcalls that would have been comforting anywhere else.

"This has gotta be just a different part of the park, right?" the auburn-haired boy with glasses said nervously.

"This isn’t our park, guys.  This isn’t even our planet."  Diana pointed up into the sky.  The others followed her gesture, and stared at a cluster of four suns, each a different size and color.  "My dad says there are some planets that revolve around twin suns, but this--.  It’s just impossible."

"Sis," the young boy said, clutching the red-haired girl’s hand, "what’s gonna happen to us?"

"I don’t know, Bobby, but don’t worry.  We’ll get out of this."

"Get out?  We don’t even know how we got IN!!"

Hank grabbed Eric by the collar.  "Would you excuse us for a minute, please?" he said to the others.  Without waiting for an answer he walked Eric a few paces over to the other side of the clearing.  He had done this many times before.  Eric, for all his family’s money, didn’t always know how to behave himself in public.  For years, Hank had taken it upon himself to keep Eric from doing himself too much damage.

"Look, Eric, none of us knows what’s going on here, and if it was up to me you could yell and scream as much as you want.  But if you start to panic, then the little kid’ll be next to go, and I don’t want that to happen.  Are we clear?"

"This is about the little kid, huh?" Eric smirked.  "I’ve seen the way you look at his sister—"

"Are?  We?  Clear?"

"Sure, sure.  Perfectly clear."

They walked back to the others.  "So," Hank began, "does anybody have any ideas?"

The red-haired girl spoke up: "Hank?  I have an idea."

"What is it, Sheila?"

"Why don’t we ask him?"

She pointed toward a boulder at the edge of the clearing.  Sitting atop it, wearing red robes with a gold design, was a kind-faced little old man, with a bald head that rose to a point like a small mountain above the fringe of gray hair he still had left.  A crystal of some sort hung about his neck.

"Greetings, young ones!  And my apologies for bringing you away from your world.  I assure you, it will only be for a short time."

"D-Does this mean we’ve been kidnapped?" the boy with the glasses asked.

"No, merely borrowed.  Something has gone very wrong here in this Realm, and only you six can set it right."

"Hold it," the black girl spoke up.  "You’re not telling us the ride broke down?  The Dungeons and Dragons Ride?"

"This is no ride, my dear; this IS the Realm of Dungeons and Dragons.  It is a place far from your world, where magic is still alive.  It is my job to keep all running smoothly here.  You may call me the DungeonMaster."

"Yeah?  Well, listen up, Your Smoothness.  We’re not repairmen.  Whatever’s wrong with your world, I doubt that any of us can fix it.  Except maybe," Eric smirked, "for Presto over there.  He’s into magic and stuff."

"WHAT?  Uh-uh, Eric, I just do card tricks; I can’t really--"

"So one of you dabbles in magic after all; how fortunate."  DungeonMaster waved his hand, and a glow enveloped Presto, making it hard for him to be seen.  When it faded after a few seconds, he was now dressed in green robes that trailed onto the ground.  Out from under the robes poked the toes of carpet slippers made of the same green material.

"Wow!" Presto marveled as he looked himself over.  "I’m finally dressed for the part."  He took the green conical hat from his head.  "Hey, DungeonMaster, this hat feels, well, like it’s alive!"

"That’s because it IS alive, with the magic that is the very life of this Realm.  You may try it if you wish, but be careful what you wish for."

"Okay."  He waved a hand over the hat, twiddling his fingers.

"Abracadabra alakazat
Make a rabbit come out of the hat!"

No sooner did he finish than a pink nose poked out of the green hat, followed by the head and ears of a white rabbit.

"Hey, guys, look!  I did it!  I--"  Presto stopped when the rabbit spread its wings and flew out of the hat and toward the horizon.

"Hey, Presto, you’re too young to be losing your hare!  Get it?!"  Eric chortled at his own wit.

Hank ignored him and turned to the DungeonMaster.  "Excuse me, but there’s a lot we don’t know about this place."

"I understand, and I’m afraid that I cannot tell you all that you need to know at one time.  But you will find most of the answers along the way.  Now, like your friend, you will all need new clothing and a new identity as you pass through the Realm.  I cannot be with you, but my magic shall.  I shall give each of you a gift, to aid you during your stay here."

Eric interrupted.  "Maybe this isn’t Earth, but let’s keep one thing straight: I don’t work for anybody else.  I’m a wholly-owned subsidiary of me.  I don’t mind being a knight, but I’m not serving you or anybody."

"How interesting," was all the little man had to say.  "Very well; in the Realm you shall be known as the Cavalier, the knight without a lord.  We haven’t seen one of those in years.  And for your protection--"

"I know!  I know!  I want one of those big round things you hit people with.  They have spikes!"

"Look at him go!" Sheila whispered to Hank.

"Like a kid on Santa’s lap," Hank whispered back.

DungeonMaster gestured again.  When the glow died down, Eric now wore a shirt of chain mail, iron boots and a short red cape.  A shield had materialized at Eric’s feet.

He picked it up and scrutinized it.  He probably didn’t know the first thing about armor, but the first rule of haggling, or so his father taught him, was to pretend that he did.  "So what’s the stopping power on this baby?"

"Anything."

"Anything?

"Anything.  Shall I demonstrate?"

"Huh?  Oh, yeah, sure."

No sooner had Eric spoken than DungeonMaster gestured toward a tree.  It had died some time ago but still stood rooted to the earth, reaching over a hundred feet into the air.  At DungeonMaster’s wave, the tree started to fall—directly onto Eric.

"Eric!"  Look out!" was all that Diana had time to yell.

Eric, more out of reflex than out of thought, brought up the shield.  The tree hit it, then sheared off to one side, leaving Eric untouched.

Eric, though, had closed his eyes, waiting for the impact.  The sound of the dead tree crashing to the ground still hadn’t convinced him.  When he didn’t feel crushed, he cautiously opened one eye, then both, then looked around.  Then he exploded: "ARE YOU CRAZY OR WHAT?!  YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME!!"

"I don’t see how, Eric," Diana said.  "That’s one powerful shield you’ve got there."

"And one thick head," Presto whispered to Sheila.  She giggled in spite of herself.

"I see your point," DungeonMaster was saying, "and I suppose that was a bit too dramatic.  Who would like to be next?"

"DungeonMaster, sir?" Sheila spoke up, a bit timidly.  "I don’t think I’m the weapon type.  Would you give something a bit more…"

"I understand," he smiled, and waved his hand.  When Sheila came out of the glow, it was in a fetching lavender dress (a bit shorter than she was used to) belted with a pale blue sash, and a purple hooded cape.  "That cape is the sign of what your language would call a "thief."  I’m afraid the elves have words that do not really match your own.  This cloak might also be called the weapon of a spy."

"Oh great," Eric stage-whispered to Diana: "Double-Oh-Sheila."

"Try it."

Looking a little nervous, Sheila drew the hood up over her head.   As soon as she did, it began to pulse with a violet glow; then, Sheila vanished.

"Sheila!" Hank called out, walking toward her, groping through the empty air for her.  Just a second after Hank passed through the spot where she was standing, Sheila reappeared.

"Wow!" Bobby said.  "Did that make you invisible?"

"More than that, Bobby; It made me disappear, like I wasn’t there.  Hank’s hands went right through…where I was."  She and Hank both blushed slightly as they realized where Hank’s hands might have ended up.

Eric started to speak, but Diana cut him off: "Watch your mouth, Eric."

"I didn’t say anything!  I was just thinking…"

"Well, watch what you think."

"And how about you, my dear?  What special role would you wish to enact on this quest?"

"She can just be herself," Presto spoke up.  "That’s pretty special."

"Presto—"

"He’s right, DungeonMaster," Hank added.  "Diana led our school track team to the state finals two years running."

"And won gold medals for herself both times," Sheila added.  "She really is something."

"Very well, then.  I hope you don’t mind."  When the glow faded from around Diana, she was dressed in an attractive, though somewhat primitive, outfit: halter and loincloth made from a bear or similar pelt, knee-high boots of the same material, and golden jewelry.

"Hey, Diana, you can’t blame me for what I’m thinking now!"

"Relax, Eric, I’ve worn less than this at track meets."  A jade-green staff lay at her feet.  "What’s this supposed to do?"

"All sorts of things, my dear; try it and see."

Diana held the staff in both hands.  As she looked down at it, it grew and changed, from a javelin to a vaulting-pole to a quarter-staff to a relay baton.  "Wow!  I could have used one of these back home."

"Now for you, young man," DungeonMaster turned to Hank.  "You seem to be the leader here."

"Well, we haven’t had an election yet…"

"Cool it, Eric," Presto muttered.

"I believe that I can entrust you with the most powerful of these weapons."  He waved; Hank was surrounded by the glow, emerging in green tunic and tights.

"Looks like Robin Hood’s here," Diana smiled.

"Yeah, but…"  Hank held up the magic weapon in his left hand: an unstrung longbow.  "This is a bit incomplete."

"On the contrary, Ranger; you have all that you need.  But you must take responsibility for how you use it.  Draw back the bowstring"

"But there’s no bowstring."

"Nevertheless."

Hank put his hand against empty air, not really expecting anything to happen, in spite of what he’d already seen.  As he moved his hand back just an inch, a bowstring and arrow seemingly made of fire appeared.  Hank raised the bow up, his eye following the shaft of the arrow until he happened to see a bird’s nest up in a tree.  He lined up on the bird’s nest, then turned to look at the DungeonMaster.

"What happens is up to you," the little man quietly said.

Hank drew back the magical arrow, then let go.  It flew through the air, straight toward the bird'’ nest.  At the last moment, it curved under the nest and evaporated into thin air.

DungeonMaster closed his eyes, smiled and nodded, as if he had been expecting this all along.

"How did you do that?" Hank asked.

"I didn’t, Ranger; your heart did.  It would not let you shoot to hurt any living thing.  And I have trust in all of you.  These weapons will do whatever you wish them to do.  I only brought you here because I knew you would wish for the right things."

"I’m honored, DungeonMaster.  You’re trusting me with your most powerful weapon…"

"Pardon, me, Ranger, but yours is not the most powerful."

"Of course not," Presto spoke up.  "It’s my hat."

"I fear not, Magician.  The strongest weapon goes to the weakest among you."  By the time all eyes turned to Bobby, he was already surrounded in the glow.  When it faded, it was to reveal a horned Viking helmet, a vest of studded, crossed leather straps, a furred loincloth and boots like Diana’s.  He also held a wooden club almost as large as he was.

"Pardon me, Mister Master," Eric piped up, "but I’ll bet Robin Hood here can still beat up Fred Flintstone."

"Watch your mouth, Eric!" Bobby said.

Eric simply rolled his eyes.  "Gimme a break."

"Young Barbarian," said the DungeonMaster, who had moved unseen from the boulder to stand among the group, "strike the stone where I was sitting."

Bobby walked over to the boulder, carrying the club as if it weighed nothing at all, and gave it a one-handed swing.  The boulder cracked down the middle.  Bobby grinned from ear to ear: "Neat!"  He swung harder this time, reducing one half of the boulder to gravel.

"You were saying, Eric?" Hank smiled.

"Okay, okay.  So we’ve got these trick-or-treat outfits and we’ve got weapons.  What else are we gonna get?"

"You will receive the undying gratitude of generations of beings here in the Realm, once you have set right that which has gone astray."

"Yeah, but what’s that worth in cash money?"

"ER-RIC!" the others shouted at him in unison—for the first time, but not the last.

"But really, DungeonMaster," Sheila added, "we will be able to get home from here, right?"

Presto glanced around the clearing.  "I don’t see any thing around here like a Yellow Brick Road."

"Your way home begins by going through the Forest of Know-Trees."

"Forest of no trees?  Hank, you talk some sense to this bozo, okay?  You can’t have a forest with no--"  Eric looked around.  "Where did he go?"

"Wherever he went, we’re on our own.  We’d better get started."

"Started where?" Presto asked.  "Which way do we go?"

"Let’s start by finding a hot dog stand.  I’m famished."

"I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Eric," Hank started to explain.  He was cut off by a high-pitched bleating.

Sheila turned, trying to locate the sound.  "What was that?"

"Sounded like a goat," Presto added.

"Alright!  And you said we’d have trouble finding food," Eric smirked at Hank.  "Maybe somebody’s having a barbecue."

"Barbecued goat?!" Sheila shuddered.  "That’s awful!!"

"Hey, Sheila, I’ll have you know that my folks took me down to Mexico one time, and we ate…"

"GIANT FROGS!"

"Well, I wasn’t going to say that, Presto…"

"NO!  LOOK!"  He pointed across the field as creatures burst out of the brush, running toward them.  In the lead was a small pony, the source of the bleating.  It was being chased by things that did indeed look like giant frogs.  These frogs, however, ran on two legs, wore a kind of uniform, chased the pony with crude weapons, and had mouths filled with teeth like a shark’s.

"Hey!  Leave him alone!" Bobby yelled as he ran toward the tree that almost fell on Eric.  Without really thinking about what he was doing, he reared back and swung his club at the fallen tree.  It splintered into three sections of trunk at once, each section flying toward a group of the frog-men, who scrambled to avoid it.

"Alright, Bobby!" Hank called out.  "Everybody!  Keep them split up!"  Hank took aim at a group of four on his side of the clearing.  Just as before, the arrow didn’t appear until he pointed his bow.  When he let go, the arrow of pure flame seemed to trail a golden cord behind it, which wound around the ankles of the four frogs, tripping them up.

"My turn!" Diana announced.  She picked out another group of frog-men and ran straight toward them, carrying her staff at face-height.  At the last possible second, she planted one end of the pole, vaulted into the air and landed on top of the frog-men, scattering them like leaves.

"Let me try this!"  Presto stepped forward, holding his hat in one hand and gesturing above it with the other:

"I wish I had a magic wand
To send these frogmen back to the pond!"

Purple smoke poured out of the hat; when it cleared, four of the frog creatures were stuck inside a giant fishbowl.

The little pony had meanwhile run to Eric and Bobby, and was hiding behind the shield.  Only now, when it was this close, that they could see the small but distinct alicorn on its forehead.

"Hey guys!"  Bobby yelled.  "It’s a unicorn!!"

The others looked to Bobby, and saw two of the frog-creatures dashing toward the unicorn from opposite sides.  But just as they leapt toward the unicorn, it rose up into the air, leaving the frog-things to collide with each other.

Eric backed away from the creatures, hiding behind his shield as best he could.  Bobby reared back threateningly with his club, and that was all it took.  The frog creatures turned and ran back the way they came.

The unicorn still hovered in midair, until Sheila removed the hood of her cloak.  When she appeared, she was holding the animal in one arm.  She set it down on the ground.  Happily, deliberately, it walked over to Bobby and bleated at him.

"Looks like you made a friend, Bobby," Diana said.

"Where d’you think he came from?"  Bobby asked.

Before anyone else could speak, Eric did: "From a mommy and daddy unicorn; where else?"

"You know what he meant, Eric," Hank said sternly.  "He got separated from his parents or herd or something."

"Wow!" Presto said, half to himself.  "A whole herd of unicorns!  I’d give anything to see that."

"Not me!  We’re not the Lost and Found for unicorns.  We’ve gotta find our own way home."

"Have a heart, Eric.  We can’t leave him here all alone," Diana said.

Sheila interrupted.  "Excuse me, folks, but that unicorn’s a she."

"Anyway, she’s too small to take care of herself.  I say she stays with us until we find some more unicorns."

"Alright!  Thanks, Hank.  Can I take care of her?"

"Sure."

"We gotta come up with a name—"

"How about ‘Rover’?"

"Er-ric…" Presto began.

"She’s a unicorn," Bobby went on.  "Why not just ‘Uni’?"

"You should have stuck with ‘Rover’," Eric muttered.

"We’re gonna call you ‘Uni’.  You like that, girl?"

The small unicorn gave a snort and nodded her head.

"And my name’s Bobby."

"AAAH-BEEE!" the unicorn said happily.

"Alright!  Did you hear that?  It said my name!"

"I’ll hold my applause until it says something useful, like how to get back home."

"We already know that, Eric," Diana said.  "We have to look for that forest with no trees."

"And how do we get there—by walking with no feet?"

Bobby ignored the argument.  "Come on, girl, say ‘Sheila’.  Sheila."

"AAAH-BEEE!"

Hank tried to keep from laughing as he touched Bobby’s shoulder.  "These things take time, pal.  Don’t worry about it."

"Yeah," Bobby’s smile grew even brighter.  "I’ll bet she’s talking as good as me by the time we leave."

Sheila pulled the helmet off her brother’s head and playfully mussed his hair.  "Well, some of us could speak a bit better than we do now."

"Geez, sis, we aren’t in school now!  Come on, Uni."

The unicorn bleated out a happy reply and trotted alongside Bobby down the path.  Sheila dropped back to walk beside Hank.  "Thanks for doing that.  Sometimes, when he’s the youngest one in the group, having nothing but older kids around him really make him feel out of things.  He’ll feel better looking after that unicorn."

"Yeah, well," Hank said, "I remember what that used to be like."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell you later.  Right now, let’s catch up to the others.  Maybe they figured out this ‘forest of no trees’ thing already."

"The Land of Blue Fire"