They didn’t notice the large winged creature gliding down toward them until Uni glanced up and started bleating.  Then they all looked up.

“Oh no!” Eric cried out, as usual the first to panic.  “Venger at twelve o’clock!”

“Everyone scatter!” Hank called out, running for the shelter of a copse of trees.

It wasn’t until the kids had run several yards that they realized that Uni was still back in the clearing, waiting for the winged shape and stamping joyously.

“ALL RIGHT!  CHECK IT OUT!” Bobby called to the others, running back to the clearing as they watched the gigantic eagle settle to earth, letting its rider dismount.

“It’s Dekion!” Sheila cried out joyfully.  The kids all turned and ran back to Dekion, waving and yelling.  He was the most welcome sight they’d seen in a long time.

“We knew you’d be back,” Hank said, with a glance over at Eric.  Eric had been convinced they’d never see Dekion again.

“I could never forsake you children,” Dekion’s voice echoed on the plain.  “If you had felt the centuries I had been imprisoned in that ghastly shape by Venger…”

“Why doesn’t anybody in this Realm ever get to the point,” Eric muttered.  Diana heard him and punched him on the arm.

“I’m almost afraid to ask this,” Presto spoke up, “but did you find anything?”

“That is why I have been seeking you these many days,” smiled the last of the Celestial Knights.  “I believe that I have found a passageway to your world, not three days walk from here.”

The children all cheered at this.  “It’ll be night soon, and you must be tired,” Sheila said.  “Why don’t we all rest here tonight?”

“Of course,” Dekion said.  “I wish to hear of your adventures since we parted.  I sense that things have changed among you.”

“You ain’t just whistlin’ ‘Dixie’, Dekkie old pal,” Eric said.

“NNGHUH??”

“Don’t sweat it, Uni,” Bobby said, ruffling the unicorn’s mane.  “Sometimes we don’t understand him, either.”

Even Eric had to laugh at that as they gathered firewood.  Soon they were all seated around the fire, bringing Dekion up to date about their adventures, while Dekion’s warbird kept an eye out for danger.  The bird’s vision was quite acute, which meant that ShadowDemon actually had to crawl along the ground like a serpent and get a hundred yards away before he felt safe to rise up and fly toward Venger’s castle.

They talked late, but Dekion offered to keep watch.  “It comes from years of sleeping on the wind,” the Celestial Knight said.  “Many a time my warbird carried me asleep in the saddle.”

“Good thing you never fell off.”

“It happens, even to Celestial Knights, Cavalier.  It is part of our training: to become one with our warbirds, and live in his rhythms, as he learns to live in ours.”

“I just hope it’s smooth sailing from here to the portal.”

“Do not worry, Magician.  In my travels I did see a troop of Orcs; hundreds of soldiers on their way to some battle.  But they were headed south, and will not interfere.”

“That’s a relief,” Sheila said.  “We’re not ready for them this time.”

“Is something amiss?”

“Well,” Hank began, “I’m still not sure why, but we gave up our weapons just before you found us again.”  And Hank proceeded to tell Dekion of their argument with DungeonMaster, and the replacing of their weapons with the wild magick.

Dekion sat still during Hank’s story.  The others couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but the knight’s face seemed to grow dark and stern as Hank spoke.  Finally, the story ended, and Dekion rose.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“It would have been better for you all if you had never heard of the wild magick.  The Celestial Knights had masters of almost all of the magical arts in our ranks, but the wild magick will not be mastered.”

“Gosh, is it that hard to learn?” Presto asked.

“You must understand me.  The wild magick would allow no one to master it.  The wild magick makes its own decision as to who shall be its master.  It was only after years of observation that the wild magick allowed DungeonMaster to control it.”

“You make it sound like the wild magick is, well, alive,” Sheila said, her voice involuntarily dropping to a whisper.

“All magic is alive, my friends.  That is the first lesson taught to a Celestial Knight.  Magic could not exist without life itself; without trees in the ground, without birds in the air, without rivers and lakes and oceans.  All magic, for good or evil, is part of life itself.  The difference is that the wild magick knows that it is alive.  It is the only magic that is aware of itself, even though it cannot act by itself.”

“You mean it THINKS?” Presto asked, wide-eyed.

“Not as you and I understand thinking, but yes.”

“Then why hasn’t it told us how to get home?” Eric asked.  “Or doesn’t it talk to itself?”

“It must trust its master completely.  Please do not ask me more, for I cannot tell you  more.  I am still amazed that the wild magick allowed itself to be cast out of DungeonMaster and into you.”

“Please,” Diana said, involuntarily grabbing Dekion’s arm, “at least tell us this much.  If we make a mistake or do something wrong, will the wild magick go away and leave us?”

Diana looked so worried in that moment that Dekion felt an impulse that he had not known for literally centuries: he wanted to take the child into his arms, comfort her, reassure her that she and her friends would be safe…   But he knew better.  “The wild magick will do what it will do.  Forgive me, but I cannot tell you what I do not know.”

Without another word, Diana let go of his arm, turned and stared into the fire.  She was still staring into the fire when the others had drifted off to sleep.  She looked as if she were intent on solving a problem that had no solution.

“Master, I bring news!  Dekion has returned!”

“Has he, ShadowDemon?  And where is he?”

“With the young ones.  They must pass through the White Wood to reach the portal.”

“Excellent.  Go to the Orc Commander.  Tell him that the time has come.”  He rose from his cold granite throne and crossed the dark room.  “The time of victory,” he said, to no one in particular.

Hank came awake as the first sun started to rise; it had become an instinct within him by now.  The warbird looked over at him, gave a mighty scream, took off and began circling directly overhead.  The others began to wake up as well.

As the others walked to the woods to forage for breakfast, Presto said, “Hey, guys, why bother?  Maybe I can whip something up out of my hat.”

“Presto,” Sheila said softly, “there is no more hat.”

Everyone stopped what he was doing.  The change in their lives really hadn’t hit them until that moment.  It wasn’t just the hat that was gone; all of their magic was gone.  And it was replaced by…what?  None of them knew, except maybe for Dekion.  And he clearly didn’t like talking about it.

Still, Presto felt that he had to ask.  “Excuse me, Dekion, but DungeonMaster said we’d learn about the wild magick from a…what did he say?…a grandma.”

“He said a grammer, you moron,” Eric snapped back.

“I believe you mean a gramerye,” Dekion corrected them both.

“Well, do you know what it is?  And where it is?”

“I do not know where it is.  But to reach the portal to your birth-world, we must pass through the White Wood.  You might well find your answers there.”

“Why is this White Wood so special?” Hank asked.

“The White Wood is a place of high magic, a focus for many of the powers of the Realm.  You told me of your visit to the Dragons’ Graveyard; the White Wood is also such a place.”

“You mean we’ve gotta go to another boneyard?” Eric whined.

Dekion smiled.  “The White Wood takes its name from the color of the trees that make up the wood.  You will find nothing of danger there.”

The walk that day was uneventful, even though the kids’ nerves were starting to get tense.  They’d learned not to put too much hope in reports of a way home; all those hopes had been dashed so often.  Yet they did not give up hope entirely.  And now they had more reason to hope.  Dekion was back, and was personally taking them to the portal.  Things were going their way again.

That afternoon they reached a forest of white birch trees.  Each tree in itself was nothing special; not too high, a little too thin.  But as soon as they set eyes upon it, they knew this forest was something different.

The White Wood was indeed one of the most powerful places in the Realm; magic saturated the very air.  They half expected that they would turn into some different order of being just by inhaling the mystic forces around them.

One advantage of a place like the White Wood was that it would keep watch even when Dekion or the children could not.  “We will not be hurt here,” the Celestial Knight said as they settled around the fire.  “The White Wood simply would not allow it.”

“Oh, like it has a choice?” Eric sneered.

“It has more than a choice,” Dekion warned.  “It has the power to enforce its choice.  Take care what you say and do here.”

Their talk was hushed and circumspect.  None was sure what the morning would bring.

At one point just before moonrise, when several of the children had already nodded off, Presto tapped Eric on the shoulder.  “Hey, Eric, I don’t know why, but I’ve got this urge to look around.  Want to come with me?”

“Forget it,” Eric yawned.  “This knight is calling it a day.”

Presto too was exhausted, but he found that he simply couldn’t fall asleep.  He tossed and turned, drifting fitfully in and out of sleep, until he no longer knew sleeping from waking.  At that point, his outstretched hand brushed up against a fabric he thought he remembered.  Without even thinking about it, he grabbed it and muttered a spell:

“Magic hat, hear my rhyme;
Just let me see her one last time.”

“That isn’t a hat.”  At the sound of the voice, Presto’s eyes flew open.  Under the light of the three moons, he saw that his hand had brushed up against the hem of a skirt.

“VAR…”

She put a finger to his lips to silence him, then helped him to his feet.  They walked a few yards into the woods.

“Varla, what are you doing here?  How did you find me?”

“The same way you found me, Presto.  I found you with my heart.”

Presto tried to speak, but nothing was coming out.  Varla smiled, leaned into him and kissed him.  Whether or not it was a dream, Presto knew a nerd like him would never get a chance like this again; he kissed back.  Time vanished for the duration of that kiss.  When they finally broke and Presto tried to catch his breath, he noticed that Varla was not dressed in a nightgown, as he remembered her.  She wore a simple dress, like her mother’s.

“Shouldn’t you be with your folks?”

“I am with them.”

“But…but you’re here.”

“It’s what we both want.  Our last chance to be together.  Soon it will be time for you to leave.”

“You mean tomorrow?  The portal that Dekion found?”

“I don’t know anything about that.  I only know that I must help you to find something.  Something that you need.”

“Well, if we do go home tomorrow, we probably wouldn’t need the gramerye.”

“Gramerye?”

“It has to do with the wild magick.”

Varla looked at him in silence, as if trying to read something in his face.  Then she knelt down by a patch of dry ground.  She traced a figure in the dirt; it was a line that ran straight up, then split into two lines, then joined into one again.

“There is a tree here in the White Wood,” she said, “that has grown in this shape.  It is what my village calls “the parted lovers”.  Even though they are apart, they were one before, and shall be one again.”

Presto couldn’t say a word.  He just stared at Varla, who never looked more beautiful to him, and who now seemed to be trying to tell him of a deeper mystery…

Varla stood suddenly.  “I have to go,” she announced, then turned to leave.

“Wait a minute!  Can’t I even say goodbye?  And what about the tree??”

Varla turned.  Even though she had stopped walking, she seemed to continue moving into the distance.  “Look for the tree.  And wait for me, for we shall be together again.  Watch and wait, my love…”

And she was gone.

Boy, he thought, and I thought dating would be strange in MY world.  He looked around and saw that he had followed Varla…well, it looked like Varla…no, it definitely was Varla.  Anyway, he had wandered well into the White Wood, and away from the others.  It was too dark to look for the tree now, so he made his way back to the camp.

There, the warbird was the only one awake.  It eyed him noiselessly as he settled back down on the ground.  Diana was next to him, and she also seemed to be having a restless sleep.  At one point she turned in her sleep, her hand landing a few inches from Presto.  On an impulse, he reached out and took her hand in his own.

She seemed to relax at that, settling into a deeper sleep and sighing a single word: “Kosar.”

Must be lotsa strange dreaming going on tonight, Presto thought as he finally fell into sleep himself.

The children rose with the suns.  Somehow it all felt final; that today it would finally be over.  Dekion would lead them to the way home.  It didn’t cause rejoicing, though; they just wanted to find the portal and get it over with, to get back to their families and their friends and their old lives.

As they walked away from the White Wood, Presto realized that he hadn’t searched for the tree.  “Er, Hank,” he started.

But Eric cut him off.  “Later, okay, Presto?  We got a lot to worry about here.”

But what could Presto have told them?  That something was buried under a tree with a hole in it.  I can hear Eric now, Presto thought: “the only thing with a hole in it is your head!”  In any case, he was beginning to feel like the others: that the way home was finally just around the corner.

After an hour crossing the plains, they topped a small hill and saw it, as they had seen it so many times before: a magic portal, suspended in midair.  Within it, playing like the most wonderful movie ever made, was the amusement park, with rides in motion and banners waving and people laughing and yelling.  It was just a few steps away now…

“HOLD IT!” Hank yelled, trying to stop the others.  “Where’s DungeonMaster?”

“Who cares?!  Let him get his own portal!”

“Eric, he said we’d see him again.  He said he’d either send us home himself or finish the battle we couldn’t fight.”

“Look, why are you worried about that doofus anyway?  We finally have a chance to get home, without his help!  I say we go for it!”

Hank turned to Dekion.  “Is this the way home?”

Dekion nodded.  “Just as I saw it many days ago.”

Eric turned on Hank.  “There, see?  He says it’s okay.  So why are we wasting time…”

Eric was interrupted by the sharp cry of the warbird.  It had risen up into the air; now it saw Uni inching her way toward the edge of the portal.  Before she could get within a foot of it, though, the great eagle dove into the portal…

and came out the other side a screaming ball of fire.

“NO!!” Sheila screamed.  Dekion ran to the great bird, now a charred body on the ground.  It raised its head to Dekion, as if to speak, then the head fell back onto the ground.

“Was that supposed to be us?”  Hank’s voice was cold and level, his hands clenched into fists.

Dekion turned to him; tears were streaming down the Celestial Knight’s face.  “I did not know this would happen; how could I?”

“So again we meet, Dekion.”  None of them had to look to see who was speaking.  “And again you have foiled my plans.  I assure you, it is for the last time.”

Dekion rose and put a hand on Hank’s shoulder.  “You must run, all of you; back to the White Wood, then into the foothills.  I will stop Venger from following you.”

“But you can’t!” Presto interrupted.  “Venger’s way more powerful than you.”

Dekion smiled.  “I am the last of the Celestial Knights.  The others have moved on to the next world.  Even my warbird has gone ahead to wait for me.  Perhaps it is my fate to follow them today.  But I will stop Venger from hurting you, even if it is with the last of my strength.  Now go!”

“Give me the weapons!”

As the children ran back to the shelter of the White Wood, they heard Dekion draw his sword and defy Venger: “You will get nothing of theirs today!  But you shall pay for what you did to my warbird!  Your tyranny is at an end!”

Without weapons, they didn’t dare stop or turn around to look.

“Hank,” Presto gasped, “how do you think Dekion is doing?”

Before Hank could speak, a bolt of lightning hit the ground to their left.

Eric shrieked and put on even more speed.  “Does that answer your question?!”

Only five yards away now from the White Wood.  It was here that Uni stumbled.

“UNI!!” Bobby halted in his tracks.

“Bobby, run!”  Sheila yelled from behind him.  “I’ve got her!”  Without breaking stride, she reached down as she ran, scooped up Uni and threw her toward the White Wood.  The unicorn landed on her hooves and galloped the rest of the way, while Sheila literally dove into the trees.

“Good goin’, sis!” Bobby smiled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eric muttered, “give her a Heisman Trophy out of petty cash.”  He didn’t have to say what was on his mind.  For the first time, they’d had to run from Venger instead of stand and fight.  And Dekion had sacrificed himself so that they could run.  Now they hid in the White Wood, letting the magic of trees protect them.

Presto wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his gown.  “We couldn’t help him.  We couldn’t even help his eagle.”

They sat silently for a few more minutes, listening to Venger continue his futile bombardment of the White Wood, before Eric said, “So, any words of wisdom, Fearless Leader?”

Hank looked as if he was at the end of his patience and probably would have punched Eric out, but he remembered something, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “Now we look for the gramerye.  We don’t dare take a step out of these woods unless we know something about this wild magick we’ve got.”

“Hey guys!” Presto spoke up.  “I think I know where it is.  It’s here in the White Wood, somewhere.”

“How do you know, Presto?” Sheila asked.

“Well, I had a dream about it last night.  We’re supposed to look for a tree with like a hole in the middle…”

“The only thing around here with a hole in it is your head!” Eric shouted.  “Are we supposed to take orders from the Fairies of Dreamland now?”

Before any of them realized it, Presto was on his feet and in Eric’s face.  “It wasn’t fairies!  It was Varla!  She was in my dream!  She told me what to look for!  And I don’t care how much money your folks have got, if you say one more word about her…”

“Alright!  Alright!”  Eric backed off, which was easier when Diana was pulling Presto off of Eric.  “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Take it easy, Presto,” Diana said softly.  “Sounds like last night was big one for dreams for both of us.”

“So tell us, what did she say?”

Presto drew a picture on the ground of the way the trunk separated, then rejoined.  “This is what we’re supposed to look for.  I think it’s buried nearby it.”

“All right, then.  Everyone spread out, and holler when you find it.”  Hank walked toward where Venger had been attacking the forest.  He seemed to have stopped, at least for the moment.

Presto, for his part, looked around and started toward what he figured was the center of the White Wood.  He reasoned that if the magic had to protect something in the wood, the center would be the safest.

And he was right.  There at the exact heart of the White Wood was a silver birch with the trunk as Varla had described it: splitting into two, then joining into one.  Presto shouted to the others.

Presto was feeling like the man of the hour.  This would be his chance to show everyone that he was worth more than card tricks.

“So here’s the tree, but now what?”

Presto was just starting to answer, walking as he did so, when his foot caught in a root from underground.  He fell flat on his face, arms out stretched.  But as he started to rise up, spitting out dirt as he did, his fingers in clawing the earth scraped against something leathery.

The others all crowded around to see.  “Sorry, Presto,” Eric said, “but that just looks like someone’s address book.”

It didn’t seem to be much; a small, weathered-looking notebook bound in black leather.  Hank took it from Presto, and opened it.  He then started turning pages, one at a time.

The others watched in surprise.  Hank seemed to have forgotten all about them.  When he got to the end of the book, he simply handed it to Sheila, who was standing near him.  She too looked into it, then seemed to have to read through it as well.  She handed it on to Diana, who looked through it and handed it on, until all six of them had wordlessly looked through the book.

Presto was the last to touch it.  As he closed it, they all seemed to wake up out of a trance.  He glanced down at the book.  “Did any of you guys understand that?”

“What do you mean?” Diana asked.

“I mean I looked through it, but it was just a bunch of signs and symbols, like old magicians used to cast spells.”

“That’s strange, because I just remember each page being printed with a pattern of colors.”

“You’re both crazy,” Eric interrupted.  “It was a sketchbook.”

“Yeah,” Bobby put in, “but the pictures moved, like a videogame.”

“But all I remember seeing is numbers,” Sheila said, “just rows and rows of numbers.”

“Well, Hank, what did you see?” Presto asked.

Hank’s brow furrowed.  “It’s slipping away already but, I keep thinking I was looking at blueprints.  Like designs for building a house.”

“There’s one way to check it.  Open the book again, Presto.”

“I dunno, Diana,” Presto said as he opened it again; “this whole thing seems pretty strange, and—YIKE!!”  As soon as Presto opened the book a second time, it burst into flames.  Yet the flaming parchment vanished before it hit the ground.

“I guess that really was the gramerye,” Hank said.

“Sis, what’s a gramerye anyway?”

“I don’t know, Bobby.  The word sounds kinda familiar, though.”

“Yeah, and I know why!”  Presto’s eyes blazed with sudden inspiration.  He dropped to his knees and started writing in the dust.  “Am I a genius or what?  Look at this, you guys!”

They all looked at the ground where Presto had written two words, one on top of the other:

“They’re almost the same word!  So a gramerye is also a book of magic, like the Golden Grimoire.”

Hank continued the thought, “And if the Golden Grimoire had a spell that could get us home--”

Diana finished it; “there might have been a spell that could do that in the gramerye too!”

“Oh, terrific,” Eric said.  “So now one of us maybe knows a spell that’ll get us home.  Does anyone else remember anything else about what they saw?”

There were shaking heads and blank stares all around.  “Well,” Hank sighed, “Dekion told us to head for the foothills.”

“Yeah, but he also forgot to tell us the portal was booby-trapped.  What else do you think he didn’t tell us?”

“I’m sure he would have warned us if he knew, Eric,” Sheila said.  She found she didn’t like wondering whether Dekion had survived his battle with Venger.  She realized that she didn’t want to know the answer.

“Well, I remember one thing he said,” Presto spoke up.  “He said there were Orcs in the south.  Are the foothills to the north?”

“I think so,” Hank answered.

“Finally we catch a break,” Eric muttered.

They hesitated at the northern edge of the White Wood, to see if Venger was waiting to ambush them.  Bobby even offered to run out a few yards to try to draw any fire, but Hank and Sheila both stopped that plan.

“We still don’t know how to summon the wild magick,” Hank said.  “Until we do, we stay together.”

But everything was quiet as they made their way into rolling foothills, where there grew only a few trees.  There was no sign of a farm or a city or any kind of society.

In a way, finding out that the portal was a trap was easy for them to take.  It was the kind of setback they had endured constantly since arriving in the Realm.  But now, they didn’t know where they were going, what they could find, or what kind of help, if any, to expect from the wild magick.

Finally, as the suns began to set, the rolling hills turned to high cliffs that they had to walk between, sometimes single-file.

“C’mon, Presto,” Eric was saying as they walked.  “You’ve gotta remember something from the gramerye.”

“It’s weird.  You know like when you’re trying to remember something and you almost get it?  And it turns out to be a real simple word, like—”

“ORCS!”

“Naw, Eric; that’s not it.”

Eric grabbed the Magician and turned him back the way they had come.  “As in, Hundreds of Orcs are coming straight toward us!”

Considering their size and number, the Orcs had been successful in sneaking up behind the children.  The scraping of a single buckle against stone was all that was needed to cause Eric to look back.  The children and Uni took off at high speed and, because they were smaller and lighter, pulled away from the army of Orcs.

“STOP!”

Venger’s voice echoed against the cliff walls.  He was astride his flying horse, blocking the exit to a valley.  Beyond it, Hank could see only a few farmhouses.

“Give me your weapons!”

“We don’t have ‘em; honest!” Presto answered back, his voice breaking up and down the scale.

“He’s right, Venger,” Hank added.  “Take your complaints to DungeonMaster.  We don’t have them any more.”

“If you speak the truth, then your usefulness to me is at an end.  If you lie, I will know soon enough.”  Venger started throwing fireballs that exploded against the cliff walls, causing rocks to rain down on the children.

“I don’t think he’s too happy!” Eric shouted over the fall of the stones.  “Now what?!”

“Now THIS!”  Hank pulled Eric into a side-channel in the cliffs, then down into a well-like hole buried in the cliff face.  The others soon followed.

“Lucky this well was here,” Diana said, “but who’d put a well in the middle of a mountain?”

“Someone who wasn’t looking for water.  Look here!” Hank pointed in the gloom to a tunnel that ran underground in pitch blackness.  “This looks like some kind of escape tunnel.  Somebody wanted to come and go without being seen.”

“Yeah,” Bobby added, “they were probably hiding from Venger too.”

“Where do you suppose this leads?” Sheila asked.

“We don’t have a lot of choices.  Let’s just go in and find out.”

“No chance, Hank.  It’s too dark in there.  We’d probably…”

Eric never finished the thought, as a pinpoint of light appeared.  The glow grew brighter and brighter.  They all realized at once that the light was coming from Uni’s alicorn.

“Wow!  Good going, Uni!”

“I’ve never seen her do THAT before,” Presto said.

“Maybe her powers get stronger as she gets older,” Diana said.

“I know this stupid Realm has aged me,” Eric muttered.

They walked on for a few minutes until they could see stone steps at the end of the tunnel.  They followed the steps up until they came to a wooden door.  It wasn’t locked, so they opened it and went through.

They found themselves in the great hall of a castle.  It wasn’t as gloriously furnished as the palace in Farnelia; in fact, this palace wasn’t furnished at all.  Apart from a smell of burning wood, they might have come up in an abandoned building.

Sheila looked around.  “There’s something familiar about this place,” she started.  Another voice interrupted her:

“And I thought I’d never see any of you again.”

To be continued in “Return of a Friend”