Sheila awoke the next morning in her own bed, back in her suite. She didn’t remember returning, but assumed that Venger had brought her here sometime in the early morning hours after they had both exhausted themselves. It had been a night unlike Sheila had ever experienced or even expected.

As she began to go about her morning routine, the memory of what she had done, the choices she had made came rushing back to her. A part of her knew it was wrong, doing those things with Venger of all people. He hunted her and her friends, had tried to kill them several times over. Yet, she loved him; she knew she did. She knew, too, that he loved her in a very real way. Whatever she had done, she had brought out the good in him. Whether it would, in time, be able to override the evil was a completely different matter.

She still felt guilty, however. She felt as if she had betrayed everyone she had ever cared about, especially her friends and most importantly Hank. They would probably never understand what she had done or why. In truth, she didn’t really understand why herself. However, the thought of causing Hank any pain was what hurt her the most. She didn’t set out to hurt him. It had just happened.

The only thing she did know for sure was how she had felt the last several days. She hurt, deep inside. She hurt with the knowledge that her friends had still not come for her, had not tried to rescue her from Venger’s hands. It hurt more to know that Hank, especially, had not attempted to free her from this prison. She loved him and thought that he loved her in return.

The ranger had never admitted it, not back on Earth or in the Realm, but she felt the attraction between them, the bond they shared. Or at least she thought she had. Now, she had shared a similar, more powerful bond with Venger. The thief was confused. She had no idea which was right and which was wrong. Maybe they were neither. She wasn’t sure.

What she was sure of was that she was lonely. When Venger had invited her to dinner the night before, she had made sure to be on her best behavior. She finally had company, someone to talk to and she hadn’t wanted to give it up quickly, even if it was Venger.

More than anything, though, Venger made her feel loved. Not all the time, but on occasion, like the previous night. She had never completely felt that love from Hank, much as she had wished for it. So when Venger offered it, she accepted, for she felt that love in return. It was that love for the dark lord that was now tearing her apart inside.

A cough from behind her brought her back to reality. She turned to find Venger staring at her. He bore the same old evil face, yet it was a bit softer somehow.

"Good morning, Queen Sheila," Venger greeted her with a small bow. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Venger, thank you," she replied, still unsure how to respond.

"I have come with a present for you, Sheila," he told her, "one that I think you will like."

He removed his hands from behind his back and held out a shiny brass key.

"This is the key to this room" Venger continued. "Last night, I saw how you enjoyed my palace, enjoyed seeing the rooms and being free to explore and appreciate the surroundings. Perhaps you would like to explore the rest of my palace?"

Sheila looked at the key and considered Venger for a moment. He had never offered her anything like this before. She wasn’t sure at first how to react. However, she reached out and took the key from Venger’s hand. An electric shock passed through her as skin met skin.

"Thank you," she replied, looking at the key. "But how do I get past the dragon?"

Venger smiled, pleased at her keen observation.

"Simply allow him to sniff you. He is highly trained and knows to allow you passage."

When she looked at him in disbelief, his mouth widened into a toothy smile.

"Sweet Sheila," he said gently, "you know that I have no reason to harm you yet In fact, my actions of the past few weeks have proven that I prefer you very much alive. Do they not?"

"Yes, Venger," she admitted, "they do."

"I have some pressing matters which require my attention, so I’m afraid I must skip our usual morning enjoyment," he leered slightly. "However, please feel free to wander around for the rest of the day. If I have need of you, I shall find you."

With that, he turned and teleported out of the room, leaving Sheila still staring at the key.

The next several days passed quite rapidly for Sheila. She began to make more and more use of the key Venger had given her. The first time had been the most terrifying. However, just as Venger had promised, when she first ventured down the steps, the resting dragon simply sniffed her gently and then went back to its nap, seemingly unconcerned that she had just left her rooms.

The palace had returned to its normal gloomy state, but it was still beautiful. Sheila ventured into just about every room she found, stopping only at locked doors that her key could not open. She discovered that the palace was seven floors high, with many spires, each with rooms at the top. Her suite of rooms was located in just one such spire out many.

Very often, Venger would visit her when she was exploring. He would answer her questions about the items in the room and tell her stories about how he had acquired this tapestry or that painting. On those occasions, he seemed almost human and much less like the Venger she had grown to hate when she first came to the Realm

During his times with her, he would still use her body as he saw fit, taking her by force if she resisted. He was, however, much less harsh on her than he had been in the beginning. The beatings were less frequent, unless she truly angered him, and the sex less brutal.

Instead of the whips, which did hurt her, he took her against a dresser or on a table, spreading her legs until they would go no further. The worst had been the day he had laid her down on an outdoor balcony and pleasured himself for nearly an hour. She had been severely sunburned after that, but he had healed her burned skin, just as he always did.

At nights, Venger played with Sheila’s body until they were both tired, each of them reveling in the pleasures that overtook them. With each night that passed and each new sexual trick learned, the feeling of betrayal in the thief lessened. She had begun to accept that no one, not even Hank, was coming for her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Eric. The cavalier's new sword hung limply in his hand, his shield in the other. This was the Sword of Minou, a new Weapon of Power and one that had seen many battles. Dungeon Master had appeared one night before the first rescue attempt and given the cavalier the weapon, telling him only that the past deeds of the sword might serve him well in the near future

Tonight they had been practicing's Eric's defensive techniques when Hank had simply walked way.

"We’ll get her out, Hank. I promise," the dark haired man told him. "We’re nearly ready to try it again. This time it’ll work."

Hank shook his head. "I wish I could believe that. But I don’t.

"We’ve tried so many different spells and potions. None of them worked. Presto’s just about out of ideas, too."

"We can't give up," the cavalier pressed. "I know you're hurting but we have to try again."

When Hank didn't answer him, Eric tried again.

"Look, buddy, I know what it's like to hurt because the one you love is hurting too. I mean, well… I just understand. That's all."

Eric looked back towards the camp where Diana sat with Presto and Bobby, all of them trying to figure out the best way to teleport the rescuers out of the palace, if they could even get in. Hank followed his gaze and realized that the cavalier was referring to Diana.

"You really love her, don't you?" the ranger asked. "Even though you have no idea if she feels the same about you."

Eric shrugged. "It doesn’t matter. I love her; it's that simple. I'd do anything for her, just so long as I knew she was safe. Even if she never loved me back, it’d still be enough to know she was alright.

"Besides, I don't recall you professing your undying love to Sheila lately."

"She knows. I don't have to tell her," Hank snapped.

"Does she? Really?" Eric asked gently. "Or do you only think she does. 'Cause I don't see you two acting like it. You guys act more like my parents some times and they haven't been in love for a long time!

"Don't make the same mistake my dad did. He never told my mom that he loved her and when he did, it was too late. She was too afraid of him to care anymore."

"But I have to pretend like she's no different than the rest of you," Hank argued. "You know that! What would happen if I started playing favorites? Risking your lives instead of hers?"

"I never said you had to play favorites, Hank," Eric reproached him. "Just tell her you love her. If I could tell Diana, I would, but I can't 'cause she'd laugh in my face.

"But Sheila loves you and you know it. Don't regret not saying the one thing she wants to hear."

Eric paused to let his words sink in, but Hank acted as if he hadn't heard a word the cavalier had said.

"Well, if you're not gonna help, then I'm gonna get Diana to work with me. Excuse me, but I have a friend to rescue."

Eric spun on his heel and stalked off towards the campfire to get Diana.

Hank continued to stare off into the mountains, in the direction of Venger's palace. It wasn't that he hadn't paid attention to Eric; he had. The ranger simply didn't know if he could do what his friend had suggested, say those words he felt in his heart and knew Sheila wanted to hear.

Sighing, he picked up his bow and walked towards the fire. Eric was right. They had a friend to rescue.