After leaving Presto, the thief went in search of Hank. She found him sitting in his tent, staring at the ceiling.

"May I come in?" she asked hesitantly, standing in the doorway. "I thought we could talk."

"Sure." He motioned for her to have a seat on one of the pillows. "Whatever you want. You know that." He smiled at her then, and she felt her heart break slightly. This was not going to be easy.

"Hank, I need to tell you some things, and I don’t know if they’re going to easy for me to say, let alone for you to hear."

"What could possibly be so bad?" he asked, clearly confused.

"It’s about Venger and the Palace and Zenghai."

At that, Hank stiffened. He had been having trouble dealing with Presto being the one to accompany Sheila to Zenghai. Still, he had tried not to let it get the better of him. However, at the mention that there was something more he didn’t know about the Cloud Castle, he was on the alert.

"Okay, so tell me." He leaned back and crossed his arms over this chest.

"Well, I guess this is the best way is to say it – I’m in love with Venger."

"You’re what!?" Hank sputtered and gulped, trying to find the words to properly express his horror over Sheila’s revelation.

"After all that he’s done to us? You think you love him? No! I won’t accept that!"

"Hank, please listen," she begged. "There’s still good in him. Let me try to explain."

"No!" he roared, jumping up and knocking aside several pillows. "I won’t listen to you talk nonsense! It’s Presto, isn’t it? He’s been filling your head with all kinds of stupid nonsense!"

"You’re out of line," she shot back, her anger rising. "Presto has nothing to do with this! He helped me in Zenghai when no one else could. What happened with Venger concerns me, not him!

"Now I want you sit down and listen to what I have to say!" She was shouting now, in a tone to match Hank’s. She didn’t care if the whole world heard; she had to make the ranger understand what she was feeling.

Hank glowered at her, but sat back down. "So talk."

Starting at the beginning, Sheila told Hank her story, omitting very little. She told him of the rape and beatings Venger had given her. How he had used her body and stripped her of her self respect. However, she also spoke of his capacity to heal, as he had done with her hands, the marvelous dinner they had shared and the tour of the palaces. Hard as it was, she also did not omit the fact she had been turned on by Venger’s brand of sex or the power she had experienced when she tasted her own blood.

Hank recoiled at much of her story, but found himself crying with her as she told him of the pain of losing her baby, despite the fact it had been Venger’s. He held her when she cried as she told him about the images in the pool back in Zenghai, seeing them all dead back on earth. She did, however, make sure to omit any references to Presto and her nocturnal sexual escapades with the magician.

"So you think you love him? After all this time and everything he’s done, you’re convinced a part of you loves Venger?" Hank came back to the point still bothering him as Sheila finished her tale.

"I know I do, and I can’t change that. But Hank, I chose to be here with you. You’ve got to believe me when I say I love you." She reached out to him, but he pushed her hand away.

"I believe you love me, Sheila, I really do. But this Venger thing… You’re wrong. You can’t love something that evil." He shook his head. "And until you get that crazy idea out of your head, well… I just don’t know where we stand.

"I thought I did, you know. I love you. But I don’t know if I can be with someone who loves ‘ol Horn Head too. It’s wrong, Sheila. Don’t you understand that?"

"No!" Her voice was full of anger and pain "You don’t understand! I didn’t want to love him; it didn’t start out that way! It just happened! And I can’t change that!"

"But you were carrying his child!" Hank bellowed. "That says to me you had a choice, rape or not! You could have chosen to die that day during the transformation, you know, rather than give yourself to him."

"So you penalize me for wanting to live?" Tears streamed down her face. "I’m sorry I don’t live up to your standards, Hank! But I thought you’d prefer me pregnant but alive rather than dead.

"Besides," her voice now dripping with anger. "it’s not like I knew you guys were coming for me. I’d been there nearly three weeks remember!"

"That’s not fair!" Hank cried. "We tried. We just couldn't get to you!"

"Then how’s it any more fair for you to accuse me of wanting to bear Venger’s child after he raped me? For not wanting to die rather than let him impregnate me?"

At that, Hank fell silent. Her words had struck home. He had no idea what to say.

"It’s not fair," he said quietly. "I’m sorry, Sheila. I didn’t mean it."

"But you still said it," she whispered. "This isn’t going to be easy, Hank, but you have to try to work though this. Otherwise, we have no future, here or anywhere."

Slowly, she approached him, letting her hips sway gently, just as Venger had taught her.

"Let me prove it to you, Hank," her voice now a throaty whisper. "Let me prove that you’re the one I love."

She wrapped her body around his and licked lightly at his ear, all the while letting her hands trail down to his waist. She reached under his tunic and felt the bulge between his legs. Her nipples tightened involuntarily and she rubbed her chest against his, straining to let him feel the softness of her body under the rough fabric.

The thief wrapped her leg around Hank’s and grasped his hand, pulling it down under the edge of her tunic. She guided him inside her panties to the soft folds between her legs. She moaned deep in her throat as his finger touched her clitoris. Hank gasp when she tightened her legs around him and rubbed her slickness against his hand.

"Let me love you, Hank. I promise I can make you understand."

"No!" The ranger pushed her off of him, trying to erase the feeling of her body around his from his mind. "This isn’t right. Not like this."

Sheila backed away and looked at him with hurt in her eyes, her lower lip quivering.

"You, you don’t want me?"

Hank sighed. "I do and that’s the problem. Sheila, we have a lot to work out before I can even consider being with you like that."

"So what do we do now?" she asked, trying to hold back the tears.

"Let’s try talking some more, first, okay?"

She nodded and sat back down on the cushions, trying once more to make Hank understand the very complicated relationship between her and Venger.

It was several hours later when Sheila finally emerged from Hank's tent. The camp was quiet and pretty much deserted. Diana, who was supposed to be on grounds guard, had fallen asleep and was now snoring quietly beside the dying campfire. Sheila could see Eric's bare feet sticking out of his tent, probably in one of Presto's deep healing sleeps. Bobby and Uni weren't visible, but she was sure they were around somewhere, maybe in another tent.

It was Presto, however, the thief was looking for but she didn't see a sign of him. Taking a chance, she walked into the thicket around the camp, hoping he was on perimeter patrol. He was.

"Where's Bobby?" she whispered, coming up beside Presto who was surrounded by flickering torches.

"Back in his tent. He was exhausted, not surprisingly."

"Oh."

The magician looked over at Sheila. Her shoulders were slumped and she wore a defeated look.

"Why? What's wrong, Sheila?"

"I… I told Hank just about everything." She shrugged her shoulder. "About Venger, Zenghai, almost all of it. It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped."

Presto sighed. "And about me?"

She cast her eyes downward. "I didn't tell him; I couldn't. I don't think I ever will, either."

"Are you sure about that? Can you live with him never knowing?"

She nodded. "He's having a hard time still dealing with the whole Venger thing. The possibility that I could ever love both him and Venger… Well, it's just something he can't understand. To tell him about us… I think it would kill him.

"Besides, if I tell him, he's going to think I'm no better than Jenny Harrison back home!"

Immediately, Presto's thoughts flew to the bleached blonde ex-cheerleader who was rumored to have slept with at least half the football team and all of the basketball team.

As far as people knew, she had been pregnant at least once, causing a school scandal when she lost the baby. Rumor had it, she had had an abortion. She also had, by far, the worst reputation in school, including one notorious incident in which she cornered the French teacher after class to show off her sleazy underwear.

Presto shook his head. "You are definitely not anything like Jenny Harrison!"

"What makes me any different?" she shot back. "Let's face it Presto, in the last few weeks, I've slept with two guys, one is an evil archmage and the other is one of my best friends. I tried to sleep with a third, the guy who I want to be my boyfriend, but he pushed me away. I've discovered that not only do I like sex, but I like kinky, twisted sex! And to top it off, I got pregnant to my demon lover and lost the baby while trying to run away.

"Now I ask you, how does that make me any different from Jenny?"

He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. "There's a big difference! First of all, Venger raped you. Too many times to count, in fact. After that, what you did with him, well, that happened out of love. Maybe it's a perverse love, but it's still love.

"Those times in Zenghai, well, you were hurting. So was I. And we love each other! Not like you and Hank are in love, but a friendly love. That's what makes it different, Sheila. The love, the caring.

"Jenny didn't feel anything for those guys except lust. And somehow, I can't think of what we did or what you did with Venger as wrong. If you didn't care, maybe. But you did and you do. That makes all the difference."

"But the sex and Hank," she protested.

"So you like kinky sex! Big deal! So do I! And I'm not even gonna tell you half of what I know about Eric's sex fantasies. And believe me, I know plenty!"

He softened his tone before continuing, fearing he'd wake the others.

"As for Hank, he loves you, and doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s angry and hurt. I'm sure he thinks that if he slept with you tonight, after everything that's happened, well… He probably just thinks it's the wrong time. If it were me, I would."

"I hope you're right Presto," the thief flung herself into his outstretched arms. "I hope to God you're right!"

Sheila perched on a boulder near the remains of the rockslide, her lantern beside her. Before leaving Presto, she had asked for a lantern so she could explore what was left of the slide which nearly took her life. At first, he had been hesitant, but in the end he had given in and magicked up the requested item.

At first, it had been hard for the thief to even get near the site, but, anger from her earlier fight with Hank fueling her on, she had picked her way through the rocks until she found the hole the group had blasted out to find her. What she saw unnerved her.

Dried blood covered almost everything. Little bits of what she assumed were bone lay scattered about. They rest of the mess she didn't even want to guess at. It had been then, as she reached down to pick up a piece of bone that the reality of her accident hit.

She had been worse than dead. Her body, she surmised, had literally been smashed into hundred of pieces. How they had put her back together was still a mystery, but she suspected much of the blood which now ran in her veins was not the blood she had been born with. Nor was much of her skin and bone.

The thief had noticed as much earlier. She could still find most of the childhood scars, such as the one on her knee suffered while learning to ride a bike. The jagged scar on her forearm from roller skating practice and the burn mark on her thigh from her fire baton were gone, however. The missing scars had been her first clue that she had been injured for more seriously than even Presto had told her.

There was also one internal scar she wished had been taken, much like the ones on her skin. It was the pain of losing her child.

As she sat on the rock, staring up and the purple, blue and silver moons in the sky overhead, she cried loud and long, great wailing sobs of anguish no one could ease.

"My little boy," she whispered to the heavens, rocking back and forth, "I would have protected you, kept you safe from your father. But you were meant to die long before I even came to this weird world. I'm so sorry. So very, very sorry.

"I'd go back and change everything if I could, but I don't think it would have made any difference. Your life wasn't supposed to be, I guess. But, oh, I wish it would have been. Even if Venger was your father."

Gradually, the tears began to stop and Sheila thought about Venger. She had been telling Hank the truth - she did love Venger. In a way, she probably loved him even more than Hank. Parts of him were so similar to parts of her own personality. The books, the writings, the love of bodily pampering, the kinky sex, and even the inner sight and dark power. Whether she liked to admit it or not, those were all pleasures and powers that flowed through her as well.

That was how he had anticipated her wishes and need when she had been his prisoner. He had somehow known how similar they were and he had used that knowledge to correctly guess what she might like.

A part of her heart wished circumstances had been different. She wished Venger had never fallen to the Dark Ones; she wished she had known the man she had only glimpsed behind the evil.

Suddenly, Sheila felt her mind open and her spirit leave her body. There was a terrible spinning sensation and she felt as if she were going to be sick. As abruptly as it had begun, the spinning stopped and she found herself in a summer field covered in wildflowers.

Instinctively, she knew this was the Realm, but the Realm as she had never known it. This was some time in the distant past when beauty was more prevalent than ugliness she had come to know.

She watched as two figures came into view: one short and squat, the other tall and muscular. The thief gasped as they drew closer; she could see it was Dungeon Master and Venger. Only they were both so very young.

Dungeon Master's hair was a shimmering blond and he stood a bit taller than he did now. He was muscular and trim, as was Venger. In Venger, Sheila saw the warm chocolate eyes she had glimpsed on occasion framed by thick flowing raven hair. His skin was a deep tan and she saw muscles rippling beneath his robes. He resembled a Greek god she had seen in a textbook back on Earth. Straining, she could overhear their conversation.

"But father, please, I was only gone for a few moments. I meant no harm. You must believe me!"

"You were with Creana again, weren't you?" Dungeon Master snapped. "How many times have I told you, we must be vigilant! Her father has ties to those in Darkhaven! If one of them were to find out you might be the child of the dark prophecy, there's no telling what might happen!"

"But Creana's my only friend! She means no harm!" The younger man was pleading now. "I'm trying so hard, father, I swear! But I grow tired and weak! Please, can I not have just one day of rest?"

"No!" his father spat. "We must make sure the prophecy of old never comes to pass! We must guard that you are not the Child of the Dungeon Master the Ancients spoke of! For if anyone finds out, even suspects you might be the Dark Child, all of my power cannot help you!"

"But, father, you are the Dungeon Master!" the young Venger tried again. "Outside of Zenghai, your word is law nearly everywhere in the Realm! Would you not do what you could to save me?"

Dungeon Master whirled on his son. "I told you never to speak of that place! Ever! Do you not remember how they took your mother from you, my wife? Unable to save her life and leaving me alone to care for you, a newborn? Do you not remember that pain?"

Venger hung his head. "I remember, father. And I am sorry. You have sacrificed much for me, and I am not grateful enough for it. I should know better. I will be more vigilant in the future, I promise."

This seemed to placate Dungeon Master, at least a bit. "Very well. So long as you realize how important all of this is, know that even I may not be able to save you in the end. We do not want your mother's death to have been in vain. Now we will see about working on your attention to details. Come."

And he called Venger by a name Sheila had never heard before.

Suddenly the scene changed and she saw the Venger she had always known, blue skin and all. He stood before a three headed Judge of the Underworld. Behind him were three doors. One led to a fiery pit, another to a gray room, and the last to the paradise world she had visited in Zenghai.

"How do you, Lord Venger of the Realm, plead to your crimes?" the judge asked.

Venger looked down. "Guilty."

One word and one Sheila had not expected.

The judge flipped the pages of a large book and one of the heads leaned down to read something.

"Few redeeming acts in your lifetime. No love. No hope. Nothing." The judge sighed. "There is no alternative. Your punishment was decided long before you arrived at my doors."

Venger only nodded. The creature pointed a finger and the door to the fire pit opened. The dark lord did not protest but simply walked towards the door, his fate sealed.

With that, Sheila felt herself being sucked back into her body. She gasped as her spirit snapped back into it human form. Struggling to breath, it took her a few moments to realize she was still on the boulder near the rockslide, safe and sound back in the Ream.

Her mind boggled over what she had just seen.

Somehow, Sheila had seen the true past of Venger, and his father, Dungeon Master. Deep inside her soul, the thief knew she had witnessed the beginning of Venger's fall to the Dark Ones. In trying to guard against the ancient prophecy, Dungeon Master had only alienated his son, driven him to the Dark Ones rather than keeping him away. Whether or not Venger had been born the Dark Child promised in the old texts, his father had inadvertently forced him into it.

She thought of Venger's mother and realized the unknown woman was the reason she had not seen much of Dungeon Master at Zenghai. He hated the place! After her death, Dungeon Master had obviously made Venger responsible for causing his mother's death.

The thief also guessed the judge she had seen existed at some point in the future. She had seen Venger’s final judgement and his condemnation to this world’s version of Hell. Still, she remembered Leader's words to Presto.

The future is too complex and undecided to be seen in this pool. It is dependent on choices not yet made.

She wondered if that part of the future could still change, if Venger be saved from that fate. Deep in heart, she hoped so. The thought of Venger condemned to a final damnation chilled her. She had seen the good in him, knew it was still there. To punish that part of him somehow didn’t seem right to her.

Sheila looked up at the sky once more and whispered, though only the Night Birds could hear her.

"Aleyn, I'm sorry I never knew you before, when you were young. Or maybe I did, in another life somewhere, far away from here. And I wish your father hadn’t turned you into Venger.

"But I saw enough of you in Venger to know this – I love you. I think a part of me always has, even before I came here."

Deep in the Realm's Underworld, Orisis, the three headed Judge of the Dead, opened his ancient book as Sheila's words reached his ears. Flipping a few pages, he took out a quill and began to write on a page with Venger's name etched at the top. The left side of the page was filled with black marks, evil and foreboding in appearance. The right side was nearly empty, reflecting the little good Venger had done in his life.

Slowly, the creature made a long mark on the right side, adding one tally to Venger's good deeds.

"I have heard you, Thief of the Promised Ones. Your love is so noted. There may be hope for Lord Venger yet. For love is the ultimate saving grace."

With that, the creature closed the book and remained on alert for the next soul coming for judgement.