Sheila awoke with a start, her breath coming in great gasps. She had just had a terrible nightmare. There had been a rockslide and Venger was there and….

Instinctively, she reached for her stomach, feeling for the slight bulge of the baby growing inside her.

"Shhhh," a familiar voice came from the soft blue darkness. "It’s okay now, Sheila. Just rest."

Her eyes snapped open and she saw Presto’s tear stained face looking back at her. She glanced around, realizing that she was in a room, lying on a soft bed. Something was not right. Again she felt her stomach. The now familiar expansion was no longer there.

"Presto?" she asked hesitantly. "Where are we? Where’s everyone else? What happened to me? To my baby?"

Presto reached out and took her hands in his. "We’re in the Cloud Castle of Zenghai. Dungeon Master and I brought you here after the rockslide.

"No," Sheila whispered and yanked her hands out of his. She threw back the covers and yanked up her nightdress, not caring that Presto was watching her. Her stomach was just as flat as it had always been, not a trace of the expanding waistline she had started to grow accustomed to. She searched her body with the little bit of Venger’s magic left in her and realized she could no longer find the small ember that she had identified with her unborn son.

He’s gone! her mind screamed. How? Venger, the rocks, it couldn’t have been real!

Sheila tried to say something, to ask Presto so many of the questions now flooding her mind, but she couldn't. Her mouth could only open and close, no sound escaping it. Tears welled up in her eyes and a profound sense of loss began swallowing her, as if engulfed in a blanket.

The magician looked at the pain cross his friend’s face, and he moved to sit beside her on the bed.

"It’ll be alright," he whispered. "I promise. We won’t let him or anyone hurt you again."

Sheila flung her arms around Presto’s neck and began sobbing uncontrollably. She buried her face his shoulder and clung to her friend fiercely, as if she was afraid she might drown. Presto stroked her hair, all the while rocking her back and forth slowly and whispering soothing words in her ear.

When she had finally quieted down, she pulled back and looked at Presto through tear-hazed eyes.

"What happened?"

Presto looked away, not meeting her gaze.

"You have to tell me, Presto!" she persisted. "There’s no one else here and I think you’re the only one who might tell me the truth anyway. You understand. The others don’t. So please, Presto, tell me. What happened to me? To the, the..? "

She stopped for a moment, unable to continue.

"I don’t remember it very well," she finally went on. "I remember breakfast and being sick again. I remember your tea. And I kinda remember the rockslide and seeing Venger. Seeing him blast the rocks. The pain. I remember that too."

The magician sighed and looked at her though his thick lashes. "Venger came after you, like we knew he would. Somehow he found out about the baby. He wanted his son and his lover.

"Only you ran, hid under your cloak, and he got, well, pissed off. He tried to capture you, some kind of energy loop, I think. He missed and blasted the rocks instead. You were so high out of the way, trying to hide. When the rocks started to slide, we couldn't get to you in time. They swept you under."

"Did I die?" she asked softly, wondering how much repair it had taken to get her body working again.

"Not completely," Presto said. "Venger just kinda bolted after that, and we dug through the rocks. Hank blasted a lot with his bow, and Eric smashed some with his shield. You were barely alive and pretty beat up."

Presto decided not to mention how badly mangled her body had been. At first, he had not been able to recognize his friend under the mass of blood, tissue and bone. He cleared his throat and continued, hoping Sheila had not noticed his lengthy pause.

"Then Dungeon Master appeared and, dug you out. Then, well, we came here. We’ve been here about three days now. It’s taken awhile for your body to heal. It, uh, wasn’t too easy to put you back together."

"And the baby?"

He sighed again. "Dead in the rockslide. There was no chance. All the healers in Zenghai couldn't have made a difference. He was gone before we reached you."

Tears began to flow down Sheila’s face again. "And Hank didn’t even care enough to come here with me?"

"It’s not that," Presto started to speak but Sheila cut him off.

"Of course not! Why would he? I betrayed him; I betrayed all of you! He probably never even really forgave me for getting pregnant. By Venger no less."

She sniffed a few more times.

"So why are you here, Presto? Are you the only one who forgave me?"

"It has nothing to do with forgiveness, Sheila." The magician replied, pulling her close once more. "We all forgave you the day you came back. You know that.

"But Dungeon Master told us only people who really needed help could come here. Everyone else would be kicked out. Hank wanted to come, more than any of us. But, well, you know how Dungeon Master is."

"I know," she bit her lip to keep from crying again. "So what now?"

"We stay here for a few more days, get you back on your feet," he got up off the bed and picked up two black cloaks from a nearby chair. "We also make sure Venger can’t hurt you again. Mostly though, I make sure that you’re safe.

She looked at him, eyes filled with doubt. "And if I want to leave now?"

"You can’t! Look, Sheila, you need to deal with the fact that you love Venger. Or at least a part of you does. There’s no getting around it. It’s up to you whether or not you tell Hank the truth. But I know you love two men at once; it’s not an easy thing. And one of those men, you can’t have. I know what that’s like, remember? It hurts and it’s gonna keep on hurting until you learn to how to live with it.

"You also need to realize that you just lost your baby. I know how much you loved him, Venger’s child or not. You have to let yourself hurt. Otherwise, you won’t ever feel better.

"Now, please, Sheila, let me help you. ‘Cause if you don’t, Hank’s gonna find out for sure or else Venger will kidnap you again once we get back. And I don’t think you want either of those things to happen."

Presto pulled her from the bed and led her to a window. Sheila looked down over the grounds of Zenghai. A thick mist covered everything and a light drizzle gave the gardens below a glossy sheen. The scene reminded Sheila of the English moors she had visited on vacation with her parents a few years before. It looked quiet and peaceful, unlike the torment that was now raging through her.

Presto handed her one of the cloaks. She followed his example of flinging it over his shoulders and followed him into the hallway.

There was a chill in the air as he led her down a winding staircase that reminded her very much of Venger’s palace. They passed floor after floor of endless hallways, doors doting either side of the walls. When they reached the ground floor, the couple were met by a group scarlet robbed figures.

Each of the willowy figures towered over Presto and Sheila. She figured that they must have been at least seven or eight feet tall, even though their robes pooled at their feet. She could not see their hands, for they were hidden in the folds of their sleeves.

"Magician," the leader acknowledge Presto with a deep bow, using his name as a title of respect. The words came out as a deep hiss more than a human voice.

"You have brought the thief to the grounds. I take it she is ready to begin her final steps in the healing process?"

Presto bowed in return. "Yes, Leader, she is ready. Shall I teach her?"

The robed figure stood still for a moment, then nodded. "It is you who will travel with her, so you may do as we planned. Ask us for help if needed.

"Dungeon Master is in his quarters, though I do not think he can help you much."

The young man nodded once more and bowed again. "We shall take our leave of you. I will call if you are needed."

With that the nine scarlet clad figures swept off down the corridor, leaving Sheila gaping.

"Who were they?" And what did they mean about you teaching me?"

"Those were the Healers of Zenghai. They’re the ones who put you back together, the way you were before the Day of Sorrow. The head healer is just called Leader. I don’t know if any of the others even have names."

"And the teaching part?"

"There are hundreds, probably thousands, of, well, beings here that need help. Some of them were worse off than you were. The Healers need to concentrate on putting people back together. They don’t have time to do the last few stages of healing. That’s where people like me come in."

Sheila looked at him warily, but Presto took her arm and led her out into the gardens. Dim sunlight filtered through cloudy skies that threatened rain. He led her to a tall hedge-like maze and they walked the twisting pathways until they came to a small bench, growing increasingly lost in the process.

"I need to teach you those self-defense spells you refused to learn when I got back from Alarc's."

He glared at her as she began to protest.

"Sheila, Venger’s not gonna give up on getting you back, and when he returns if you want to go with him willingly, fine. Go. But if you don't, he's going to take you by force. You know that. So you need to be able to protect yourself.

"I'm also going to teach you how to kinda repel his magic. It doesn't work all the time, but it's better than nothing.

"The power, the magic to do this is in you, it always has been. It's in all of us; Alarc taught me how to see it. You're going to need to choose and soon. I want you to be ready when that happens and know that your abilities aren't dependent on Venger, much as he'd like you to believe."

She began to protest again and Presto raised his hand to quiet her. She flinched back involuntarily, a reaction left over from her captivity. Instead, her friend reached out to stroke her hair.

"This is what I mean, Sheila," he said softly. "Venger taken so much from you. He's made you feel like you’re nothing and we have to change that. You are somebody, more than just his sex toy or slave or whatever. I need to get you to see it

"You say you love Venger and I truly believe you. You tell me you see something in him that none of us can and, again, I believe you. After all, you were the only one who believed me when I told you that I loved the fairie dragon Amber as much as I loved the human Amber.

"You saw what others couldn't. It's one of your magical gifts and a wonderful one. It makes you compassionate and loving. It helped you see the man Venger was. But falling in love with that man doesn’t make you like him."

He paused and she looked at him again, seeing the concern in his golden eyes.

"But what if I am evil now? What if I did those things because that's the real me?"

"But you're not evil!" he countered. "Not like Venger is, anyway. Sheila, there's evil and hate and anger in all of us. Even me. But it doesn't rule us, like it does him. Sometimes it's stronger in us than others, but it doesn't make you bad. It just makes you human. Alarc taught me that, too."

She looked at her hands, which were folded neatly on her lap. They were the hands which had loved Venger, had caressed his body. Yet they were also the same hands she used to hold Hank when she returned. They were the hands Venger had healed when she destroyed them in an attempt to break free.

If he hadn't taken me prisoner, I wouldn't have needed to run! she thought angrily.

"Okay," she consented. "Teach me."

For the next several hours, they worked hard, Presto coaxing her to tap into the well of magical power within her and not rely on whatever energies Venger had left behind. She mastered the basic protection spells quickly and was able to fend off Presto's attacks in no time.

The more complicated spells that fended off dark magic however, took a bit longer to learn. Several times, Sheila had wanted to give up, frustrated that she couldn’t perform even the simplest of spells to ward off Venger. The more she failed, the angrier she became until the emotions boiled over inside her. When Presto attacked again, she not only diffused his spell but flung him backwards into the hedge.

After that, he declared their session a success and called for one of the Healers to return Sheila to her room. She would have preferred her friend to walk with her, but the dark magic had gotten Presto worked up and he needed to relax before he returned to her room. He was afraid of what might happen if he didn't.

The magician wandered the now familiar paths, lost in thought. Over the last few days, he had explored the grounds when not sitting by Sheila's bedside. He mulled over Sheila's progress that day. While her body had been healed, he didn't really believe her mind and soul had been helped much at all. There was still a long way to go.

Presto also reminded himself that he could not think of how good she smelled or how soft her skin was. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, Amber being the last, and he was afraid of feeling things for his friend he knew he shouldn't.

After all, she was his friend above all and more than anything, the love of Hank's life. Presto did think, however, perhaps it was time for Hank to admit his love for Sheila before the love Venger showed her won out. The thought of his friend sharing a life with the dark lord was more than the magician could bear.

Lost in thought, Presto had not noticed when he wandered into an unfamiliar section of the grounds. The mist and fog had vanished, as had the cool breezes. Looking around, Presto noticed the air had grown considerably warmer, almost humid, which was a foreign concept in the Realm.

Tropical breezes had picked up and Presto imagined himself to be on some south Pacific island, far away from the harsh life of this world. The trees were thick and lush and brightly colored flowers carpeted the soft grass. Lights twinkled in the bushes, like millions of tiny lanterns winking and sparkling at him. Six purple moons hung in the sky overhead, their light playing off the wings of butterflies that flitted about the garden.

"It's almost like paradise," he breathed.

"Indeed it is paradise," a voice behind him hissed.

"Where am I, Leader?" Presto turned to address the scarlet robed figure that appeared from behind a bush.

"In a world far removed from the Realm. One where there is only beauty and peace."

"How?" Presto knew that in Zenghai almost anything was possible, yet he didn't understand how he had left the Realm.

"Zenghai exists in many worlds at once," the robes hissed. "We share dimensions and space across the universe. That is the source of our healing. You simply wandered down a pathway that brought you here, to a world with a name foreign to your tongue."

"Could I get back to Earth from here?" he asked hopefully.

"No," the figure shook its head. "Zenghai does not exist anywhere in your world."

"Oh," was all Presto could manage.

Leader motioned for Presto to follow him down a flag stone path. They walked together in silence, Presto basking in the beauty of his surroundings. Finally, Leader stopped at a small pond that glistened in the moonlight.

"This is the Reflecting Pond," the figure gestured with a talon like finger. "It will show the past and the present, as well as the past that could have been and many versions of a future which might be. For each major decision you have ever made, you will see what might have been, both past and future.

"However, you will never know which future is the correct one. The future is far too complex to be decided now. Yet you will see many different paths you may still take in your lifetime.

"You, Magician, must begin to heal as well. The despair and depression you carry with you must be eased if you are to fulfill your role in this life. Look into the Pool and your journey shall begin."

The being disappeared into a puff of scarlet smoke and was gone, leaving Presto beside the pond. The magician knew that Leader had spoken the truth; he did have to being his own healing process. It was the reason he had been allowed to enter Zenghai in the first place.

He knelt down beside the pool and was disappointed that he only saw the bottom of the pond through the clear water. Presto wasn't sure what he had expected to see, but he had expected to see something in there besides shiny pink pebbles.

The magician dipped a finger into the water and traced a lazy circle across the surface. Suddenly, the water shimmered and was replaced by a numerous images of himself, only much older than he was now.

He saw himself bitter and angry as a farmer in the J'Daar Valley with Varla, frustrated because his magic was dying inside him, unused and hidden from the world. He saw visions of himself living in some far off world with a human Amber that could change back into a faire dragon at will. He saw himself as a powerful magician living in a castle on an unknown mountain and falling down the cliff face he had clung to back in the Dungeon At The Heart Of Dawn. There were literally hundreds of future scenes in the pond, but none of him with a life on Earth.

The only image he could associate with Earth was a hand holding a bloody dagger in the hall of what he somehow knew to be inside the library at Oxford in England. It frightened him more than any of the other images, even the one in which Venger had killed him in Merlin's castle, stealing his magic from his body, a body which had been crumpled into a pile of ash.

Cautiously, he stuck his finger back in, swirling it around once more, and the images changed. He saw Sheila in her room resting, his friends huddled around a fire waiting for their friends to return. He also saw Venger, angrily rebuilding his Palace of Torture and muttering words of revenge. Lastly, he saw a bit of life on earth, a coastal city covered in a thick smog and heavy traffic. It didn't look much like the Earth Presto had left, but he knew for certain that it was.

Once more he swirled the waters and once more the images changed. This time, Presto gasped as he saw his lifeless body lying across his bed back home, nearly the age he was now or perhaps younger. He saw himself growing into a teenager under the guidance of his beloved Grandmother Olivia. Images floated forward of the first picnic he had gone on with his friends, their trips to the amusement park, even the day Jimmy Whitaker stole his book of magic tricks. However, he also noticed in most scenes, he had no friends; he was always alone. Even Eric, his own cousin, was gone from the myriad of images.

Finally, Presto understood. Outside of the images from the present and his actual past, he was seeing things that had not happened. They were the results of the paths he had not taken in his life, the opposite of decisions he had made. The future images were a mix of things which never would be and some that perhaps might be.

Many of the images scared him, particularly the ones from Earth he had never really lived through. Those were ideas he didn’t even want to imagine. Yet he knew any of them could have been his fate, had he chosen differently.

The visions of life with Varla frightened him as well. He loved the illusionist; he knew he did. Yet, in one vision of the future, he had grown to hate her. The magician hadn’t considered himself capable of hate so strong. However, he knew he was. He had seen it in the pond and felt it in himself, though he tried to deny it.

Presto pushed himself back from the edge and rested on his knees. His head swam with the visions, his photographic memory ensuring he would never forget even a single one. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next, but he did know he had somehow started on the path to healing his soul. It was a somewhat comforting thought, even after all he had seen in the pool. Still, a tiny wave of disquiet swept through his mind, his turbulent thoughts not completely stilled.

He tried to brush those thoughts away and ran off to find Sheila.

Sheila paced her room, guilt and fear brewing inside her.

What if he decided to leave me? her mind whirled. What’ll I do if he’s gone?

The tension was building a tight knot in her stomach. She was afraid Presto had decided to leave her here after all, despite everything he had said earlier. The thief was worried her friend had seen evil in her when she was at last able to repel the dark magic spells he had thrown at her.

Despite the magician’s reassurances, Sheila still believed she was truly an evil person at heat, much like Venger. Why else would she have done all those things, given in to Venger as easily as she had? It was the dark lord who had somehow awakened her innate powers, and she had, in the end, reveled in the energy as it pulsed through her. In her mind, those things made her just as bad as her was, if not more so.

The rational part of her mind, reminded her that she Presto was probably right. Everything he had said was logical. She loved Venger simply because she could see that last shred of goodness left in him. It was that part of him she loved, she argued with herself, not the dark part of him that hurt innocent people.

The rational side of her was losing, however, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. She could not shake the feeling of powerlessness that seemed to consume her. Sheila felt as if she were fighting against a wave and it was useless to try and resist.

She wanted to recapture that goodness, that sense of peace which used to come so easily to her. More than anything, she wanted to again be the woman she knew Hank loved, instead of the ugly creature she felt she had become. Only she had no idea how to start.

Suddenly, the door snapped open and she whirled to see Presto standing in the doorway. His hair was damp from the night mists, and the humidity had made it curl around his neck. He was breathing heavily and she could see the muscles in his neck tighten as he gasped for air. Seeing him standing in the doorway, Sheila suddenly felt the rush of dark power she had experienced back at Venger's Palace when cornered by Shadow Demon.

This was her dear friend, true, but he was also an innocent, some one pure of heart. Looking at him, Sheila thought she could see her own path to redemption shining within him. She could see the innate goodness in his soul and wanted so very much to find that in herself again.

Sheila looked deep into his eyes and remembered the night she had comforted Presto after Varla had chosen to remain in her village rather than join them as they crossed the Realm. She thought back to Presto's journal, the one he kept while he had been with Alarc. The thief had felt a strong attraction to her magician friend on those occasions, and she could feel that old, yet strange, feeling well up inside her once more.

She have never acted on those feelings before; she had thought it wrong for any number of reasons. Now, however, the situation was different. If she truly was as evil as she thought, why not take something she had deprived herself of for so long?

Slowly, she advanced towards Presto, licking her lips slightly. Her hips swayed seductively and she moved with a fluid grace more like Diana’s than her own. The magician backed up slightly, frowning.

"Sheila," he ventured, "what's wrong? I was hoping I could show you something that might help you."

He wanted to show her the Reflecting Pool, let her see her own possible pathways and maybe help her remember that she wasn’t the creature Venger had pressed her to become.

"There's nothing wrong, Presto," she breathed, her voice taking on a husky tone. "I was just thinking we could so something else instead. Something, oh I don't know, a bit more pleasurable."

The magician regarded her for a moment, a light flickering in his eyes. He seemed to somehow know exactly what she had in mind. He also did not seem to be completely against the idea.

"Do you think you have to do this, Sheila? Because you don't, you know. You're not the bad person you seem to think you are."

"Don't you want me, Presto?" she whispered. "All those night without Varla and with Amber gone. Didn't you want, even once, to touch my skin? Taste my lips? Not ever?"

"You really want to do this, Sheila? Is this really going to help you? More importantly, do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into? There are things about this, about me, you just don’t know."

"What?" she nearly cried. "Am I not good enough for you anymore? Now that I've been used by Venger?"

Presto crossed the few feet between them and seized her shoulders roughly.

"You have no idea, Sheila," he told her, his voice thick. "No idea at all."

The dark magic he had tapped into earlier in the day had stirred up so many emotions he worked so hard to keep buried, including his high school crush on the thief. Now, he could feel the power and desire radiating from her, and it aroused him. He could sense her desires, much like Venger had. She wanted what Hank would not give and what Venger had forced upon her. But she wanted it given freely. Presto was a bit afraid of what might happen to her if he refused, even with all of the Healers of Zenghai at his disposal.

"Then just love me," she ran her hand through his thick hair. "Take me. Please. Love me. Make me feel good again. Help me forget about Venger."

He lowered his lips to hers and she leaned into his kiss, opening her mouth to let her tongue meet his. She ran her hands down his back and squeezed his butt through his robes. He responded by pushing his groin into hers and grinding against her.

His hands roamed her body, feeling the contours of her hips and inner thighs. Her skin was just as soft as he hoped it would be. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so he could trace a line of kisses along her collarbone.

Sheila began tugging impatiently at his robes, finally succeeding in getting the over his head as his mouth began to grow more insistent and demanding. Presto, in turn, pulled her cape from her shoulders and yanked her tunic over her head.

The magician pushed her back towards the bed and eased her down into its softness, covering her with the weight his body. He slid her panties down her legs and unlaced her corset so that she was naked beneath him. All the while, he continued to kiss and caress her body, seeking out all of the sensitive places her had discovered in his times with Amber.

The thief tugged off Presto's boxer shorts and to her delight, she discovered that he was already extremely aroused. Her hand slid up and down the length of him, tightening at just the right points, exactly as Venger had taught her. She heard him moan in pleasure and she wiggled out from beneath him.

Giving her a sideways glance, he obliged when she pushed him to roll over onto his back. She lowered her mouth to his penis and began sucking him as hard as she could, pausing every so often to lick his shaft as his juices began to flow.

Finally, he pulled her up, a look of confusion on her face.

"Not yet, Sheila," he whispered. "We can do so many other things first. Tell me, what do you want?"

"I want you to hurt me, like he did. Tie me up and let me feel the pain."

Presto shook his head. "No, I won't hurt you. Not like he did. You can have the fun without the pain. You need to understand that."

Sitting up, he reached for his hat on the bedside table and as soon as he picked it up, an array of sex toys fell out. He picked out a blindfold and tied it around Sheila's eyes. She felt a momentary panic at not being able to see but then she relaxed a bit. No matter what, this was still Presto. Instinctively, she knew that he would not hurt her, unlike her last lover.

She felt him ease her body back down to the bed and secure her hands above her head. He didn't tie down her legs however. Sheila felt him kneel in front of her and lower his lips to her mound. His fingers found her clitoris and began slowly stroking her while his tongue licked and nipped at the soft flesh around it. Meanwhile, his other hand pinched her nipple and caressed her breasts.

She arched up to meet him and he moved with her, going harder and faster the more she whimpered. Then, her body convulsed once in orgasm and lay still, her breath coming huge gasps. He released her legs and curled up beside her on the bed

"You see, Sheila?" he whispered in her ear as he continued to play with her breasts, "you can do this and not lose your identity. You're nobody's slave. Not mine or Hank's or Venger's"

"God, Presto," she gulped, "you made me feel so good. Please don't stop now!"

Presto yanked off her blindfold and released her hands from their bonds. He kissed her again and then proceeded to suck on her nipples, catching each on in turn with his teeth. Sheila moaned in delight. Familiar sensations washed over her, yet they were different.

The pain she loved was there, but there was no violence behind the touches, no intent to harm or degrade. A warmth flooded her body and suddenly, Sheila found herself extremely aroused. She still wanted Presto to make love to her, but now, she wanted him to know how aggressive she could be as well.

She rolled over so that she straddled him. A wicked smile crossed her face and Presto grinned up at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. She was getting ready to mount him, when he sat up and pulled her to her knees. His mouth sucked at her skin, teeth scoring the soft flesh. She threw her head back and moaned deep in her throat.

Presto pulled her to her feet and led her towards the far wall away from the window. He backed Sheila up against the wall and held her hands above her head. At first, he thought she might resist, but she pressed herself to him and he eased his way inside her vagina.

Sheila gasped slightly as he entered her. It was the first time she had ever experienced a relatively normal sized man inside of her and it felt heavenly. Using a trick Venger taught her, she molded herself around his penis, causing him to sigh with delight.

As the sigh escaped Presto's lips, he thrust hard into her. He marveled at how experienced she had become in just three weeks. Even Amber had never felt this good around him. More importantly, he could feel Sheila begin to relax and enjoy being loved as a woman and not an object.

At first he worried about seriously hurting her, as Venger had, but she grabbed his buttocks and pushed him deeper inside of her. He stoked in and out of her hard and fast, making her cry out in the pain-tinged pleasure she craved. Finally, he could hold back no longer and came as quickly as he ever had. As he emptied himself inside her, he stroked her clitoris once more and she instantly came to orgasm as well.

They remained locked together for several minutes until they could catch their breath. Finally, Presto pulled out of her and lead her back to the bed. They laid down and he pulled her close to him, his arms locked around her.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked.

She was quiet for a moment before replying. "I think so. For the first time in two months, I think I'm really gonna okay.

She paused once more.

"Thank you. I know you love Varla and I didn't mean to, well, I mean I don't want you to…"

"Shhhh," Presto quieted her with a finger to her lips. "Yes, I love Varla, just as you love Hank. That doesn't change. But I wanted to do this. I wanted to love you, to help you. I've wanted to for a long time."

"You have?" she turned to face him. "But you never said anything. I never knew."

He shrugged. "I never told you. We were still back on Earth and I had a crush on you. But there was Hank and he was the captain of the football team and you were head majorette and all. So I did the right thing and kept quiet.

"You love Hank and he loves you. I can't compete with that, never could. But tonight, you were hurting so much. I wanted to make you feel better."

"You did," she whispered as she looked up at him. "I felt, well, like I was a person, someone who maybe wasn't so bad after all. But I used you.

"I came on to you because I thought I could, oh I don't know, take a part of you, a good part, and put it in me. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he kissed the top of her head. "We may have started this for the wrong reasons, but we finished it for the right ones.

"And you did take a part me of into yourself, well in a way. Remember outside of Darkhaven when Dungeon Master told Eric that once you were touched by magic you wouldn’t ever be the same?"

The thief nodded.

"Well, when we first came here, we were all touched by magic. Or maybe it was in us all the time. I don’t know, but I do know that it’s what allows us to use our weapons so well. And our ‘pureness of heart’ thing helps too."

"And?" Sheila prodded, looking the magician up and down and realizing that her desire for him had not yet been satiated.

"When we touch someone or something else that’s magic, we take part of that magic and add it to our own. I don’t know how or why it works, just that it does.

"So when you slept with Venger, you took a part of his magic, both good and bad. And just now, you took a part of my magic, too. Likewise, I took a part of your magic into me tonight. So you see, you did take a part of me, one of the purest parts, just like you wanted to."

Presto paused and pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.

"You might not have started out with that intention," he let his fingers trail down to her breasts and pinched her tight nipples, "but the result is the same. Don’t be sorry for that."

She sat up and looked at Presto, her hand stroking his cheek. "Even if we never do this again, I'll remember it forever. I don't know how, Presto Gray, but you made me believe that there is something still good in me. You gave me one of the best parts of you, and I can’t ever repay you for that. Thank you."

Presto reached up and pulled her back into his embrace, and kissed her fiercely. With a wave of his hand, the torches flickered once and died. Sheila growled deep in her throat and returned the kiss as he reached for a set of handcuffs which had fallen from his hat.

On the other side of Zenghai, Dungeon Master sat bolt upright on his bed. He could hear Sheila and Presto's conversation and he didn't like the way it was heading. The little man heard the thief begging the magician to make love to her, and him asking her if she knew what she was doing.

He couldn't let him them do this! They had to be stopped!

He hopped off the bed and started to vanish when a talon tipped claw clamped down on his shoulder.

"You cannot stop them, Dungeon Master," a throaty voice behind him hissed. "You know that."

"But they may very well destroy the prophecy if they continue this! You know as well as I they will not stop until daybreak, hurting as much as they do!" he spun around to face the Healer simply called Leader.

"That is not for you to decide," the robbed figure gestured to a small crystal orb floating beside the bed. "To stop them would be to violate the most sacred law of Zenghai: Do Nothing to Interfere With the Healing Process.

"And that, Dungeon Master, is what they are doing. They are healing each other's souls. If they are truly your Promised Ones of Prophecy, then they will fulfill it. The Reflecting Pond shows me nothing different."

The little man looked up into the Healer's face, its hood now pushed back. A sharp bird's beak and beady eyes were the focal point of an angular face that looked as if it should have been covered in feathers; Instead, it was covered in mottled yellow and orange skin.

"But I cannot stand by and do nothing. If my son takes the entire Realm…"

Healer held up his hand. "You know I cannot allow you to interfere. Even you, Dungeon Master, are bound by the Holy Laws of Zenghai. Our laws exist for a reason; do not question that.

"As I said, if they are the Promised Ones, this is all part of the universe's plan. You must trust in that."

The old man sighed and dimmed the light in ball. He knew Healer was right. There was nothing he could do. Still, that didn't mean he had to watch.