CHAPTER ELEVEN

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"Just so you know, I'm not actually Tom Hanks."

He grinned smugly at the shocked young people. "I just took this form to see the expression on your faces. I'm quite pleased by it."

They were still bewildered. "What?" The Terror said. "You thought that I was ignorant of your world?" He wagged a finger at them. "Oh, I know plenty about it. But let's discuss this world instead. Or, as you should call it, your graveyard."

The mace glowed brightly in Ben's hand. "Just try something," he snarled.

The Terror placed his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "You really believe I'm afraid of you?"

"Yes," Tomas said.

"Ah. Your ethnic-appropriate leader speaks. What say you, Good Knight Token?"

"I'm saying – your army is no more."

The Terror looked at the giant Steelkin lying on its side. "True. You did destroy the power source for them." He faced Tomas. "But I don't need them."

"Then why didn't you fight us from the beginning?"

"Hmm. You have a point. I admit that I didn't expect this last maneuver of yours. Of course, you remembered Dungeon Master's silly old riddle, didn't you?" He applauded. "Bravo. Well-played." He lowered his hands. "It's just that – you've only gotten this far because I let you."

"No. All the dangers we faced were real."

"They were, they were. I wanted you to be tested. I wanted you to overcome adversity. I wanted you to…feel hopeful. I wanted you to taste victory right before I snatched it away."

The Terror clenched his fist. He slowly raised it. "You've been entertaining, but the game is over. The game was over from the very start. And I'm…"

"STOP!"

The Terror quickly looked to his right. He kept his fist outstretched. Tomas' group looked in the same direction.

Dungeon Master was there. He had one hand raised. He looked at the Terror with the authority of a god. "You will not harm these children!" he proclaimed. "You will leave them be! Go back to the shadows and BE GONE FOREVER!"

The Terror remained absolutely still and quiet for a few seconds. Then he said –

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Dungeon Master paused for a moment. Then he said, "I order you to…"

"Oh, do shut up. What Good Knight Token said about me is meant for you. If you could have stopped this, you would have done it a long time ago. But that's not how it works."

"I was not the one to interfere with the natural forces of the Realm. When you brought one of The Six here, you violated the…"

The Terror laughed. "I violated nothing. You're just jealous because you didn't anticipate the last six whelps that came here. If you could have done it, you would have done the same as me."

Tomas studied the old man's face. He could see a little doubt, a little guilt.

"Everything I've done," the Terror continued, "has been perfectly consistent with the rules of the Realm – the rules a Dungeon Master must abide by."

He looked at the six young ones. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

"I am not leaving."

Surprise appeared on the Terror's face. He quickly faced Dungeon Master. The old man was hesitant, but he declared, "I shall defend them from you."

"If you do that," the Terror said slowly, "then the Realm falls apart."

"The Realm will be my problem. Whatever happens, I will not tolerate your presence for a second longer." Dungeon Master lowered his eyes a bit, as if he was using a gun sight. "I'm telling you for the last time – leave or I'll…"

"This is not your fight."

Dungeon Master quickly looked to the one who had spoken. "This is our fight," Tomas said. His voice was gentle but still commanding. "You must let us finish our quest."

"But…you cannot…"

"Yes. We can. This is what the Realm chose us to do. That's clear now. We must do what The Six has to do. Us, and no one else. Certainly not you."

Dungeon Master wanted to plea with Tomas, but the young man's unblinking eyes prevented him from speaking. He looked to the others. They had the same resolve. They wanted to fight their enemy.

He lowered his trembling hand. "If that," he whispered, "is your wish, Knight." He bowed his head. "I shall step down from this battle. But remember…"

The Terror spun toward Dungeon Master. He opened his fist. A black flame leapt from his fingers. It struck Dungeon Master. He vanished and left a pile of ashes.

"No riddles!" barked The Terror. He looked to the young ones. The face of Tom Hanks smiled at their shock. "Oh, don't worry," he said. "He'll pull himself back together."

He held up his hand. Another black flame danced on the palm. "You, on the other hand…"

He blew on his hand. His mere breath made the flame dart forward like a bullet.

"Scatter!" Tomas ordered. As he did, he swung his weapon. He tore apart the flame into sparks. However, the shock of contact almost made him drop the sword.

Ben said to Oliver, "Can you help me in a sneak attack?" Oliver nodded. Ben motioned to his back.

Oliver hopped onto it and clutched the bigger man with his one good arm. Despite the pain in his other arm, he reached behind him and pulled up his hood.

Ben went after The Terror. Oliver thought – wait, can the cloak work like this? What if it's limited to…

The Terror saw Ben. He turned and fired at him. The black flame went right through Ben and his rider. Oliver sighed with relief.

With The Terror distracted, Tomas went on the attack. He closed the distance between him and his enemy. He drove his sword toward the skull of Tom Hanks.

The Terror spun and swiped the wide part of the blade with his hand. The shock was harder than before. It almost sent the sword flying. Tomas stumbled and tripped to the ground. The Terror pointed at him, ready to shoot another flame.

"Off!" Ben yelled. Oliver pushed himself from Ben. He fell on his side. He was ready for a new pain, but the cloak – as he had suspected – insulated him from the fall.

Nothing insulated The Terror from Ben's mace. He turned just in time to get the weapon right across his cheek. Ben swung it backward and caught him across the other side of his face.

The Terror looked at Ben. He had two holes in his Tom Hanks face. A pulsating black substance was visible through his broken skin.

He smiled. Then he swung his fist at Ben. The young man blocked it with his mace, but the impact knocked him off his feet.

Both of The Terror's hands ignited. He looked between the two fallen men and said, "Now…"

Oliver had crawled toward him. He quickly pulled down his hood, placed his hand on the ground behind the Terror and then whipped the hood back up.

The Terror fell right through the ground. He left no mark on the dirt. He simply passed through it.

Oliver lowered his hood and grinned. Tomas and Ben picked themselves up. "What happened?" Tomas asked.

"I just figured it out," Oliver said. "I can control what gets affected by the cloak. I can make something insubstantial if I'm touching it."

"Which…you just did to the ground."

"Right under The Terror's feet."

"So that's it?" Ben said. "He's trapped?"

Before Oliver could answer, the ground rumbled. He reached for his hood, but it was too late. An explosion of dirt sent him flying. He landed, rolled twice and then lay absolutely still.

The Terror floated out of the new crater. His clothes were filthy, and new cracks had formed on his skin. However, he seemed nonchalant. "CLE-ver," he said. "Very clever." He pointed a fiery hand at the unconscious man. "But pointless…"

"Keep away from him."

He turned. He saw Kathy. She was standing ten feet away from him. She held the amulet toward him.

"Well, well, well," he chuckled. "Stand by your man."

"I'm warning you…"

"Sorry, godgirl, but your success with that amulet has been, uh, a little uneven."

"Then why don't you kill me?"

Ben and Tomas watched helplessly as The Terror shrugged and said, "Have fun in heaven. Or wherever."

He shot a black flame. Kathy kept her eyes open and her arm outstretched as the fire rushed toward her. She whispered, "In Jesus' name I pray…"

The flame hit the amulet.

The amulet sucked up the flame.

The Terror said, "What?"

The flame burst from the amulet and rocketed back to its origin. It scorched The Terror. When it burned itself up, The Terror had more gaps in his clothes and flesh.

He shook his head briefly. "Okay," he said. "That was clever, too. But…"

The amulet shot a thin beam of light. It was long, yellow and pure. It hit The Terror on his chest and burned into him.

"Aaaah." The Terror grimaced as if he felt a bad itch. "Okay, that stings a little. But it's not enough. You'll…"

He heard a crack. He turned toward the frozen captives. Genuine surprise rose on his face.

The ice around Blaze's face was melting. Fire was on the tip of his mouth. Cracks were spreading from its snout to its tail.

He wasn't alone. The much larger dragon was also heating up its straightjacket of ice. Between both dragons stood Charlie with his glowing staff held high.

"How…how are you…"

Charlie's expression showed knowledge beyond what The Terror or your average boy could have. "They were just asleep," he said. "I told them to wake up."

With a heave of their backs, Blaze and the big dragon shattered the ice. White chunks showered the ground with a crunch. The big dragon spread its wings and stared at The Terror with angry dark eyes. Blaze had no wings to spread, but its hate was just as clear.

They marched toward The Terror. Charlie marched between them.

The Terror said, "You're gonna take this personally, aren't you?"

They poured fire upon their enemy. The hot breath of the big dragon could be felt by everyone. As for The Terror…

"Hee-hee-hee." His melting skin did not bother him. The combination of fire and the crystal laser were still painful, but he kept smiling.

Ben scrambled toward Tomas. "Want to make another try?" he asked. "We can't just sit here."

Tomas watched the figure standing almost nonchalantly in the inferno. "No, we can't," he said. "But we need a different tactic."

"Like what?"

Tomas turned his gaze to Ben. "You know what I mean. You felt it before, didn't you?"

At first, Ben was confused. Then he remembered the accidental clash of his mace with Tomas' sword. Something had been stirred in the contact – something that dwelled inside both weapons, but could only be awakened when together.

Ben nodded. They took a position in front of The Terror. Ben pulled back his mace. Tomas pulled back his sword.

They swung them forward. The weapons met each other. Ben and Tomas forced themselves not to stagger back from the impact.

A single oscillating note rose. It was the same sound they had heard before. Only this time it didn't go away. It grew and grew until…

The golden beam shot from their connected weapons. It hit The Terror dead on.

He screamed. He fell to his knees.

Everybody kept pouring on the assault. Kathy continued to drill with the amulet's laser. The dragons didn't stop breathing fire. Even though they felt like they were riding a wild steer, Ben and Tomas did not relent. They had opened something deep and powerful. They had never experienced anything like it. Surely this would conquer their enemy; surely this would win the day.

The Terror had lost all of his movie star form. He was just a black energy in the form of a man. He had bowed under the combined forces against him.

Then he stood – slowly yet inexorably. His face had no features except for a dark mouth and two midnight eyes.

"All right," he growled. "Now I'm mad."

He raised his arms. Black tendrils extended from his fingers. They dug into the fire, the laser and the golden beam like insects into wood. They began to force them back.

His opponents didn't stop, but they could sense a mighty force about to be unleashed. Fear was rising in their hearts. They had thrown everything they had at this monster. He still kept coming back for more.

Then Charlie remembered the flute. It was still hooked under his belt.

He looked to the huge dragon. His sister stood near the tail. She watched this battle, not knowing what to do or how to help.

He ran toward her. He pulled out the flute and showed it to her.

She stared at it, utterly confused. Charlie shook the flute, insisting that she accept it.

In his first years of life Charlie viewed sign language as a perfectly natural thing to learn. He didn't care that his sister couldn't read him a story or sing a tune or even know the sound of his voice. She was still the one who could make him feel better by just smiling. He trusted and loved his older sibling like no else in the world.

That's why Dawn took the wooden flute from him. She looked at its six holes. She had no idea of music, anymore than she knew how to defeat The Terror. And yet there was her brother, looking to her with faith.

So she placed one end in her mouth. She arranged the fingers of one hand over the holes. She closed her eyes.

The flute glowed. She breathed. Her fingers pressed three holes and left two open.

Over the sound of fire and energy blasts, a new sound managed to be heard. It shouldn't have been. It was too gentle and soft. Still, it reached every ear.

They had never heard music like it before. The melody was almost indistinct, but they would never forget it. Despite its softness, it grabbed their attention like an explosion. They would have stopped what they were doing and listened, if the music hadn't been telling them Don't relent, don't give up, the fight is not yet over…

Yes, it was speaking to all of them, including The Terror. He did not like what he heard.

He shook his head slowly at first. Then he started to twitch. "Stop it," he muttered. "Stop that…"

The music would not leave him be. He covered his ears. "Stop it!" he yelled. "I demand that you stop it!" If he could have, he would have found the musician and done many horrible things to her. He had already promised to do them, but she was no longer his prisoner. She was free, free like the notes fluttering in the air.

He couldn't think. His mind was being squeezed. His sadistic will was puny compared to this beauty. You are nothing, it said. You are dust. This is the music in the heart of life. You are hearing the essence of friendship and love. Know it and know how small you are.

He screamed, much louder than before. When he fell to his knees, he did not get back up. His weak body was punished even further by the breath of dragons, the combined power of magic and faith, and the might of a power forged in unity. He could have fought back against them, but the sixth warrior had joined them. She was preventing him from drawing on his full strength. Her music was the last thing needed to defeat him.

His scream became inhuman. It was the screech of a trapped animal. His body was locked in a posture of agony.

Then…crack.

Or, rather, CRACK!

It was like the flash of a great light bulb going out. Only this bulb contained darkness instead of light. The flash blinded everyone. Almost all of the different attacks stopped as eyes were closed and covered. Dawn kept playing.

Gradually the flash's effects melted away. Everyone around The Terror blinked several times and then looked at him.

Only he wasn't there. Nothing was in his place. It was as if he had never existed.

Dawn finished the song. The last notes faded.

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Oliver was not looking forward to consciousness. The last time he was awake, nothing good had been happening. However, the hand gently tapping his cheek and the voice calling to him could not be ignored. He opened his eyes.

He saw Kathy first. She was kneeling at his side. Her face showed gratitude. Standing near her was the rest of their little crew.

He slowly looked around him. Then he said –

"If I don't hear we won, somebody is going to get slapped."

Kathy smiled. So did anyone else. "Then we're safe," Tomas said.

Oliver released a long sigh. He took a moment to relax. Then he tried to sit up. "What happened? How did…"

Several pains stuck him at once. In the arm, of course, but also on the neck, back and head. "Please tell me you got that amulet working," he begged Kathy. "And that you can make some aspirin."

"Well…" she said.

"Allow me," another voice said.

The next thing Oliver knew, one hand was touching his forehead and another was upon his arm. Everybody else backed off. He just lay stunned under the warm touch of Dungeon Master. An electric yet soothing sensation went through his body.

"There," Dungeon Master said. "Rise, good spy."

Oliver did just that. He felt remarkably well. His wounds and bruises had vanished.

"Uh, thanks," he said. "I…"

A tongue lapped his neck – a very big and sticky tongue. He spun and saw a mouth that could swallow his whole head. He scurried backwards, yelping. He stared wide-eyed at a dragon much, much bigger than Blaze.

"It's all right," Charlie said. "He likes you."

"That's…dandy," Oliver gulped.

"Indeed it is," Dungeon Master said. He rubbed the huge golden dragon on its chin. It purred contentedly. "This dragon owes you a debt of gratitude." He frowned. "But the work is not completed…"

He turned to the other frozen captives. He made a slight motion of his hand. The ice melted from them in a cloud of steam. Several men, women and non-humans were left blinking in confusion.

He turned to the Citadel. "And we'll have to take care of that." He made another slight motion. With a fantastic noise the Citadel sank into the ground. Less than a minute passed before the earth swallowed the metal building.

He turned to the young ones. They were staring at him with open mouths. "I can do this now," he said, almost apologetically. "You have fulfilled your duty."

A few seconds of quiet passed before Tomas said, "Have we?"

The others looked at him. "You came back," Tomas noted. "And The Terror seemed nearly as powerful as you. So is he gone for good?"

Dungeon Master's face became sad. "No," he admitted. "Evil like him cannot be vanquished so easily."

"Easily?!" Oliver yelped.

"What I mean is – you have won today's battle. The war has not yet been won."

Tomas slowly nodded. "I guess you would know…Venger."

Dungeon Master looked as if someone had just kicked him. The other young ones looked between him and Tomas, utterly bewildered.

Then the old man nodded. "Yes. I was Venger."

"Hold it," Ben said. "You were the top villain? You were the guy that The Six fought?"

"I was the one that The Six set free. How did you learn this, Knight?"

"It's been in the back of my mind," Tomas said, "ever since I read about the first Six. Jerod said that your father was Dungeon Master before you. We had assumed that Venger was your son, but…well, it just clicked now."

"Hm. I did not wish to tell you, but I was wrong to remain silent. You should have known the truth."

"So," Ben said, "you got your father's job even after what you did."

"I accepted my father's responsibilities. When I first understood the limits that a Dungeon Master must accept, evil and chaos seemed…attractive." He looked down at the ground. "Venger would not have taken the chance of letting others fight The Terror. He would have fought him directly, no matter what happened to The Realm."

"But you had faith in us," Kathy noted.

"Not quite. Not at first." Dungeon Master raised his eyes. "The Good Knight Tomas had to remind me of what's true. I had to let you win."

"You were right to be afraid," Tomas said. "We would have lost if it hadn't been for Dawn." Tomas indicated the woman who was reading their lips, but still not understanding the conversation.

"Of course." The old man turned to Dawn. "Which reminds me…"

In the blink of an eye Dawn had new clothes. They were brightly colored. A pair of long stockings rolled down from shorts to leather shoes. Above them were a loose red tunic and feathered hat.

"You are," Dungeon Master said to the startled woman, "the Troubadour. You may not hear music with your ears, but you can sing it with your heart. Your flute allows the world to know your inner symphony. Use it so that pain may become joy and evil bow to innocence."

After she finished reading his lips, Dawn stared at him for a moment. Then she turned to the others and signed – Could someone explain what the [censored is he talking about?

"He means," Ben said as he walked toward her, "you're needed." He kissed her forehead. Then he signed – I've always known that.

Ben's love overwhelmed her confusion. She looked down at the flute, then raised her face and smiled.

"You are all needed now," Dungeon Master said. "The Terror will return. He will come in a different form, and he will not make the same mistakes twice. Prepare for his next attack."

"I suppose we have no choice," Tomas said. "We can't leave the Realm until we put him down for good. Right?"

Dungeon Master was very hesitant before responding. "You will always have choices, good knight. Make them wisely. Just know that I will be watching over you."

He placed his hands together and bowed. Then he turned and headed for the canyon's bend. The unfrozen people watched in awe as he passed them. When he turned the bend and left their sight, they looked to the young ones. One of them – a man with a bow – walked toward Tomas.

The archer asked, "Are you the leader of this group?"

Tomas spent a moment wondering about the best way to answer this. Then he said, "Yes. I am Tomas the Knight." He motioned toward Ben. "This is Ben the Viking. And this is Kathy the Witch, Oliver the Spy, Charlie the Shepherd and Dawn the Troubadour."

Blaze coughed.

"Oh, yes. And this is Blaze, our companion dragon." He paused and then said, "We are The Six."

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Blaze and the big dragon were talking with each other. Nobody else could understand what they were saying, except for Charlie. He watched the dragons grunt and click their tongues. He waited nervously for Blaze to answer a question.

The young dragon answered. Charlie smiled. The big dragon nodded respectfully to Blaze. Then he spread his wings, ran a few steps and took to the sky. Tomas and the others watched this great beast – a mighty creature rising like a feather on the wind – and couldn't help thinking that this world was a place worth knowing.

Blaze and Charlie returned to the group. "The big dragon said that he could take Blaze back to his clan," the boy explained. "But Blaze wanted to stay with us."

"He's certainly welcome," Tomas said. He paused. "Okay, then…"

Ben said, "Where do we go now?"

Tomas looked to the east. They had left the Canyons of Yanday behind them. They were standing on another long plain. The four suns had returned to the sky.

"We'll go to that village suggested by the archer," Tomas said. "There may not be any people there right now. But that'll change soon. Everybody who got chased out by The Terror will be returning."

"So we go to the village," Ben said.

"Yes. If you agree with it."

"I'll go…where our leader says."

Ben and Tomas looked at each other. They both knew that the hatchet hadn't been buried, but a hole had been dug for it.

"Thanks, amigo," Tomas said. He spoke lightly – just enough to soften his point. Ben gave him a half-smile.

"Let's get going," Tomas declared. They started on another long walk – this time with less weariness and more confidence.

Oliver walked alongside Kathy. "Oh, uh, by the way…" he said.

"Yes?"

"I made this for you." He held up a tiny crucifix. It was made out of short twigs and a thin bowstring borrowed from the archer.

Kathy looked at it with an open mouth. Then she smiled. She accepted it and slipped it around her neck. The cross now rested next to the amulet.

"Thank you, Oliver."

"It's just…you know…" He shrugged. A blush was rising on his face. He became aware that Charlie was giggling and that Ben was giving him a sly look. As usual, Oliver used silliness to cover his embarrassment.

"The grrrrreatest advenTURE is what lies ahead," he sang in a quavering, off-key voice.
"Todaaaaay and tomorROW are yet to be said."

Ben's face became confused. "Huh?"

"It's from The Hobbit. The old animated movie."

"Oh. Well, let's not sing that one."

"Okay. How about…" He raised his arms and warbled –

"Wake up, kids

"We've got the dreamer's disease.

"Age fourteen, they got you down on your knees…"

Ben rolled his eyes and looked away from the spy. Oliver kept singing.

"But when the night is falling

"You cannot find the light, light…"

Tomas suddenly joined him in the song. Everybody else stared at him as he sang, "If you feel your dreams are dyin', hold tiiiiiiiight…"

Then Kathy joined the chorus. "You got the music in you/ Don't let go/ You've got the music in you…"

And then Ben added his deep, surprisingly pleasant voice. "One dance left/ This world is gonna pull through…"

Oliver looked around him, surprised at what he started. Then he sang along with them. Charlie didn't know the song, but he bounced to the rhythm on Blaze's back. The dragon nodded to the beat. Dawn couldn't hear them, of course, but she could tell that they were singing together. She walked arm-in-arm with her boyfriend and toward the east with her closest friends. She felt the flute resting inside a long pocket, knowing that its music must be heard again. She was only beginning to understand its power and why she had been drawn into this world. For now, though, she was content to be among those she loved and those who loved her.

Stories about the new Six would quickly spread. From one end of the Realm to the other, there would be much talk about the Knight, the Viking, the Witch, the Spy, the Shepherd and the Troubadour. Everyone knew that The Terror would return. They knew that evil would bring havoc again. However, now they could do more than fear. They could hope. There were six young heroes out there, brave and clever. They walked through the Realm, ready to face the challenges ahead.

And the monsters would do well to get out of their way.

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