Chapter 34

Evil-Lyn looked up with a narrow gaze at the stars and the dark outline that was Grayskull. Skeletor had been insistent that their next attempt to seize Prince Adam had to take place at full moon dark, so here they were. She stood in the wood near the front of the castle with Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw at her back, prepared, against her better judgement, to be the diversionary attack. Skeletor, accompanied by Beastman, was ranging around the other side of the castle on griffonback. A doomseeker had lingered after they fled the last attack and had recorded the sickening reactions of the soldiers when they saw Prince Adam at a window in one of the towers.

At that point Skeletor had conceived a plan based around distracting both the guard and the Sorceress with a frontal attack while he flew up to the window and snatched Adam from his bedroom.

And she got the unparalleled honor of being the distraction.

"It's time," Tri-Klops growled behind her.

She suppressed a surge of irritation at the tech and nodded sharply. Then she lowered her staff and blasted the central tent of the garrison Randor had placed on the castle. It went up in a quite satisfactory shower of flaming canvas, and she strode forward, pleased by the sight of the guards running from all sides of Grayskull towards the front.

Her part of the plan was working nicely so far. It was time to engage the Sorceress.

She pointed her staff at the drawbridge and focused all the power she could on lowering it. The green glowing shield snapped up around the massive edifice, and Evil-Lyn spared a moment to hope that Skeletor was right that it would be easier to break out of the shield than into it.

Randor awakened abruptly as the shield around Grayskull sparked to life. He looked immediately toward the window, and he couldn't imediately recognize what he was seeing. A huge black shape largely blocked his view of the shield through one of the windows. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

Heedless of the risk, he flung himself across the room at the figure. A brilliant blast of red light hit him in the chest, briefly illuminating the form. Randor saw Skeletor sitting astride a griffin before he slammed backwards into the side of the bed.

He was dazed and paralyzed but was aware the world around him. He heard a muffled cry of alarm from Adam, and an odd thumping sound beside him. "Father?" Adam said, taking his chin and turning his head to look into his eyes.

A moment later, though, Adam released his head and, limp on his neck, it turned back again toward the window, and Randor could see Skeletor climbing through the window, one foot on the sill, a hand on either side of the frame.

Adam was scrabbling for a weapon amid Randor's armor, or at least that's what it sounded like.

Suddenly, another figure entered his line of sight, and he groaned. What was Marlena –

His wife made an enormous, violent motion, and Skeletor let out a scream of pain and pitched backward out the window. The griffin dove, allowing the dim green light of the shields to illuminate the room.

Marlena turned. "Adam?"

"Mother?" There was a pause. "Where's Skeletor?"

"I gave him his marching orders," the queen replied. "Are you –"

"Father!" Adam exclaimed, and he was suddenly at Randor's side again. "Should we get him onto the bed?"

A loud cry echoed in the abyss, but Evil-Lyn didn't allow it to distract her from her set task. A moment later, the shield faltered and went down. All resistance on the drawbridge abruptly ceased, and it slammed down to the stone.

She stared in complete shock. On either side of her, her colleagues froze in astonishment. Then a pair of griffins flew overhead and they could hear Skeletor calling the retreat. She reached a hand out helplessly toward the drawbridge, which still stood open and unguarded.

Tri-Klops took her arm. "We'd better go," he said, his voice harsh.

"But –" Trap Jaw said. "But don't you think he'd –"

Evil-Lyn turned sharply. "He wouldn't want us to succeed where he failed," she said, walking swiftly back to her own griffin. The others followed her, though Trap Jaw kept stuttering. Just before they took off, the drawbridge slammed closed again.

Randor attempted to speak as they tried to get him up onto the bed, but his muscles wouldn't work. It took both of them to lift him up, and just when they finally got him on his back on the mattress, the shield went down and there was an echoing crash. Adam ran to the window and looked out. "The drawbridge! It's down!"

Dorgan came into the room and flooded it with light. "Is everyone all – wait!"

Randor couldn't move and couldn't speak, so he couldn't see what was going on. He heard a scuffle in the doorway. "Adam, no!" Marlena exclaimed and left Randor's side. His heart, already beating fast, sped up with anxiety.

He couldn't tell anything for certain, but he thought he was alone. His mind filled with desperate questions. What was Adam doing? Was he trying to kill himself again? Was he trying to go fight with Skeletor or Evil-Lyn? The drawbridge was down – was he trying to go out? Where had they all gone? He thought he could hear voices in the next room, but it was impossible to make out what they were saying. His heart raced, and his breath was starting to come in short gasps. Was that emotionally caused, or was his diaphragm becoming paralyzed too?

An eternity of seconds passed, and then he heard Dorgan speaking. "Come on, Adam. We can't leave you alone, you have to walk with us." He could hear Marlena's labored breathing and a faint weeping that he thought must be coming from Adam.

A moment later, he felt something hit the bed and realized it was Adam as he curled up against him.

Dorgan leaned down into Randor's range of vision. "He seems to be aware of us. Randor, can you hear me?" The expression in his eyes must have been very telling, for the healer grimaced. "I seem to have annoyed him."

Dorgan moved away again, then returned with his tools and began checking Randor's reactions out. The king lay, his breath slowing gradually, his son curled up and weeping against his side. There was another loud bang, and Adam jumped, then burrowed closer.

"The drawbridge is back up," Marlena said from the direction of the windows. "And it appears that the soldiers have the fire under control now."

"Good," Dorgan said absently, shining lights into Randor's eyes. The king, irritated by the blinding glare, closed his eyes. "Randor, open your eyes," the healer growled.

"I don't think any of Skeletor's people are around, either," Marlena said.

"Unless they've gotten inside," Dorgan muttered. Adam moaned and Randor snapped his eyes opened again to glare up at the healer. Dorgan grimaced again and pressed his lips firmly together.

"No one has gotten inside," said a calming voice from behind him and to his left, roughly the location of the door way into the bed chamber. Dorgan looked up briefly then looked back down at Randor again.

"Glad to hear it."

"What has happened?" the Sorceress asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"I'm not sure. No one has actually told me what happened."

"I don't know what happened to Randor," Marlena said. "Skeletor was at the window, climbing in. I stabbed him and he fell."

The Sorceress hove into view above him, and he was beginning to wonder what really was wrong with him. He didn't feel as if he'd hit his head or neck in such a way to cause paralysis.

"This has no natural cause," she said, gazing down at him clinically. She raised a hand above his face, palm down, and it began to glow with a blue light. Several moments passed, and Randor began to feel tingly, as if there were pins and needles in his skin. He tried to move his arm, to put it around Adam. His fingers twitched slightly, which was a vast improvement over complete immobility.

"Be still a moment longer, king of Eternia," the Sorceress said. He stopped trying to move and lay still while she continued whatever it was she was doing. There was a slow increase in the glow, then a flash, and she spoke again. "Now, you should be fine."

He flexed his hands, testing the movement, then rolled over and pulled Adam close. "It's all right, son, they didn't get in, they didn't get you."

Adam huddled in his arms, weeping inconsolably.

"That vile, miserable, wretched amazon of a queen!" Skeletor ranted as they all entered the throne room together. Evil-Lyn kept her face expressionless and stayed near the back of the group, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She noticed that Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops were being similarly self-effacing. They probably didn't want Skeletor asking them questions any more than she did.

When he turned, she felt her jaw drop, and she suddenly realized just what he was angry about. There was a huge, bloody gash in the right side of his chest, and his right arm hung uselessly by his side. In his left hand he held a dagger that dripped blood. His eye sockets glowed a brilliant crimson, and Beastman carried his staff.

"She will pay for this injury," he growled. "As will her precious son." He climbed the steps up to his throne and flung himself down, hissing in pain. "And we are no closer to securing the prince." He put the dagger down on the arm of the throne and held out his hand toward Beastman. The havoc staff wrenched itself out of the hairy cretin's paw and flew into Skeletor's hand.

The lord of Snake Mountain raised the staff in his left hand. "Begone from my sight!" he screamed, and they scattered like leaves in a windstorm.

Evil-Lyn returned to her own bedchamber, contemplating the insanity this power was driving Skeletor to. Surely there were better ways to capture Adam. For one thing, they could wait until the boy emerged again from Grayskull.

But that would make sense, she thought dryly. And Skeletor has never been known for having much of that commodity.

Randor held Adam close until he fell back to sleep, and then he looked up at the others. "What happened?" he asked the Sorceress. "How did Skeletor get so close?"

"He approached the castle from behind, getting inside the perimeter of the shields while I was looking for Daviona," the Sorceress said, an expression of guilt suffusing her features. "Then there was a frontal attack and the shields came up. I did not look within them for a source of danger, but without. When he fled, he broke through the shield from the inside, which is not as strong as the outside, and the puncture brought them down."

"And the drawbridge?" Marlena asked.

"That was the focus of the attack. When the shields went down, that which held the drawbridge up went with them and Evil-Lyn pulled the bridge down. They did not, however, follow up on their advantage, for which fact I suspect we can thank Skeletor's monumental ego. His minions feared to anger him by succeeding where he had failed."

"Could he be more cliche?" Adam asked, and Randor looked down at his son. Apparently he hadn't fallen asleep, he had merely quieted.

"What?" the Sorceress asked.

"A sneak attack by full moon dark, there isn't anything much more cliche than that." He let out an aggravated sigh. "It's lame."

Randor found his son's reaction most reassuring. He was clearly not as badly undone has he'd seemed. Unless he's just hiding it better than you thought he could. He hugged Adam tightly. "Well, lame or not, it failed completely, and we all need to get back to sleep."

Adam shrugged. "I guess," he said. He cuddled in closer and Randor kissed the top of his head.

He looked up at their hostess. "Thank you, and good night," he said. She smiled and nodded, turning to leave. Marlena and Dorgan accompanied her out.

Cringer emerged sleepily from the bathing chamber and walked over to the bed, climbing atop it. Adam chuckled. "You missed all the fun, big fellow," he said. Cringer made an inquiring sound as he stretched and settled himself next to Adam. "Skeletor attacked." The cat let out a low, rumbling growl, but Adam stroked his head gently, calming him. "It's okay, boy," he said, "Mom got rid of him."

Marlena came back into the room. "Are you two really all right?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Adam reached out, caught his mother's hand and squeezed it. Then he returned his attention to the further smoothing of Cringer's smooth fur.

Randor caught his wife's eye and smiled. "Come to bed, love," he said.

"I have a few more things I want to deal with first," she said, rising. "Does either of you need anything?"

Adam shook his head and Randor said, "No, dear."

Marlena tucked the covers up around them and went out into the sitting room. Randor lay wakeful with Adam sandwiched between his own body and Cringer. Only when Adam's breathing slowed to the gentle rhythm of the sleeper did Randor allow himself to drift off.

"Sorceress?" Marlena said quietly, sitting on a chair in the room that Dorgan had taken as his infirmary. "Are you still awake?"

"I shall not sleep until morning," the Sorceress replied. "How can I help you, queen of Eternia?"

"So long as we are here, you are not going to permit the drawbridge to be lowered during an attack, right?"

"No, I shall not, if I can prevent it."

"And this thing with Skeletor tonight, that won't happen again?"

"I have already set alarms to prevent a recurrence," the Sorceress said. "Toward what end are these questions directed?"

Marlena sighed. "I realized tonight that, even here, Adam has too easy an access to weapons. My daggers, Randor's entire bloody arsenal, the tools of Dorgan's trade . . ."

"And?"

"First, is there some way you can lock this room? Make it inaccessible to Adam if he's alone?"

"I can," the Sorceress said.

"And is there another space nearby in which Randor can store his armor and weapons? Theoretically, he should have no use for them in an attack, but I'm loath to send them home in case a need for them does arise."

There was a moment of thoughtful silence. "I think something of the like can be arranged. And what of your weapons?"

"I'll leave my remaining blade with Randor's weapons."

"Remaining?"

"The one I used tonight left with Skeletor," Marlena said. "The other, I will leave with Randor's things."

"I see," the Sorceress said with a dry note in her mental voice. "Well, that certainly seems wise under the circumstances." There was another pause, then she went on. "I am very sorry that Skeletor got past my notice. That should not have happened."

"No lasting harm was done, except perhaps to Skeletor, and I find that I can tolerate that with a great deal of equanimity," Marlena replied. "Did you call Duncan?"

"I did. He was halfway here with the masters before the battle was over. They are outside, helping the guard to reconstruct their garrison."

"I presume you told them that we are well?"

"Of course. I suspect that Duncan will want to come in relatively soon to be certain. He is ever one who wishes to see things with his own eyes."

Marlena chuckled, relaxing against the back of the chair. "That's certainly the truth," she said. "Well, I guess that I had better stay up a little longer then, so that one of us will be awake to greet him."

"He is requesting entrance even now," the Sorceress said with a hint of amusement.

"I'm ready for him to come in, then. Just warn him that Randor, Adam and Dorgan are all asleep."

She felt assent, and then the Sorceress was gone. Leaning her head back against the chair, Marlena reflected that her life and her outlook on the world had changed dramatically over the past weeks. She would never have thought that she would calmly discuss anything with the Sorceress of Grayskull, much less converse with the woman while they were in separate parts of the castle by means of telepathic communication. And that left aside the astonishing fact that she and her family were all residing within the castle itself, even if temporarily.

She stood up. Duncan would undoubtedly arrive soon, and she wanted to greet him to keep him from awakening Randor or Adam. Thinking of Adam made her stomach clench slightly. His condition was desperately worrisome, all the more so because she had no idea what to do for him. She had no idea even if she could do much for him, as focused on his father as he had become.

There was a tapping on the door and she walked across to open it. Duncan walked in and looked around as if expecting to see a war zone. "What happened?" he asked. "The soldiers didn't see much, though they said that the drawbridge came down and stayed down for some time, and the Sorceress isn't being very forthcoming."

"Skeletor sneaked up on the castle," Marlena said, guiding Duncan to a seat. She outlined the events for him, discovering as she did so that she was growing weary past all measure. Falling asleep in a chair while reading was no longer as comfortable for her as it had once been, and the sleep nowhere near as restful.

"You actually stabbed Skeletor?" Duncan asked incredulously.

She raised an eyebrow. "I did," she said. "As I said, he was climbing in through the window, and the only way I could think of to stop him was to give him something else to think about."

"You say Randor was paralyzed?"

She nodded. "He couldn't move more than his eyelids, but the Sorceress fixed him." She raised a hand. "Before you ask, I have no idea exactly what happened to him. I was out here, sleeping in a chair when the ruckus started."

"And you look ready to fall over asleep now," Duncan said. "I should go. The others will have questions as well." He stood up. "Do you think Adam will be ready for company in the morning? I have my hands full of requests."

She pursed her lips. "A couple of visitors, I think. Mekanek would be a good choice. I know Adam's comfortable with him. Stratos could be too insufferably bracing, I suspect. He tends to be overly sympathetic and cossetting when he's concerned, and I'm afraid that Adam's not up to it right now."

"I agree," Duncan said. "Adam doesn't need his troubles emphasized just now, I wouldn't say." He smiled down at her. "Good night, my queen."

He left, and she went into the bedroom and climbed into the bed behind Randor, leaning up against his back.

Teela awoke from wretched dreams and went out to join her father for breakfast. It was the second night since her abrupt realization about her feelings regarding Adam, and the second night with truly hideous dreams. He questioned her closely regarding her dreams, for what the Sorceress had done was not supposed to stop her Sight, merely things like the uncontrolled incineration of tables.

Finally, as he was dwelling at length on one of the dreams that had been most unpleasant, and that she least wanted to remember and discuss for any amount of time, she lost her patience. "It didn't feel like one of the real dreams, Father!" she snapped irritably. "Those are different." She could hear that her voice was strident, but she just pursed her lips and looked down at her plate.

"How so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Is this a test? Is he just pushing me to see if I can actually identify differences between Seeing dreams and ordinary ones? She gave a moment's thought. "They wake me up, for one thing," she replied, helping herself to another piece of toast. "And there's a sense of urgency during them and afterwards. These were just nightmares, that's all."

"Very well," he said, and she rolled her eyes. Sometimes her father could be so pompous. "But I still want you to talk about them with me. You may not always have considered them closely enough."

"Yes, Father," she said, sighing. "I just don't want to examine some of the ones like I had last night too closely." Adam trapped, injured and in pain, and I'm the only one who can help him . . . but I can't get past the barriers. Adam alone and weeping, and while I can hear him, I can't find him. Adam dead and laid out on a pallet in the Great Hall so that the people can pay their last respects. She sighed deeply. I'm sensing a trend here. Is being in love supposed to be so nerve-wracking?

"Well, I've sent for more materials so that you and Nalineph can continue your research."

She looked up, startled. "Our research? But, Father, that was focused toward finding the lair near Tronak. We've found it. What would we be looking for now?"

He nodded, swallowing the last of his chai and wiping his lips with a napkin. "That's why I sent for more materials. I want you to broaden your research, see if you can find any reference to her anywhere in the time frame we've laid out. She has to have gone to ground somewhere. Perhaps you can find something that will give us a direction."

Her brows knit together, as she imagined the enormity of that task. It had been bad enough addressing the records of just one region, but looking over all of Eternia, and anywhere else they could get records for . . . that was more than merely daunting, it was damned near impossible. "Just Nalineph and me?" she asked.

"I will be seeing if I can find others to help you," he said. "But the two of you have already worked out a formula for what you're looking for. I don't want to disrupt that any more than I can help."

She sighed and nodded. "I guess I can understand that. And we work together pretty well." Rising, she started to go out of the room to seek her partner in dusty research.

"Um . . . Teela?" her father said before she reached the door. She turned back, puzzled by his hesitancy. "I think you'd better know. There was an attack on Grayskull last night."

Her jaw dropped. "An attack? Why am I only hearing about it now?"

"I was out the door and headed toward the hangar before I realized I hadn't wakened you. I took the night watch masters with me, figuring that with the garrison, we'd be all right. The attack was over before we got there."

"But I didn't –" Teela felt baffled and confused. "I didn't See anything. If Adam was in danger, why didn't I See anything?"

"The Sight isn't always that reliable, dearheart," her father said, walking over and putting his hands on her shoulders. "It isn't always that predictable."

"It's not right!" she growled. "If I have to have the damned things, they ought to come whenever there's a problem, not just sometimes when there's a problem. What happened?"

"Skeletor nearly got into Grayskull," Duncan said and Teela bit her lip. "He managed to get inside the perimeter of the shields before they came up and started to climb in a window."

Teela blinked. "A window?" she repeated incredulously. "He tried to climb in through a window?"

"Marlena stabbed him and he fell."

The image of the outraged look on Skeletor's face when he realized that little Queen Marlena had been the downfall of his latest plan made her want to laugh until it occurred to her that he would be humiliated by the event. In Skeletor, humiliation led to anger and cruelty. Thus far, he had left the queen out of his attacks and schemes. "He's going to be furious with her," she said.

Her father looked up, startled, then his eyes widened. "Oh hell, you're right. He's going to want her blood for that."

They were silent for a moment of shared dread, then she shook her head, trying to stop worrying about something she couldn't change. "When can I go back and visit Adam again?"

He smiled, evidently as grateful for the turn of the subject as she was. "I've got you scheduled for a full day the day after tomorrow."

She was torn between distress that it was so far away and elation that it would be a full day. After brief consideration, though, she decided on elation. A couple more days might help her get her turbulent emotions under firmer control.

Her father seemed surprised when she simply thanked him for the information and left to go to her work. She wasn't looking forward to a day spent with the books again, but she was willing to do anything that would help them find Daviona and destroy her once and for all.

Adam and his father left his mother sleeping and went out into the sitting room. Cringer stayed in bed, curling up against the queen. "Skeletor came last night, didn't he?" Adam asked his father as they settled down to their breakfasts. "That wasn't a nightmare."

"No, it wasn't a nightmare," Randor said. "He came."

"And Mom stabbed him?" His father nodded, and Adam felt his heart sink. "And I was completely useless. Worse than useless." He looked down at his plate, his appetite gone.

"You were not useless, son. You helped your mother get me onto the bed."

Adam sighed. "Yeah, but I acted like a ninny while Skeletor was actually here. I should have run across and shoved him, that would have sent him out the window and Mother wouldn't have had to get involved."

He hadn't looked up from his plate as he spoke, but his father made an odd sort of strangled sound and reached out to grab his left hand. Adam looked up into his father's worried eyes.

"I want you to promise me something, Adam," the king said urgently. "I want you to promise that if Skeletor comes anywhere near you, you will run as fast as you can in the opposite direction."

Adam shook his head. "Father, I can't flee like that. I have to –"

His father's hand tightened on his, and his eyes seemed to bore into him. "Listen to me, Adam," he said, his voice deep with emotion. "It's you Skeletor wants. If he gets hold of you, he simply takes off and he has what he was after in the first place." Adam's stomach chilled at the thought of being in the clutches of Snake Mountain's lord again. "If you'd shoved at him last night, he might simply have wrapped his arms around you and carried you out the window with him, allowing the griffin to catch you both and carry you back to Snake Mountain."

The prince wanted to hunch up into a ball, as if that would hide him from such an attack. He breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, wishing that life could go back to something akin to normal. He-Man could deal with Skeletor, but Adam can't, he thought suddenly. "Father, I need my sword," he said, looking up earnestly. "I need a way to protect myself."

The worry and sadness in his father's eyes took him aback, and then the king shook his head. "No, Adam, I'm sorry." He reached a little further and touched the bandage on Adam's left arm. "We can't allow you to have weapons right now, son, you must see that."

"But –" Adam shook his head, horrified. "But if Skeletor comes – or Daviona – I won't have any way to defend myself!"

"You will run," Randor said firmly. "You will not risk yourself in a direct confrontation."

"But what if there's no choice? What if I run out of places to run? What if I'm cornered?"

"There will always be people with you, son," his father said sympathetically. "But we can't give you a weapon."

Adam stared down at his plate unseeingly, his left hand still in his father's affectionate grip, his right hand in his lap. They don't trust me, he thought, gulping.

"Adam?" his father said. "Adam, I'm sorry, but –"

"No, it's fine," Adam said, his voice sounding dead to his own ears. His father flinched. Adam stood up and pulled away, going over to the sofa to sit down. He leaned into the corner of the seat, bringing his knees up to his chest and putting his feet on the cushion in front of him. Resting his chin on his knees, he stared at nothing, wishing he could stop thinking, stop feeling, stop caring about anything.

After a few minutes, his father came over and sat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Adam didn't look at him.

"Son, it's not meant –"

Adam looked up, and the look on his face made his father break off. "Please, don't talk right now, okay?"

Randor nodded. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" Adam shook his head and looked down again. The king stood up and said, "Budge over, would you?" Sighing, Adam shifted and let his father slide in behind him on the sofa, so that he was no longer leaning into the corner of the back and the arm, but the corner of the back and his father's side.

He didn't know how long they stayed in that position because he felt so numb and dismayed that he wasn't able to pay attention to time's passage. The only thing he was good for anymore, the only thing he had that allowed him to contribute to his world, his kingdom, was being denied him. Not that I really want the damned thing! Adam thought savagely. Sometimes I think being He-Man is more trouble than it's worth.

But he knew that wasn't true. Prince Adam couldn't catch falling towers, or rip whole hillsides away to use as missiles. Prince Adam could not defeat Skeletor, and that was the pure, simple truth of the matter. But He-Man can't inherit the throne, he thought. For all the good that does me.

"Good morning," his mother said. Adam looked up and gave her a half-smile. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Adam said, resting his chin on his knees again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her glance at his father, then sigh and nod. He'd probably given her some signal that he'd explain later. This was wretched. He wanted to stop being prey to every emotion that flitted past him. He wished he could simply exert some kind of iron control that would allow him to disregard his emotions, but when he'd tried that earlier, tried to force normalcy, it had led to . . . . He averted his thoughts hastily from that train, but it would not stop.

Tears started pouring down his cheeks, wetting the knees of his pants. At least he managed to weep silently this time, so his parents weren't aware of it. Cringer stepped up onto the sofa in front of him and rubbed his legs, then looked into his face.

"Mrow?" he said, licking one of Adam's cheeks, and a moment later, he reached out with his front paw and patted his father's leg.

"Yes, Cringer?" Randor said, looking up from the papers he was reading. "What is –" Adam felt himself being turned, then his father lifted his chin and looked into his face. "Adam, what –" He broke off and fell silent, simply pulling Adam into his arms.

Unwillingly, feeling like a fool but utterly trapped in his misery, he cried on his father's chest until his tears were exhausted. After that he just lay, numb and weary, in his father's arms. He wasn't sure how long that lasted either, but finally Dorgan walked up.

"Well, Adam, it's time for me to run some tests on you again," he said, disregarding the evidence of the emotional storm that had shaken the prince earlier, if, indeed, he noticed them in the first place.

Adam sat up, putting his feet on the floor and looked at his father. The mute entreaty must have gotten through, for the king stood up with him and accompanied him into the infirmary chamber.