Chapter 48
Jeclarren awoke aware only of a crushing burden of misery, shock and horror. Sanviro still slept, and the lights were very dim. He rose and took care of a pressing need, then stood in the middle of the floor, staring at nothing, thinking nothing, feeling every wretched emotion he knew. How long he stood there he didn't know, but after a long while, his legs grew tired and he sat down on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them.
Once again time passed without markers, a stretch of desolate silence, broken only by the sounds Sanviro made in his sleep. Jeclarren was aware of him, aware of the room, but nothing mattered, nothing could touch him.
The lights came on awhile later, and there were footsteps. Then Sanviro was beside him. "Jeclarren, what are you doing?" The other man put an arm around his shoulders, then exclaimed, "You're ice cold!"
An odd thought wisped through Jeclarren's mind. I'm not cold . . . I should be shivering . . . Sanviro vanished for a moment then came back with a blanket that he wrapped around Jeclarren's shoulders.
"Let's get you up off the floor," Sanviro said. "Come on." Jeclarren wondered vaguely why he was bothering, but Sanviro was being sufficiently persistent that he gave in and got up. He sat on the chair that Sanviro guided him to and put his head down on his arms on the table. It was made of a very fine-grained wood, he noted, well-sanded and highly polished. Gradually, he became aware that Sanviro was still talking. "Jeclarren, what's wrong?" he asked. "What happened?" He kept repeating the questions until there were footsteps outside the room.
Jeclarren felt his whole body tense and he started shaking. Either the blanket that was still draped over him concealed this fact, or she didn't care, because she didn't say anything to him. The footsteps started again, moving away, and Sanviro returned to the table. He saw the increased reaction and pulled his chair to sit by Jeclarren.
"What is it?" he asked urgently. "You've got to talk about it." Jeclarren didn't speak. Sanviro kept trying for awhile, and rubbed his arms to warm him. Eventually the tremors ceased on their own.
Finally, words emerged unbidden from Jeclarren's mouth. "She's killing someone today."
At this point, Sanviro was in the middle of putting Jeclarren's breakfast in front of him, trying to get him to eat. "What?" he faltered. "Who?"
"I thought it was going to be one of us. You," Jeclarren said. He could hear his voice, but the words sounded like they came from someone else. The color drained from Sanviro's face. "She told me I was wrong, that we're developing too close a bond. That she was going to kill someone while she was out running errands." His shoulders began to shake again. "And, Elders help me, I was glad." He suddenly recognized what the shaking in his shoulders meant. Great racking sobs were traveling through him, but there were no tears.
"Ancients and Elders," Sanviro breathed. He put his arms around Jeclarren, but the chairs they were sitting in weren't suited to the gesture. Within moments they were both on the floor and Jeclarren was leaning against the younger man, his head on Sanviro's shoulder. Tears flooded forth abruptly, and he sobbed on the other man's shoulder for ages.
Things had been quiet around Snake Mountain for more than a week and Evil-Lyn was growing apprehensive. When Skeletor was quiet, it generally meant that he was hatching some insane plot or another. One which he would expect the rest of them to carry out, no matter how impossible it was.
So when he summoned her midmorning, she put down the experiment she had started with a resigned sigh and went to his throne room.
"Good morning, Evil-Lyn," he said genially. "That is all, Tri-Klops." The surly engineer bowed and backed out, passing her as she approached the throne.
"Good morning, Lord Skeletor," she said, bowing.
He favored her with a look that suggested that he was very well pleased with himself. "I have a task for you, my dear."
"Of course, Skeletor. You have but to command." The irony in her tone was clearly audible, and she could see that it was not lost on Skeletor, but he didn't seem to mind.
"I want you to increase our magical defenses. I have already asked Tri-Klops to strengthen the physical."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are we expecting an attack? Is there any specific form of magic I should guard against?"
He shook his head. "Imagine the most effective attacks you can and defend against them. Then search out attacks you would never think of, and defend against them as well." He nodded at her surprised expression. "Once we have Prince Adam, we can expect to be attacked from all directions. Not merely by his father and He-Man, but, the moment word spreads that he is a well and I have him, we can expect every wizard and sorcerer on the planet to attempt to secure him, and his power, for themselves."
"I see," she said.
"Once I have bound him to myself," Skeletor went on, clenching one fist in almost an attitude of one seizing a treasure, "I will have the power to take all Eternia in my grasp. But it may take time, once I have him, to accustom myself to the new power. With such an opportunity before us, we must not take foolish risks."
Evil-Lyn stared in incredulous silence up at the Lord of Snake Mountain for several long moments. Keldor had been a long range thinker, able to see possibilities and plan for consequences. It was one of the things he seemed to have lost in becoming Skeletor. Yet this plan . . . it looked to the future.
She realized that her silence was dragging on and cleared his throat. "Of course, Lord Skeletor," she said.
"We will seize him when he's been home for a few days. I want Randor to think he's safe, relax his guard a bit." Evil-Lyn nodded. "Just remember, until he's been bound to someone, he's very much up for grabs to whoever gets him first."
Bound to him? What does he mean? It was clear she was missing something specific, but what?
"I have some preparations of my own to make. The transformation spell will be quite tasking. Perhaps I should bind him to myself first, then use his own power to transform him." The skull-faced man chuckled. "Report to me with your plans in a day or so."
As she left, Beastman was entering. She wondered what preparations Skeletor wanted the oaf to make. Hurrying back to her chambers, she pulled out the references she had found that referred to wells. Once she had ascertained just what Adam was, she had discontinued her research. Evidently that had been a mistake.
Especially since it took her no more than ten minutes' reading to discover exactly what Skeletor meant. She raised her eyes from the page and stared at nothing. Once the power was bound to a sorcerer, the distance between the well and the sorcerer was of no moment. The sheer magnitude of what a well like Adam offered to any who could secure that access was unbelievable, impossible, intoxicating.
The temptation was incredible. Evil-Lyn imagined that amount of power at her fingertips. The desire was almost overwhelming. Sanity asserted itself however. She was very much satisfied with being beside the power rather than in the center of it. The focus of power tends to be a very dangerous place to stand.
What she didn't fully understand was why Skeletor would continue with the transformation. That was originally planned in order to make it possible for Skeletor to drain magic using sexual means. But the books were explicit that such means were unnecessary. Why would he pursue any kind of sexual relationship with someone who was, after all, a boy, regardless of what he might be transformed into?
She started to consider solutions to the problem she had been set, but thoughts of this insane cross-gender transformation kept interfering. It was wrong. There were no two ways about it. Even assuming Adam was homosexual, that didn't mean he would be happier as a female.
Grimacing, she forced herself to focus on ways to attack Snake Mountain.
Teela woke up feeling very odd. There was a heavy weight across her legs and another person directly in front of her. She opened her eyes and saw Adam's face inches away from hers, his blond hair sticking out at crazy angles. Tilting her head, she could see that Cringer was stretched out across both their legs, and she smiled. It was like when they were really little and they'd fall asleep after some court function or other.
Only it wasn't. When they were little, they had been like brother and sister. Now she was looking into the face of the man she loved, the face of the man she was bound to for life. Reaching out tenderly, she brushed his hair smooth and gently stroked the skin of his cheek. If he were awake, she would never dare to do so, but his deep, even breathing told her that he was still most definitely asleep. She wondered how he would react if he knew she thought he was beautiful.
She smiled. Probably he'd blush, then he'd glare at her. It was true, though. His golden hair and fair skin . . . his eyes so blue. The sky was rarely so pure and perfect a blue. And she had a sense of him, of his personality, now, that corresponded with his outer appearance.
After having telepathy, she had gone to the library and pulled out some very old books that talked about how the power worked. The Sorceress had said it was a mistake, but Teela hadn't been so certain. She'd wanted to be prepared if it ever happened again, so that she would be able to identify what was her and what wasn't. She had learned some meditation techniques that dovetailed well with what her father had taught her, and had gotten to know the shape of her own mind pretty well.
While she had slept, things seemed to have settled down a bit in her head, because she could now identify the part of her mind that was linked to Adam, and what edges she was able to analyze told her that Adam was as the people thought of him. Kind, gentle, sweet, innocent . . . Guilt suffused her at the thought of all the awful things she'd said about him over the past few months. She touched his cheek again lightly and banished the thought. Now was not the time to wallow in guilt, not if he was able to get anything like the same sense of her that she had of him.
His eyelids twitched and then flicked open. Caught staring at him, she flushed. His eyes were still very sleepy, but he grinned. "I guess it's my turn," he said. "I was watching you while you slept yesterday."
"What did you see?" she asked lightly.
"Quite possibly the prettiest girl I know," he said. "Though you're much prettier when you're at home behind your face."
"At home behind . . ." She trailed off, wrinkling her forehead. "Are you still asleep?"
He chuckled. "When you're asleep, there's no life to your face," he said. "You look like a very pretty statue, but I like you better when you're awake and animated. Like right now, when you're looking at me as if you think I've lost my mind."
His words and the way he was looking at her made her breath catch, but she forced a casual air. "I think you may have," she said. "We'll have to get Dorgan to see if it's slipped down somewhere odd and needs to be fished out again."
He reached out a hand towards her face and then abruptly dropped it straight to the spot on the side of her ribs that was the most ticklish, grinning fiendishly. She let out a shriek and retaliated in kind. Cringer flew off the bed, letting forth an irritated growl. They rolled, giggling and squealing, and then an enormous bearded figure rose above them and tickled them both mercilessly for a few moments.
Then they broke apart, all of them shaking with great gasps of laughter. Teela dragged herself to her feet and, while the other two were still incapacitated, she went quickly into the bathing chamber. She pressed her ear to the door quickly and heard Adam grousing good-humoredly to his father.
Breakfast was a pleasant meal. Adam sat down next to her and began quizzing her on what she had been doing. She answered carefully, not wanting him to become upset, and at her earliest opportunity started telling him details about the personalities of those she was working with. This had the good effect of diverting Adam's attention away from what they were studying, and of making him laugh.
As soon as breakfast was over, the king inveigled them all, including Dorgan, into a card game. They started with gin rummy, but soon shifted to poker.
She played better than she had the other night, but she had to admit that Adam's poker face had improved. Before all this had happened, it had been awhile since she'd played cards with him, or any game that involved bluffing. Of them all, however, Dorgan had the most impenetrable, inscrutable poker face. He just looked pleasantly interested, no matter what his cards were.
For betting tokens, they were using odd little octagonal bits of what seemed to be pot metal enameled in various colors and stamped with numbers to denote value. Before long, Dorgan and Adam both had sizable piles of them. The conversation remained very focused on the game, and Teela wondered if the king had planned that, if that was why he had been so set on their playing cards.
Her luck started to turn as she grew bolder and started picking up on some of Adam's tells. She had just won a large hand when her father and the queen returned.
Marlena had brought them letters from their witnesses. Teela unfolded hers right at the table, but Adam drew away to the window with his. Cringer sat in front of him and attempted to crawl onto his lap. This was very funny to watch because he wouldn't fit on the chair. He wound up on his hind legs on the floor and his forelegs up on Adam's lap, his chin resting on them. Adam scratched his head absently while reading his letters.
Teela scanned her letters quickly, seeking the salient information which was that both girls had agreed. That fact ascertained, she tucked them away to read in detail later.
She looked up to hear the queen saying, "Everyone is being very discreet and quite helpful. The court is bound to realize that something is being planned, but not what."
"Teela?" She looked up at the soft voice to see her father gazing down at her with clear evidence of concern. She smiled up at him and gave him a hug. He drew back to look somberly into her eyes. "Are you all right" he asked.
"I am," she said. "Really. Don't worry."
He seemed to examine her closely for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied.
"Wait till you hear Duncan's news, though," the queen said. "Duncan?"
Teela looked up at her father, who smiled sort of sadly. "Jeclarren appears not to have been quite so alone in the world as we, or in fact he, thought."
"How do you mean?" Adam asked, walking over. Cringer was right on his heels. She had begun to wonder if the great cat had picked up on something wrong with Adam that the rest of them were missing. It was impossible to ask a tiger, however. She resolved to corner Dorgan later and put the idea to him.
Her father looked over at Adam, and she could see the love and concern in his eyes. They had always acted like family, and now they would be family in truth. An alarming thought struck her abruptly and she glanced at the king and queen. Within two weeks, they would be her parents-in-law. She didn't know why that seemed so different to her, but it did.
"We were aware from things he had told others that Jeclarren had a man called Duros that he considered in the light of a father. We had thought, because it's what Jeclarren told people, that this Duros was dead. It turns out that he's not, and he's been looking for the boy for ten years. They were separated during the Unrest."
"Where is he now?" Randor asked.
"At the palace," the queen said. "I've given him rooms in the royal wing along with the others. With Teela gone, it seemed inappropriate to leave Romily in with Duncan, so I've moved her to a suite with Delira. They're putting together the wedding favors and doing a lot of giggling. Tailors are hard at work at clothing for the attendants, and for me and Duncan. They'll have to wait to start work on your clothing," she said, glancing at the king, Teela and Adam, "until you all come back."
"They have my measurements, Marlena," the king said.
"If they make clothes to those measurements right now, dear, you'll look like you're wearing a sack. You've lost weight. The tailor who measured me was quite cross with me for not keeping my figure."
Teela saw Adam edging up to lean against his father. Randor put an arm around his shoulders almost seeming not to notice. Cringer sat down practically on top of Adam's feet. Teela leaned up against her own father, enjoying the feeling of connection with him.
Then the queen started to babble happily about wedding preparations, and Teela gave her father a kiss on the cheek and went to sit down with her. They fell to talking about colors and flowers and Marlena's impressions of Delira and Romily. After awhile, Teela looked around and noticed that Adam, Dorgan, Randor and her father were on the other side of the room, clearly talking. Tilting her head, she turned back to the queen. "Is there something inherent in weddings that splits the genders into two groups?"
Marlena looked over at their menfolk and chuckled. "Sometimes I think so." She looked over again, as if to make sure nothing had changed. "So, Teela, how do you feel, really? This has been a big change, and if you're having any problems, it would be better to get them out into the open."
Teela smiled. "My father asked me the same thing. I'm fine, really."
"Do you feel any different?" she asked. Teela nodded, and the queen's eyes widened. She had clearly been expecting a different response. "How so?"
Taking in a deep breath, Teela let it out slowly. "I can feel him," she said.
"What?"
"I can feel him, where we're connected." The queen's stunned expression begged her to explain further. "I have a very good sense of where I start and end. After I had telepathy, I did some research, because I was afraid I might wind up with it again and I wanted to be prepared."
"I see."
"So I can sort of 'feel' him, who he is . . ." She looked over at Adam and sighed again. "If I hadn't loved him before, I don't know how I could avoid it now." She tore her eyes away from Adam, afraid that he might look up and wonder why she was staring at him. The queen took her hand and squeezed it, causing Teela to look up, surprised.
"Boys mature more slowly than girls," Marlena said confidentially. "And he's hardly in a state to know his own mind now. But if you need to talk, or to have a cry, just come and find me."
Teela smiled at her. "I'll remember," she said.
When dinner appeared on the table, the men got up from their far corner and came to sit down at the table. Teela reached out to squeeze her father's hand as he sat down, but he froze and stood up sharply. "I have to – I have to go."
"What is it?" Teela asked, startled. "Has something happened?"
"I don't know yet, but Mekanek's outside asking for me. I'd better –"
The king rose, too. "I'll come with you," he said. Adam's eyes widened in alarm and she reached over to take his hand, shifting so that she was sitting right next to him.
"He'll be back soon," she said. Glancing up at the king, she added, "Right?"
"Of course," he replied. He squeezed Adam's shoulder. "I'll be back within the half hour."
Adam nodded, but she could feel his hand trembling slightly. The queen looked up toward the ceiling, and dinner vanished. "We'll eat when you get back, Randor. Children, why don't we move to more comfortable seating?" Dorgan got up and walked over to sit in a chair.
Teela got Adam to stand up and come with her to the sofa as the king and her father left. She wondered what had come up that had brought Mekanek all they way to the castle to drag her father out. Resolutely, however, she turned her thoughts aside, to avoid worrying and possibly passing it on to Adam.
Duncan strode up to the open drawbridge with Randor close behind him. Mekanek was waiting just outside the castle, pacing uneasily. When he saw them, he stopped. "Your highness, Man-at-Arms, we have a bit of a situation."
"What is it?" Randor asked urgently.
Mekanek grimaced. "Three young men have been found dead in Eternos City, ranging in age from eighteen to twenty-three. They all died today."
Duncan felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his stomach and Randor stood like he was stunned. His eyes were wide and he looked utterly horrified. "Three?" he breathed. "And . . . it's her?"
Mekanek nodded grimly. "The constables had orders to report any deaths to the palace so we could evaluate them, and none of these three have a mark on them." His lips were tight. "They were all found naked in hostel rooms. We had Orko check them out, and he's hysterical now. We had to hand him over to Ram-Man to calm him down. It was her."
Randor turned suddenly and slammed his fist into the side of the gateway, which made both the others jump. "Sire, did you –" Duncan started, but the king shook his head, waving him away.
"What do we know?" he asked, rubbing the maltreated hand with the other. "Was she seen?"
Mekanek nodded. "Two of the men were seen with a woman when they took the hostel rooms. She's described as blond, slender and very young. I've got people canvassing the city now, trying to find anyone else who might have seen her."
"But –" Randor started, shaking his head. "How – why –"
"Illusion," said a voice from behind them, very somber. The Sorceress walked into view. "She must have cast an illusion on herself to avoid the searchers."
"Damn!" Randor growled. "Three men dead . . . and we're no nearer to locating her! What was she doing?"
"Gathering power," the Sorceress said. "She must be planning something serious to take so bold a step."
"I had better go back to the capital, sire," Duncan said. "To take charge of the investigation."
Randor nodded. "Make sure to find out if there are any missing boys. She may have taken new captives as well."
Duncan shuddered, but only said, "Right."
"I am not looking forward to telling Adam about this," Randor said, his eyes very grave.
From Mekanek's expression, he had already thought of that problem, but it hit Duncan in the gut. Nevertheless the boy had to know. If he was returning to the capital within a few days, he had to know what was going on.
"Randor, I think we'd better go," Duncan said, reaching out and gripping his friend's arm.
"Yes, go," the king said. "And be very careful, both of you."
Duncan nodded, and Mekanek saluted his king, and they left swiftly.
Randor turned after his men left to find that the Sorceress was gliding away. He walked after her and said, "Sorceress?"
She turned, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Yes, your highness?"
"Just how secure is this binding spell?" he asked. "Is it really strong enough to hold against her?"
Her eyes warmed with sympathy. "There is no known way to break past a binding spell. It has been attempted on many occasions, but never successfully."
"Even this sexual thing?" he asked, though the words caught in his throat.
The regal woman shook her head. "If she were to try that now, all she would get is the power created by the union itself. She would get no real benefit, for any normal man would give her more energy. She cannot even drain his life force, for that is integral with the power of being a well."
Randor closed his eyes. "But she can't know that, can she? She won't know that unless we find some way to tell her or she tests it herself."
"She may not understand it in any case," the Sorceress said. "It is clear that she is not aware of the binding ritual, or she would already have cast it. She may not even realize that he is a well, just that he has enormous energy that replenishes with amazing rapidity."
"It's enough," Randor growled. "It's more than enough that she knows that."
"I know, Randor," the Sorceress said. "I would give anything to have been able to prevent this."
"Time can't be turned back," he said. "And speaking of time, I had better go back up to Adam. He's expecting me to return quickly."
"Good night, King Randor."
"Good night, Sorceress."
He went quickly back to the suite to find that Adam was curled up next to Teela on the sofa. She had her arms around him and an oddly maternal look on her face. The grimness in his expression must have alerted them all to trouble, because Marlena leaned forward and Dorgan's eyes grew very intent. Adam sat up straight, pulling just slightly away from Teela.
As Randor crossed toward them, he could see Teela gripping Adam's hand very tightly, her other arm draped protectively around his shoulders, and it was clear that her touch no longer caused him distress. Their eyes, all four pairs, were fixed on his face as he sat heavily in the chair across from his son.
"Dad? What is it?" Adam asked.
"Three men have been found dead in the city," he said. "They had Orko check, and all three of them were killed by Daviona."
Adam's face went white with shock and his body went rigid. Teela was clearly caught between her own horrified reaction and wanting to soothe Adam, but the boy leaned ever so slightly toward his father. Randor leapt up, crossing to his side in two steps.
"Three men?" Adam said in a soft, desolate voice. "She killed three more men?" Randor put his arm around his son as the boy leaned close against him, his whole body trembling with tension. "Today?"
"Yes," Randor said. He looked up to meet Marlena's eyes. His queen looked as devastated as he felt. Dorgan's expression was completely blank. "They're between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three," he added.
"Why?" Teela demanded, her tone resonating with helpless fury. "Why is she doing this?"
Adam spoke tonelessly, still pressing himself close against Randor's side. "She has a plan. She must. She has something she needs lots of power for. Probably something to do with me."
Randor closed his eyes at the hopelessness implied by Adam's lack of intonation. "She can't succeed. We've seen to that."
"She can't drain me," Adam agreed, burrowing in even deeper. "So did Duncan go to take charge of things?"
"Yes," Randor said. "He'll probably be back in the morning to report what has been learned."
"So, does this mean we won't be going back when we'd planned?" Adam asked, and Randor could hear the disappointment in his tone.
"No, surely not," Marlena said. "We were only here to keep her from draining you at a distance. Now that the threat of that has been lifted . . ."
"And the final treatment," Dorgan said. "Orko will most certainly require the Sorceress' aid for that, but it's ready now."
Randor nodded. "We'll be heading home as planned. Orko will perform the final treatment tomorrow, we'll take a day for you to rest, and then return home the following day."
"That soon?" Adam exclaimed, gazing up at him. "I – I –" He shook his head. "And the wedding?"
"A week from tomorrow," his mother said. Teela made a little squeak of indrawn breath. "And the preparations will be just in time."
"A wedding will be nice," Adam said. "We can all do something with a positive goal." He reached out and pulled Teela close while remaining pressed against Randor.
"That's my thinking exactly," Marlena said, smiling. Her husband could see amusement lurking behind her eyes that she wouldn't share. She wouldn't want to embarrass the children. There was still space beside him on the sofa, on the other side from Adam, and he held out his hand for her. She came across and joined them.
Dorgan was watching them all with affectionate amusement.
Jeclarren cried until every last bit of energy had gone from his spirit. Hours, it felt like, but he wasn't sure. Time passed oddly here in this cell. Finally, he dried up and tried to pull back from Sanviro, to curl into a ball and try not to feel.
Sanviro wasn't having any of it, however. "You need to eat, Jeclarren." He shook his head, but Sanviro pulled him to his feet and walked him back to his chair. "Look, it's still good, even if it is cold. Sausages and biscuits."
The food made Jeclarren slightly nauseated. "I don't want food," he said. "I want to . . . I want . . . I don't know what I want."
"You want out of here," Sanviro said gently. "You want to come live in Yalin with me, and maybe we can find something approaching a normal life there."
"I can't have a normal life. I'm . . . I'm tainted."
Sanviro's eyes widened. "What? What about me?"
Jeclarren looked up at him blankly. "You aren't glad she's out there killing somebody, are you?"
"Are you? Really?" Sanviro asked.
"Not now, but there was a brief moment –"
Sanviro gripped his arm firmly. "You were glad it wasn't going to be one of us. You weren't glad that a stranger was going to die."
"I knew she was going out to kill someone, and I was glad, Sanviro. You don't understand. I was glad that, if she was going to kill someone, it was someone else."
"You're right," Sanviro said. "I don't understand. But my brother is unhappy, and that is enough for me. If you won't eat, I won't eat."
"Don't be ridiculous, Sanviro," Jeclarren said. "I'm feeling sick at my stomach. There's no reason for you not to eat because I feel ill."
"You're ill?" Sanviro asked in some alarm. "What's wrong? Do you –"
"No, I'm not ill. I feel sick to my stomach, but it's not an illness."
Sanviro cut off a small section of sausage. "You will feel better with food in your stomach. Here, just take a little piece. If your stomach reacts badly, you don't have to have any more."
Jeclarren looked at the food and turned his head away. "I don't want –" Opening his mouth had been a mistake. Sanviro popped the morsel into his mouth, giving him the choice of spitting it out or swallowing it.
He chewed and swallowed, and his stomach seemed to accept the food gratefully. "So, do you feel worse?" Sanviro asked.
Jeclarren shook his head and reached out for his silverware. With Sanviro refusing to eat unless he did, he didn't have much choice. They finished breakfast in silence and then Jeclarren sat, staring at the plate. Sanviro didn't understand . . . couldn't understand . . . maybe that meant that he was being stupid to feel this way. He couldn't help it, though.
Sanviro cleared away the dishes, and Jeclarren put his head down on his folded arms. His companion appeared right at his elbow and chivvied him to his feet. "We both need exercise. We're both used to physical activity, and we're not getting enough."
He followed Sanviro's instructions, unable to marshal himself sufficiently to refuse. When they were both sweating, Sanviro insisted that they take baths and then eat lunch. Afterwards, Jeclarren started to go towards the bed, to nap, but Sanviro pushed him into playing a game of chess with him, and basically kept him busy all day.
Sanviro was just clearing away the dishes from dinner when a woman's face appeared at the door. She was very pretty, with fine features and pale blond hair, and looked about twenty. He blinked, then started to his feet. "Who –"
She gave him a perplexed look, then grinned. "I forgot," she said. It was baffling. The facial expression looked utterly familiar, but the face and voice were not. Then the figure's features shifted slowly. Her hair thickened, darkened and curled, and her face took on the familiar, hated shape of Daviona's. He grimaced, and she laughed at his expression. "Did you think that rescue had come, somehow?" she asked.
He turned his back on her, unable to face her. "Did you kill someone?" Sanviro asked.
"Never you mind, sweet thing," she said, her voice almost a caress. "You need only concern yourself with what's asked of you."
Sanviro didn't seem satisfied. "Did you? Did you kill someone?"
She laughed and said, "Sleep well, my pets." Then Jeclarren could hear her footsteps moving away. He was shaking with rage, with blind, helpless fury. He wanted to kill something, someone, he wanted out!
He heard a grunt and turned to see that Sanviro had punched the wall very hard. He rushed across to his friend's side. "Don't do that!" he exclaimed as the other man cradled his fist. "She deserves to die, but there's no point in hurting yourself."
"We still don't know if she killed anyone," Sanviro said with a grimace.
"Yes, we do," Jeclarren said flatly.
"What do you mean?"
"She was in a very good mood, very energized," Jeclarren said. "She killed someone and drained his energy." He shuddered. "Or maybe I should say she drained someone and killed him."
"She's evil, and mad, and should be put down!" Sanviro growled.
"I know," Jeclarren said. "But there's nothing we can do." He looked back toward the window and wished that she would just die out there. Then he grimaced again. Now he was wishing for their deaths as well. What's wrong with me?
