Chapter 49
They sat, the four of them, on the sofa, offering one another comfort until dinner arrived again. Randor didn't feel particularly hungry, in fact he doubted that any of them did, but they all needed to eat. Dorgan emerged from his room where he'd retreated after awhile and said, "Time for dinner."
Randor shifted forward and pulled Adam to his feet. "Yes, let's eat." There wasn't much talking while they ate. Adam stayed close to him and seemed also to want Teela nearby. When they finished dinner, Adam was nearly falling asleep in his plate, but he refused to go to bed. Within minutes of their moving to the couch, though, he was fast asleep.
His face was untroubled and quiet, and Randor smiled down at him. "I guess I'd better put him to bed," he said quietly.
"I'll stay with him," Teela said, jumping up instantly and Randor raised an eyebrow.
"All right," he said. "Call me if you need me." He caught and held her eyes, wanting to impress upon her that she shouldn't try too hard to manage on her own. She seemed to already have the message that Adam's needs were more important than anything else, however, for she met his eyes with out any discomposure whatsoever.
Teela disappeared into the bathing chamber while he removed Adam's clothing. Marlena had come in with him and she helped him get the boy into his nightshirt. She kissed him, then went out again as Randor tucked his son into bed very tenderly. Cringer jumped up on the bed and arranged himself at Adam's feet. Teela emerged a moment later clad in her pajamas. She climbed in next to Adam and picked up a book. Instantly, Adam shifted so that his head was against her leg. Randor smiled at the pair of them even though he was quaking inside. His son was too young, Teela was too young, to have this sort of a relationship forced on them.
Teela had bound her hair into a soft braid for bed and he reached out to tug the end of it. "Good night. I'll be in the sitting room if you need me."
"Good night, Uncle Randor," she said.
He went back out into the sitting room to find Marlena and Dorgan talking quietly. He heard the edges of their conversation, though, and was amused. She was demanding that he consent to be fitted for new formal garments for the wedding. "I have a very suitable outfit already," he said. "I don't need anything new."
Marlena looked very frustrated. "But Dorgan, your wife is getting something new, and it would be lovely if the two of you matched. This is a royal wedding, Dorgan, the first real one we've ever had in Eternia since the ancient line of kings died out."
"I seem to recall a wedding between the two of you," the healer said, gesturing towards Randor. They both looked up at him, Dorgan with the clear belief that any man would sympathize with another's desire for simplicity in clothing, Marlena with the clear expectation that he would support her in her quest to have the Eternian chief healer clad in sartorial splendor for their son's wedding.
He raised his hands. "I have no opinion on this subject. You two will have to hash it out on your own."
Marlena narrowed her eyes briefly, but then laughed. "Oh, don't worry, we will. And if I don't get what I want myself, I have a feeling Alysa will help me."
Dorgan's expression grew irate. "Now that's not fair, getting a man's wife to conspire with you against him."
"I'm not conspiring," Marlena said, laughing again. "I'm simply determined to have everyone look their best at Adam's wedding. It will be such a small affair that I'd like it to be as splendid as possible. Something that those who attend it will remember as a grand event, rather than a hurried affair."
Randor tilted his head and sat down next to her, taking her hand. "Sweetheart, are you thinking back with disappointment on our own wedding?"
"No, of course not!" Marlena exclaimed, turning to him, but he could see in her eyes that she was. Their wedding had been hurried, and they hadn't had either time or money to create a beautiful event. Randor had been king for less than six months, there was no capital as of yet, and there were more than a few among the populace, noble and common alike, who weren't sure they wanted a king in place of the Council of Elders. A marriage was essential, to provide heirs and a sense that Randor was taking his duties as king seriously. Further, a married man offers an impression of stability and permanence that a bachelor does not.
Still, perhaps he should have found a way to make the occasion more magnificent.
"Randor," she said, catching his face between her hands. "I am not upset about our wedding. It was what it had to be at the time, and I love you, which is all that really matters. But there are several reasons why Adam's wedding can't be like ours was." He nodded expectantly and she went on. "For one, we are no longer living in the middle of an army camp. For another, this will look less like a dire emergency if we don't do a bare bones wedding. People are already going to think that we have concerns regarding whether Adam will survive the year and that's why we're marrying them so quickly, we don't need to add to that by seeming less than concerned about appearances."
"True enough," Randor said. "Though I don't think we're going to have a chance of persuading people that this isn't a dire emergency." He shrugged unhappily "It is, but since we can't tell them what the emergency actually is, they're bound to fill in the details for themselves."
"Nevertheless, we need to put the best face possible on it," Marlena said firmly. "Further, Teela and Adam are going to look back on this day from fifty years in the future, and they should know that we did everything we could to make things as perfect as possible."
Randor nodded his agreement. "I agree, my dear."
"And that's why I want to have everyone turned out in the best possible garments we can provide."
Dorgan sighed, and Randor recognized the sound. It was the 'I've just lost the argument, but I don't have to like it' sigh that all men learn after being married for awhile. "Very well, your highness. When you put it like that, I don't have a leg to stand on."
Marlena smiled sweetly at him, ever gracious in victory. "Thank you, Dorgan."
Randor cleared his throat. "Now, I've got a question, before we get back onto wedding issues."
"What's that?" Marlena asked.
Randor bit his lip, considering how best to phrase it. "Dorgan, after this drug is out of Adam's system, is that going to affect the dependency he's been showing towards me?"
Dorgan's face went abruptly from amused resignation to concern. "No," he said. "I very much doubt there will be any immediate effect. A large part of what the drug did was open the door to allow the relationship to exist. It also made him very vulnerable to changes in it, and that will lessen as time goes by, but the relationship is now set firmly in his psyche."
"Are you saying that Adam will always be this dependent on his father?" Marlena asked.
"No, gradually he should become more independent again, but I suspect he will always seek out Randor in times of stress."
Marlena nodded pensively and Randor glanced over at the doorway. "I won't be around forever," he said. "Will that also gradually lessen?"
"To some degree, but this is pretty powerful stuff. Not just the drug, but the emotions behind it." Dorgan smiled sadly at the pair of them. "Let me put it this way, she gave Adam a drug that would theoretically have made him vulnerable to her – would have enabled her to create in him a dependence on her, a woman he detested and was frightened of. The first person he saw under that influence was his father, a man he loves, trusts and admires. Thus the bond is quite probably considerably stronger than anything she could have created."
"What does that mean?" Marlena asked.
"We'll know better as time goes by," Dorgan said. "We're going to have to find someone that Adam can talk to about his experiences, someone to help him get past this incredible trauma. We'll be able to assess the extent of his dependence as that therapy goes forward."
"Right," Randor said. "He keeps saying that he feels as if Daviona has taken, in addition to all the harm she has done, huge chunks of time out of his life, all the time it's going to take him to recover."
"Isn't that the truth," Dorgan said bitterly. "And we still haven't worked out how to deactivate that damned spell."
"Well, I'm going to bed," Marlena said quietly. "Tomorrow may be a busy day."
Randor stood up with her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Good night, Dorgan," he said.
Dorgan nodded absently, rising as well and going off into his bedroom. Randor and Marlena went into the other bedroom, where Teela was now sleeping with her head pillowed on Adam's shoulder. Cringer was lying on both their feet, and Randor smiled.
"They're very sweet, aren't they?" he asked.
Marlena nodded, sighing, as she pulled away to go over and change into her nightclothes. Randor went into the bathing chamber to change as well, thinking that he didn't want Teela to see him changing if she awoke. When he emerged, Marlena was lying on the empty bed, alone and looking unhappy. He walked around and crawled in behind her, putting his arms around her waist. "I love you."
She turned her head. "I thought you'd – with Adam – I –"
"We're here, in reach, and he's got both Teela and Cringer. He'll be fine, my love."
Marlena turned in his arms. "I don't begrudge either of you the attention you're getting from each other, but –"
He kissed her lightly on the lips, interrupting her. "But you feel left out. That's perfectly understandable."
"I love you, Randor."
He cuddled her close and they fell asleep.
Duncan walked out of the third crime scene, sickened by what he had seen. While Mekanek had come to fetch him, more information had been discovered about the victims. She had not done so good a job today at finding young men who had no connections. The eldest of the three had a wife who was utterly devastated to find that her husband had been killed by a woman while he was in bed with her.
Stratos had explained to her that the woman was a wizardess and that she had undoubtedly ensorceled him, but she had a small child and another on the way, which meant that they were going to have to find some funds to help support her. The youngest man was the fourth of five brothers, and all four of the remaining boys were livid. The other man, a tinker of twenty-one, seemed to be alone in the world, but then so had Jeclarren and that had proven false.
Duncan shook his head. "What else do we know yet?" he asked.
"Not much," Buzz Off said. "I followed her scent out to the edge of the city. There it simply vanished. When Orko was better, he came out to check with me and there was evidence of some sort of portal."
"We have had people out to question shopowners and the like," Stratos said. "But most shops are closed at this hour, so we have had little luck."
"We'll learn more tomorrow," Duncan said. "How is Orko?"
"He returned to the palace with Ram-Man," Buzz Off said. "He was very shaken by the crime sites. I don't know what it was he saw, and I'm pretty sure that I don't want to."
"Probably not," Duncan said. He looked around at his team. "I think we'd better meet in the morning. There's not much more we can do tonight but deliver the bodies to the coroner." He looked back over his shoulder at the doorway into the room that contained the body of the tinker. There was one common denominator among the men she had chosen today. They were all extremely handsome fellows, very physically fit and trim.
Daviona clearly had a thing about physical beauty.
"The first body was discovered by the innkeeper's twelve-year-old daughter who went into the wrong room to deliver towels," Man-E-Faces said. "The news has been spreading like wildfire, for the child ran down to the taproom and gabbled it out. The second body was found, in fact, because the keeper of another inn got curious based on the story that was being passed in the streets and went upstairs to check on his customers."
"Hellfire," Duncan muttered.
Stratos put a hand on his arm and guided him away from the others a bit. "Man-at-Arms, I believe that we can manage the rest of what can be done tonight on our own. Perhaps you should get back to the palace."
"Right. Jenkins will need instructions. I'll see you all in the morning."
From Stratos' expression, that hadn't been what he'd had in mind, but Duncan just waved and started back towards his wind raider. As he passed through the dark streets to where he had left his vehicle, he tried not to think about those handsome young men meeting an apparently innocent young woman . . . and winding up dead.
He hated to think of Adam hearing this news. Duncan was terribly afraid that the boy would blame himself because they all knew what Daviona was seeking power for. Adam. Another attempt to secure Adam for herself.
He turned a corner into an alley that provided a shortcut from one street to the next. The night was unusually quiet, but the sounds of the city were there, just muted. No doubt it was an aftereffect of the horrors of the day. Just as he reached the halfway point of the alley, a wall of glowing lavender mist sprang up before him, rising to arc over the top of him.
Halting sharply, he stared up at the unexpected obstacle, then turned around in time to see a hand pull aside the darkness as one might a curtain, and Evil-Lyn stepped out into view.
His mouth went dry as he saw the lavender mist hit the ground four feet behind her, sealing them in. There were no windows in the walls that faced the alley, so no one would see anything unless they happened past either end of the alley. He raised his arm to activate his hand cannon, but nothing happened. He froze in shock.
Evil-Lyn let out a sardonic chuckle. "So eager to attack me, are you Duncan?" she asked.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, gesturing around at the glowing bubble. "What is this thing?"
"A spell I discovered only today," she said, smiling. "It's invisible from the outside and renders us invisible as well, thus reducing the chances that either a doomseeker or a wandering 'master' will catch sight of us, so we shouldn't be interrupted." He twitched his wrist again, almost reflexively, trying to activate his hand cannon again, but, again, nothing happened. She laughed. "And it disables technology as well," she added. "Calm yourself, Duncan, I merely want to talk."
He crossed his arms, glaring irritably at her. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"Such a friendly fellow you are," she said, her eyes narrowing. "I come with important news regarding Skeletor's plans. Do I take it you're not interested?" She raised a hand as if to dismiss her forcefield.
He grimaced. "Oddly, my first thought wasn't that you'd trapped me here for my benefit."
"Not your benefit, the boy's benefit," she said, lowering her hand and giving him a very level look. "Skeletor has discovered that he can bind a well to himself, and he's determined to obtain Adam."
Duncan gulped and then let out a sigh of relief, which seemed to surprise her. If Teela hadn't already figured this out, if they hadn't . . . the panic he would be feeling now . . .
"Don't you understand me?" Evil-Lyn demanded, glaring at him. "As I understand the spell, it creates a psychic link between the pair, something I am quite certain you don't want happening to your young prince."
"I do understand you," he said.
"You don't seem very worried," she replied, pursing her lips speculatively.
"Skeletor's not the only one capable of doing a bit of research," Duncan said, grinning at her startled expression. "What I don't understand is why you're telling me this. If Skeletor knew –"
"I'd be in deep trouble, but I've discovered that I have something of a conscience where certain things are concerned." She looked very disgruntled. "He still has every intention of acquiring Adam to use for his own ends, and –"
"If he can perform the binding, presumably," Duncan interrupted. "And there's no way he can do that at this point."
She shook her head. "The only way to prevent it is to . . ." She slowed, gazing at his expression. "You've already done it," she said with dawning realization. "He's already bound to someone else."
Duncan gave her a tight grin. "I can neither confirm nor deny the truth of that –"
"You fool! That will only help if Skeletor knows it!" she snapped. "If he still believes Adam to be up for the taking, he will make the attempt, and you may find yourselves trying to rescue a princess rather than a prince."
Duncan shook his head. "That's ludicrous. The binding means that sexual contact is –"
"Not required," she finished for him. "I know that, you know that and I am confident that Skeletor knows that. But he seems enamored of the idea." She shook her head. "There are things that are just wrong."
"But why?"
She scowled. "I think he's pleased by the thought of Randor's reaction to discovering that his son's a daughter, and He-Man's reaction to discovering that his lover has become a woman."
It took a moment. His mind was still filled with the image of how Randor might react confronted by a female Adam when the meaning of her second comment sank in. "Lover?" he exclaimed, his voice breaking in his shock. "You think Adam and He-Man are lovers?"
She tilted her head. "Are you certain they're not?" she asked, her eyes on his face.
"Dead certain," he said, a split second before he realized that she had lured him into making a solid statement of fact.
"So," she said, her voice a low, purring drawl, "either you're in denial or you have reason to believe otherwise."
He glared at her. "All of that is entirely beside the point!"
"Perhaps so, but it is another thing that Skeletor is convinced of, another idea that motivates him."
"Where does he get these ideas?" Duncan asked incredulously.
She shruggled, looking almost contemptuous of the Lord of Snake Mountain. "Not from me. I have a rational mind, thank you. Still, you're right, it's beside the point." He raised his eyebrows to suggest she come to the point. "Somehow, you have to let Skeletor know that he is already bound so that he knows it's useless to seize him."
Duncan rolled his eyes. "Sure, I'll just send him a note. Got some paper?" She made a rude noise at him and he shrugged. "Look, he's not going to believe anything we say. What do you suggest?"
"That you not be so fatuous," she snapped. "So the young prince's power is bound, is it? What, has the Sorceress seized on an opportunity to increase her power?"
Duncan glared at her. "I'm not giving you any information, Evil-Lyn. I appreciate your sharing Skeletor's plans with me, but that doesn't mean it's going to be mutual."
She crossed her arms, an ill humor settling over her features. "What if I said I wanted to share more with you?"
His eyebrows rose at this alarming suggestion. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't get any ideas, Duncan," she retorted, her eyes narrowing to slits. "What is it about men? Do they think everything is about sex?" He blinked, uncertain why she was ranting. "You're not my type, Duncan."
"No, you like them fleshless." The look she turned on him made him ashamed of himself. Having Evil-Lyn look at him like he was a particularly nasty slug that had just crawled out from under a rock was humbling. "Sorry, that was crass."
"Yes, it was," she drawled, her voice heavy with disdain. "You are very self-righteous, Duncan, and it gets old."
"It gets old?" he repeated. "How ludicrous can you get?"
"This all started as a political squabble between Keldor and the Elders, you know," she said, her eyes reflecting her thoughts. "And regardless of what you and stuffybeard think, there were some valid points on Keldor's side."
"And a lot of greed."
"That too," she admitted. "But that doesn't render the points invalid."
He shrugged. "I'm not sure what yours is," he said.
She cocked a hip aggressively and met his eyes. "My point is that twenty years ago there was a clear cut dispute with recognizable arguments, counter-arguments and motivations on both sides." Shaking her head, she shrugged. "Things aren't so simple now."
"Not that they were really simple then, but no, they have grown more complex."
"This doesn't come easily to me, Duncan," she said after a long pause. "But Keldor is dead. I have come to believe that he killed himself on that stair in the Hall of Wisdom with the acid he threw at Randor. In my desperation to save him, I created a monster in whom I can see less and less of the man I served twenty years ago."
Duncan stared at her in astonishment. "Are you saying –"
Evil-Lyn's expression was set in lines of pain. What color she had in her complexion had drained away, leaving her looking wan and startlingly young. "Never in Keldor's wildest flights of fancy would he have, first, suggested that I rape a sixteen-year-old boy to gain his power." Duncan stared at her, vaguely stunned by this frank admission. "Nor would he have decided to transform the boy so he could do it himself."
"You're sure of that?" Duncan asked.
Her eyes flashed with anger. "I knew him very well. He would never have considered such a course, particularly not when, as is the case now, he had another alternative for gaining the power." She shook her head. "Even assuming that he was so desperate for power that he would find it necessary to do so, discovering that sexual means weren't necessary would have decided him against it."
"You don't want the power Adam represents?" Duncan asked cautiously.
She grimaced. "I won't deny that the amount of power available from that boy was tempting when first I understood what the binding ritual would do, but the notion of creating an unwilling psychic bond is repugnant to me." She shuddered. "I'm a telepath, and while I have used the ability to lure the unwary into folly, I have never forced rapport and never will. It's a form of mental rape, and I won't be party to rape."
"You already have been," Duncan said, gazing at her unblinkingly.
"I beg your pardon?" she growled, her back straightening. "I never –"
"You helped prepare Adam for that auction," he said, his words full of bitter acrimony. "You helped to sell him to that bitch. You are party to everything that happened to him at her hands." Evil-Lyn took a step back, looking utterly stunned. He followed up his advantage. "She wasn't the only one with rape on her mind, you know. At least one of the men planned to use him that way first and then kill him."
She was shaking her head, clearly horrified. "I didn't . . . I wouldn't . . ."
"You did," he said, his voice flat. "Not thinking it through doesn't make you less culpable. In fact, given this attitude you're revealing now, I rather think it makes you more culpable."
She seemed to be gazing at some unpleasant inner vista, and he wondered what she was thinking. He expected her to leave, to flee his condemnation, but to his surprise she straightened after several moments. "You're right," she said levelly, "it does." With that admission, and the fact that it genuinely seemed to come from the heart, she gained some grudging respect from him. "Which only strengthens my resolve. I don't believe that was in Skeletor's mind when he planned the auction." Duncan snorted derisively, and her eyes gleamed with ire. Her voice grew louder. "But I do know how he and all the other idiots have reacted since then. One of the chief reasons Skeletor gives for thinking Adam to be homosexual is that he reacted so negatively to Daviona's treatment of him."
Duncan raised an eyebrow. "Your resolve to do what?" he asked.
She straightened and met his gaze levelly. "Offer my services to you."
He stared at her incredulously for a moment. "You want to what?"
"The oaths I swore to Keldor are void with his death," she said, her chin rising. "And I certainly never swore to help him alter an innocent child's gender to make raping him more palatable."
Duncan didn't know what to think, though that last statement felt like a punch in the gut. "What do you want to do for us?"
"Well, for the moment I could continue to spy within Snake Mountain, and bring you information."
He really had no idea what to say. He didn't know how Randor would react. He narrowed his eyes. "How much of what Raon told you did you pass on to Skeletor?"
Her eyes widened slightly, but she sighed, seeming almost abashed. "Too much, I'm afraid. That's what's led to this fascination. He's been studying for weeks, trying to find some way to turn it to his advantage."
Hence the dreams Teela'd had, Duncan thought with some surprise. He grimaced. "Quite frankly, I don't know how Randor will react to this," he said. "He'll want to know why now – why you didn't break away from Skeletor sooner."
"It's taken me this long to accept that Keldor is truly gone," she replied. "For a time I hoped that he would eventually recover his wits. There have been occasional moments since . . ." She shook her head. "But it's clear now that he's never coming back. I'm not sure how much of his spirit remains, but something else came out of Despondos to take control."
"Despondos?" he repeated, horror-struck. "What in Eternia does Despondos have to do with this?"
She blanched and looked down at the ground. "I was desperate," she said. "He was dying and I knew there was a way to save him." Her violet eyes rose to his with appalling candor. "I would have done anything for him."
Duncan felt very much out of his depth. He didn't know what to say, how to respond. The silence that followed her heartfelt . . . he didn't know what to call it. It was neither a plea nor a defense. But the silence dragged on for several minutes. Finally he cleared his throat. "I will take this to Randor," he said. "But we should set up a time to meet."
She shook her head. "I don't want Stuffybeard involved with this," she said.
Duncan pursed his lips. "He's my liege lord, I can't keep something of this magnitude from him."
"Do you tell him everything?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. He controlled his reaction rigidly, not letting anything show. She couldn't know how closely that question struck home. The secret of He-Man would kill Randor if he ever found out. Unaware of the turmoil she had caused in Duncan's heart, she went on. "You are of a far more practical bent than he is. Surely there are decisions that you make that aren't for his ears."
"Even if there were, this couldn't be one of them," Duncan said. "You have been on the other side too long."
"Fine," she said with ill grace. "I accept your reasoning."
"So I will put this to Randor."
She glowered. "You might tell Stuffybeard that if he declines to have my information from Snake Mountain, he will not have another opportunity."
"What do you mean?" Duncan asked suspiciously.
"If I can be of no use to you there, I will leave, at which point Skeletor will be less than pleased with me, and will not likely welcome me again, certainly not on the same terms."
He blinked at her in stupefaction. "Where would you go?" he asked.
"I hardly think that's any of your business," she said archly. "But suffice to say, anyone on Skeletor's crew with any sense has a fall back position."
"What do you hope to gain from helping us?" Duncan asked.
She raised her eyebrow. "What do you think?" she replied. "A full pardon."
He nodded, unsurprised. "I will put it to Randor in the morning."
"Where can I meet you to get news, and when? You have been dashing about like a madman today."
He sighed. It had been a full day, of that there was no doubt. Tomorrow would not be less full. "I don't know," he replied. "When can you get away?"
"You can safely trust that I will find a way whenever you are available."
"I will endeavor to be in this spot tomorrow night at ten, but I can't guarantee it."
She nodded. "If you can't, then try for the next night."
"Agreed."
"Now I must go. I will be missed." He watched in silence as she drew a bit of shadow around herself. As soon as she was out of sight, the magical shield dissipated. Duncan stayed where he was for a moment, pondering what he had learned.
He went to the palace and spoke to Jenkins, then returned to Grayskull. The drawbridge opened for him and the light led him to the suite where he lay down on the sofa in the central room. There he lay sleepless for some hours, wishing for simpler times.
Author's note: Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I misplaced the edits I'd done on paper, and that stressed me out. Please enjoy, and I will try to keep up a little more consistently again.
