Wow . . . Chapter 50. Seems like a moment for celebration. Woot! Imaginary party streamers. Enjoy -- there's quite a lot left to go. Oh, and don't forget to tell me what you think. Feedback is love, and love makes me write more.
Chapter 50
Deep in the night, Adam woke up in an exceedingly odd position. He was lying at an angle on the bed, one of his arms across Teela's shoulders, but Cringer was lying between them from about rib-level on down. It seemed as if, during the night, the cat had wormed his way between them, forcing them apart.
The prince rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Then he realized abruptly that there was someone missing from the bed and sat up. The light of the moons illuminated the room dimly. His mother and father lay on the other bed, cuddled up close together.
He got up and went to the privy, then looked at both beds thoughtfully when he came back out. Crawling onto the one that held his parents, he took a note out of Cringer's book and slid in between them, very gently. Still sleeping, they made room for him and he settled with his father on one side and his mother on the other. Feeling very safe, he fell asleep.
Randor awoke with the sun shining in his eyes. He had not slept in this part of the room before, and he had not anticipated the sun coming in the window at quite that angle. He turned his head, blinking blearily and saw Adam's blond hair spread across the pillow beside him. Marlena was curled up beyond their son. He disengaged himself from the blankets with care and looked over at the other bed where Teela was curled up with Cringer.
He slipped out of the bed and went to the privy. When he emerged, the others were all still asleep. He walked across to the sitting room door and opened it. Dorgan wasn't out there, but Duncan sat on the sofa, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Randor shut the door behind him quietly and crossed to his friend. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he said, "What news, Duncan?"
Heaving a great sigh, the man-at-arms looked up. "There are three men dead at Daviona's hand, and we are no nearer to finding her."
Randor grimaced and sat down opposite his friend. "So no change from last night?"
"No, there's a remarkable change, actually," Duncan said. "But I'm not sure what to make of it, I doubt you'll fare any better."
"What are you talking about?"
"Evil-Lyn came and found me again last night, after I'd investigated the deaths."
Randor half rose in alarm. "Did she harm you? Cast any spells on you?"
Duncan shook his head. "No, nothing of the kind. She was warning me again. Apparently Skeletor has discovered that binding spell, so it's a good thing we acted when we did."
"By the Elders," Randor murmured.
"But that's not all. She . . ." He shook his head. "I believe she was in love with Keldor, sire. I thought so twenty years ago, and I still do."
"Was in love?" Randor repeated. "You mean you don't think she is any longer?"
"No, I think she still loves Keldor . . . but she informed me last night that Keldor is dead, and has been since that acid hit him during our final battle."
Randor stared at him, then shook his head. "I beg to differ. I have scars to prove it."
"That was not Keldor, that was Skeletor."
"I fail to see the difference."
Duncan took a deep breath. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days. "Apparently Evil-Lyn was the one who performed the spell that kept him alive."
Randor nodded slowly, not at all sure where this was leading. "I always assumed that was the case."
"Well, I gather she undertook the spell she chose out of desperation, and wasn't really completely aware of what the results would be. It's taken her this long to fully accept that she didn't bring Keldor back but put something else in his place."
"You speak as if you believe her," Randor said pensively. Duncan flushed. "Do you?"
"She was persuasive," he said. "And she . . ." He bit his lip. "She called on the power of Despondos to save him."
"Despondos?!" Randor exclaimed, appalled. "Was she utterly mad?"
"She was desperate, she said," Duncan replied. "And she would have done anything for him. Those were her words."
Randor leaned back in his chair. "That's astonishing," he said. "Why did she share all this with you? It seems uncharacteristic."
Duncan nodded. "She has . . . she's become disaffected. Apparently Skeletor asked her to . . ." He grimaced and looked at the shut door. "He asked her to rape Adam."
Randor exclaimed profanely and glanced at the door himself to make sure it was closed. "I don't understand."
"She told me she would not be party to rape. You should have seen her face when I told her that she already had been. Evidently she hadn't thought through the consequences of the auction, but when she had, she . . ." He shook his head. "She accepted her culpability. And she seems very disturbed by the notion of Skeletor transforming Adam into a girl."
"But he wouldn't need to," Randor said. "Not with the binding ritual."
"She said he didn't seem to care, that he liked the idea of disturbing you." He edited out the remarks about He-Man as irrelevant. Randor scowled. "She also said that none of the oaths she took to Keldor required her 'to help him alter an innocent child's gender to make raping him more palatable.'"
The words were powerful as Duncan had clearly known they would be. "So what was the point of all this communication?"
"She wants to offer her services as a spy within Snake Mountain," Duncan replied. "In return for a full pardon."
"You must be joking!" Randor exclaimed. "After all that she's done, after what she did to Raon – did she confess that deed?"
Duncan nodded. "She also said she thought she'd told Skeletor too much of what Raon told her, and that's what caused his present interest in Adam."
"Yet she expects me to pardon her in return for . . . what, a few paltry intelligences?"
Duncan grimaced, seeming ill at ease. "I know, sire, but . . . it might not be paltry, and her help could be invaluable."
"How so?" Randor asked. "And why are you pleading her case?"
"I'm not," Duncan replied, sitting a little straighter. "I'm doing my job by pointing out the possible benefits of such an arrangement."
"Did she say anything else?"
"Yes, sire. She said that if you don't take her up on it, she will leave Skeletor, which will effectively remove any chance we have of gaining intelligence in that manner."
This startled Randor so much that he didn't know what to say. He blinked for a few seconds, then said, "Do you think she's serious?"
"I do, sire," Duncan said. "When she acknowledged that she had a part in the blame for what happened to Adam with Daviona, she added that she knew Skeletor felt no such blame, which only stiffened her resolve to break away from him."
Randor shook his head. "I do not understand this. Why now? Why at this time?"
"I don't know, sire." Duncan appeared to be casting around for something more to say. "I think she also finds the idea of the binding spell done on an unwilling well disturbing in the extreme. As a telepath, I think it comes home more fully to her than it might to us."
This was an idea that Randor hadn't considered. As a telepath she might indeed have a more intense reaction. "What does she offer in earnest of her intentions?" he asked.
"Well, she has been telling us of Skeletor's desire for Adam, his plans . . ."
"No details of significance," Randor replied. "Nothing that could help us stop him."
Duncan blinked. "Then shall I ask her tomorrow night what she offers us right now?"
"Yes." Then the meaning of Duncan's words sank in. "Have you got an arranged meeting place and time?" he asked.
"Yes, sire," he said.
"Has it occurred to you that it might be a trap?"
"Of course," Duncan replied. "I –"
The door opened and a yawning Adam emerged. "Dad, there you are," he said, sounding less frantic than he had in the past, but Randor couldn't help wondering how he would have reacted if he hadn't found him. He walked over and sat down on the arm of the chair. "Did the sun wake you?"
Randor put an arm around his son's waist. "Yes, actually. Is your mother still asleep."
"She's got her face buried in a pillow," Adam said. "And Teela is dead to the world." He looked over at Duncan, and his eyes widened. "You look awful. How bad was it last night?"
"Bad enough," Man-at-Arms replied, his face grim. Randor looked up at Adam with concern, but he was calmer than he'd expected. "And we're no closer to finding her, Adam, I'm sorry."
Adam looked disappointed, but he sighed philosophically. "She's smart, and she's been successful in avoiding notice for more than four hundred years. We shouldn't be surprised that she's a little hard to locate."
"No, I suppose not, my prince," Duncan said. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Better than I have in awhile," Adam replied, sounding somewhat startled. "We're doing that treatment today, and I still have no idea what it entails, but . . ." He shook his head. "Teela . . . I thought for so long that she hated me, but . . ." He trailed off and Randor wondered just what it was he was getting from the girl.
Whatever it was, he was all for it if it made Adam feel this much better.
"I wonder if she's sleeping late," Adam said suddenly, looking sort of vaguely upwards.
"Who?" Duncan asked in the midst of a huge yawn.
"I'd rather not say, it might wake her," Adam replied with a slight grin.
Duncan closed his mouth rather abruptly and blinked. "Oh, of course," he said. "I suppose anything is possible."
"I was just wondering about breakfast," Adam added, rising. "But I think there's some fruit on the table still."
Randor was watching his adolescent son with amused fondness as he searched out whatever food might be available in the sitting room when the shields came up around the castle. Duncan and he leapt to their feet instantly, but Adam was closer to the windows. He ran towards the openings and Randor followed after, pulling him away from any possible threat.
"Father?!" Adam exclaimed, clearly objecting to Randor's protective gesture.
"Do you see anything, Duncan?"
"I don't."
The shields went down and Randor felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Why had the shields come up? Why had they gone down? He was afraid to call on the Sorceress for fear of distracting her from some protective effort.
Adam was trying to pull away from Randor's restraining arm. "Father, I don't see any sign of –"
"There is no threat," the Sorceress said. "It was Orko."
Dorgan came out of his room at a rapid pace and went out the door. Adam had relaxed his struggles, now he looked up and said, "What's wrong, Sorceress?" he asked.
There was a brief pause during which Marlena and Teela came out of the bedroom. Cringer ran to the door and scratched. The Sorceress spoke again. "He attempted to enter the castle without permission. Unfortunately, the frequent attacks of late have raised the castle's defenses to a higher than usual level, and the shields knocked him senseless."
"Is he all right?" Adam asked worriedly.
"I believe he is," the Sorceress said, "but I have sent Dorgan down to check."
"I should go," Adam said. "I should check on him."
"You should stay here," Marlena said, crossing to him. "Dorgan will bring him here."
Adam assented unhappily, and when breakfast appeared a moment later, he looked at it without interest. Teela walked across to his side. "Come eat, Adam. Orko will be fine."
He smiled at her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I don't think I'll be able to eat until I know that for certain," he said softly.
She threaded her arm around his waist and they waited. Marlena put her arm around Randor's waist, and he mirrored Adam's position with a smile for his wife. She was watching their son. "He's so young, and so is she," she said quietly, "but they do seem right together in some indefinable way."
"Yes, they do," he replied. "I just wish things could happen between them at a more natural pace."
"I know, so do I."
A moment later, Orko came whizzing into the room. "Sorry, I didn't mean to alarm everybody," he exclaimed. Dorgan followed him looking saturnine.
"You're okay," Adam said, grinning his relief.
Orko nodded. "I am, and I'm ready for your treatment as soon as the Sorceress can get here." Randor squeezed Marlena's shoulders. The final treatment. She responded in kind.
As Adam and Orko began to talk comfortably, Randor glanced at Duncan and recalled their earlier conversation. He would as soon have Marlena's opinion on the subject, but he didn't want it discussed in front of Adam. After several seconds, Duncan seemed to feel his eyes on him and turned. He caught Randor's mood and walked toward him.
Randor squeezed Marlena's shoulders again and looked down. She gazed up into his eyes. "Marlena," he said quietly. "Duncan has some news I think he should share with you privately."
She nodded, eyes wide. "Of course, Randor," she said softly. They went into the bed chamber and Randor walked towards the children and Orko.
"I couldn't figure out what was going on, so I just tried to go in through a window. I must have slid down the slope of the shield because Dorgan found me at the side of the abyss."
"Orko . . ." Adam shook his head.
"I know, I shouldn't be so impulsive," the little Trollan said. "But I was so excited, and it's such a pleasure to be doing something that helps someone."
"You've been helping me for weeks," Adam exclaimed. "From what I've been told and what little I've seen, you've been giving of yourself unstintingly."
"Yes, but . . ." He was twisting his hem in his hands. "There are things that have happened that make me feel awful, and I wanted to get to helping you as soon as I could to get that out of my mind."
Randor began to see what a toll the murders he was witnessing were taking on poor Orko. Anger fueled his resolve yet again to see that Daviona never harmed anyone else.
Adam was patting Orko's shoulder sympathetically. The Trollan suddenly brightened. "And I wanted to wish you two congratulations and many happy years together."
Both of them flushed bright red at this and Adam stammered out his thanks. Orko beamed at them, and there was a knocking on the sitting room door. Randor hurried to let the Sorceress in. Orko flitted over and Dorgan joined them in a conference. Randor walked back to Adam and Teela. "You two are going to have to get used to that," he said. "People are going to congratulate you a lot."
"And some of them are going to be quite snarky about it," Adam said. "I won't see that much, I guess, or not for awhile, but Teela might." He looked at her. "Are you prepared for that?"
Teela looked a little startled. "Why would anyone be snarky?" she asked.
Adam rolled his eyes. "Lady Darla," he said, apparently by way of explanation. Teela seemed to get the message, because her eyes widened. "Any one of the girls who wants a chance to be Queen of Eternia could be snarky. The smart ones won't be, because they'll recognize that they should make friends with you if they want a place on your court, but you can bet some of them won't be that smart."
"Ick," Teela said. "Great, now I'm going to have people making friends with me just because they want to be friends with the queen."
"Welcome to my world," Adam said. "But it's okay, you learn to tell the difference. And sometimes you can figure out how to make real friends with the ones who just think they want to be friends with the royal family."
"Why would I want to do that?" Teela demanded.
Adam sighed and shook his head. "Come on, Teela," he said persuasively, "it's not necessarily a sign that they're horrible people. Once they realize that there is a real person inside the title, they can be quite different."
Randor found this conversation enlightening to say the least. He'd had friends before he became king, Adam was born a prince. It made something of a difference, it seemed.
"All right," Dorgan said, walking towards them. "There is a decision to be made. I want to do this procedure in the infirmary room so that we're close to all the medical equipment, while Orko thinks we should do it in your bedroom so that you don't have to be moved afterwards."
Randor looked to Adam, because it made little difference to him. He'd carry Adam from the infirmary to the bedroom if need be. Since everyone else turned to him as well, Adam looked a little startled. "Um . . . Sorceress, what do you think?"
"I do not know," she replied.
"What exactly is going to happen?" Adam asked.
"I'm going to cast a spell on you that will loosen the bonds of the last drug," Orko said, drifting back and forth with nervous cheer. "There's nothing explosive about it, though, so it won't be dangerous."
"It's going to send your body awash with foreign matter again, in much greater numbers than the previous spells did," Dorgan said. "Because it's loosening all the remaining particles of the conditioning drug at once."
"So I'm going to be very sick?" Adam asked. "But . . . won't it make me hyper condition . . . um . . . conditional?"
"Suggestible," Dorgan amended. He blinked worriedly. "It could, I suppose, I hadn't considered it."
Randor noticed that Teela was gazing anxiously at Adam, who cleared his throat nervously. "If that's the case, maybe it would be better if I just slept through it."
Dorgan pursed his lips, and didn't respond. The Sorceress spoke thoughtfully. "A dreamless sleep might help that but . . ."
"But we wouldn't know if you were in any physical difficulty, my boy," Dorgan said. "I'm not sure that's such a good –"
"Yes, we would," Teela said suddenly. "I can tell you. His heart rate just speeded up."
"Teela!" Adam exclaimed, going red.
"And now he's annoyed."
"Yes, well, I think we all observed the latter," Dorgan said, dryly.
"Teela," Adam repeated more quietly. "That's embarrassing."
"I'm sorry, but I thought they needed some kind of evidence." Adam still looked uneasy. Teela squeezed him. "And you don't have to worry, because I'll be with you the whole time."
Adam gazed at her a moment with gratitude, but then his eyes widened. He turned towards Randor. "Dad?" he asked.
"I'll be there, too, son," he answered.
"Okay," Adam said. He looked at the trio, healer, sorceress and wizard. "So, asleep, please? If Teela can you tell what my body's doing, that should solve the problem."
"I suppose it would be for the best," Dorgan said hesitantly, looking at the Sorceress. "Is it likely that Teela can tell us sufficiently what's going on with him?"
"I believe so."
Dorgan considered a moment longer, then nodded decisively. "Then let's do it." He made a face. "That still doesn't answer our original disagreement. Where do we do it?" Dorgan asked.
"Probably not my room," Adam said. "My mother and Duncan are in there talking privately." Dropping his arm from Teela's shoulders, he took her hand and headed towards the infirmary room. Randor followed, wondering at the fact that Adam had managed to notice Duncan and Marlena's leaving amid his own conversation and concerns.
If all went well, they would be returning to the palace in two days, and he really had to consider how he was going to manage things in the long term so that he always had time for Adam.
Jeclarren cooked as quickly as possible, wondering if any of the foodstuffs were things she'd picked up on her murderous trip the previous day. Daviona was very focused on her work, largely ignoring him and not speaking much. He wanted out of her presence as soon as possible.
She'd asked him to fix a cold lunch for them, and when she took him back to the room she had him carry it with him. Jeclarren walked across the room and put it down on the table.
Sanviro rose and walked over to the door, watching her out of sight. Then he came and put an arm around Jeclarren's shoulders. "Are you all right?" he asked. Jeclarren shrugged. "Good, then," Sanviro said as if he'd replied in the affirmative. "We need to get back to work on your reading."
Jeclarren didn't really want to do anything, but Sanviro was very managing. He wouldn't take no for an answer.
Hours later, when Daviona came for Sanviro, she left Jeclarren alone with only his thoughts for company. They were not pleasant ones. She had killed someone. If he had killed her on any of the occasions he'd thought about it, whoever it was would still be alive.
She was planning something, that much was clear, and he wanted desperately to stop her. However, she had already planned for so many contingencies that it made him nervous about attempting to kill her. If he didn't succeed on the first try, she might kill him, which would leave Sanviro alone. Alternatively, she might just put him in isolation as she'd talked about, which would also leave Sanviro alone. Either way, they'd be considerably worse off, and he wouldn't get another chance.
He didn't know what to do, but one thing he did know. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Sanviro alone with her. Together, they had some chance of maintaining their sanity. Alone . . .
It didn't bear thinking about.
Evil-Lyn sat in her study, going over books of offensive spells, though she hadn't turned the page in a long while, nor was she really seeing the words and diagrams in front of her. She was still stunned by her own abrupt declaration of the previous night. True, it had been building for some time, but for it to just burst out like that . . . she wasn't usually that impulsive.
Still, once the decision was made and announced, however impulsively, there was no turning back, and she could no longer pretend, even in the privacy of her own mind, that Skeletor bore any real resemblance to the man she'd known two decades ago. It had been years since a single word had been said about Keldor's political agenda. Skeletor seemed to be all about revenge and power, and nothing more.
She could understand those desires, but those whom she wanted revenge on seemed to be beyond her reach. As for power . . . that she wanted as well, but there were limits to what she was willing to do to achieve it. That had once been true of Keldor, but apparently not of Skeletor.
She couldn't count on Randor agreeing to her scheme, he wasn't that practical. She didn't know why she'd suggested a plan that put her in so much danger; a full pardon wasn't really that important to her. Still, what was done was done, and that boy had suffered more than enough. Any score she might have had to settle with Randor was mightily outweighed by her complicity in what had happened to his son.
And Adam . . . she owed the boy any recompense of his choosing. He'd never wronged her in any way.
It all came back to that, she thought, leaning back in her chair. Duncan was right. No matter how she twisted and turned, trying to rationalize, he had her neatly pinned to the wall. She was as guilty of Daviona's deeds as if she had planned them. And seeing that choice, that decision, in a different light had cast the same stark illumination over other decisions, reaching back years. It was as if a door had opened on her soul, and she didn't much like the view.
For one thing, it was making her thoughts appallingly melodramatic in a way that was hardly enjoyable.
"Woolgathering?" came a nasal voice behind her. Only years of practice dealing with the silent comings and goings of the Lord of Snake Mountain enabled her not to react to the unwelcome surprise of his arrival. "I expected to find you hard at work."
She looked up at him languidly. "I am," she drawled. "Can't you tell?"
"Of course," he said, walking forward and shoving some of her books aside to lean one hip on her table. "How are you coming?"
"I've already placed three new shields around the mountain," she said. "Didn't you notice them?"
"Naturally, but I wasn't sure if you were done or not. After all, we do want to be ready to protect the young prince when he arrives."
"I am building the next shield in my mind before I set it," she said blandly. "You are interrupting."
His eyes flashed crimson. "Do not push me, Evil-Lyn."
She sat up straight. "Forgive me, Lord Skeletor."
The light in his eyes faded, and he looked down at her almost benevolently. "You are forgiven, my dear." Pushing off the table, he stood up straight. "Keep up the good work."
She turned to watch him go, and when he had shut the door behind him, she relaxed and narrowed her eyes. He was also getting deplorably confident of his control over her. She already had several more shields in mind, and none of them would be difficult to place. Not that Skeletor would be able to tell the difference.
Leaning back again, she contemplated what she had to offer Randor. At this precise moment it was little enough. She didn't have any detailed information about Skeletor's plans. She didn't have much of anything, truth be told.
If she could hand them Daviona on a plate, that would be something. Randor might absolve her of the murder of whole villages if she could manage that. With the Sorceress failing, however, it hardly seemed likely that Evil-Lyn would succeed. Unless . . . if she thought of a different angle . . .
