Ian awoke, confused and groggy, in his own
bed at home. He tried to order events in his
mind. He was vaguely aware that he had been
recalled home early. Suddenly he sat up in the
bed, his father's message creeping up from the
drugged slumber he had been in. "She needs you."
His sudden movement startled the dozing
housekeeper from her chair beside the bed.

"You're awake, Master Ian. You were
supposed to sleep longer," she said, surprised to
see him up already, she had been told he would
probably be unconscious for a few more hours.
"Mr. Irons left word that if you woke up, you were
to take your medication. I will notify him."

"I need to see him," Ian said urgently,
showing more emotion than she had seen from him in
the last several years. Not surprising he was
upset, recalled home suddenly before the end of
term with little or no explanation, drugged the
whole time, she thought, disapprovingly. But
there was no telling him, not if you wanted to
keep your place. The housekeeper sighed.

"That is all very well, but you aren't going
to disobey, are you?"

"No, Ma'am." he said, bringing his voice
under control and accepting the pills and water
she handed him from the table.

"I will tell him that you are awake," she
said kindly, a little sad to see his mask
reemerge.

"Thank you," he said, his voice almost a
perfect copy of Irons'. She turned and fled the
room to make her report, and perhaps to shed a few
tears for a little boy long gone.

It took Kenneth Irons almost an hour to
finish up his business and return home. He
entered his son's room to find him lying groggily
in his bed, one of the day staff sitting by his
side, neither talking. The young man got to his
feet and left quickly. The boy tried to rise at
his father's entrance, but was waved back with a
sudden motion. He lay back, too weak to protest.

"Sir, what has happened?" he asked, trying
to contain the joy and concern in his voice. He
had been growing steadily more uncomfortable as he
waited, but did not want to surrender to the sleep
the medication would give him, did not want to
have to wait any longer than necessary to have his
questions answered. Ian knew he would never be
sent for like this unless it was very important,
and the message the Headmaster had given him had
left him deeply concerned, all the more so when he
had been drugged under orders. He hated
medications or anything else to do with doctors,
regardless of what he was told about their
necessity.

"There has been a bit of a.change in the
situation concerning our lady," Irons told him
quietly, sitting down in the vacant chair beside
the bed.

"Is she well?" he asked, trying to hide his
distress. He closed his eyes and tried to clear
his mind, open up to feel her, but he could not
seem to reach the link. He tried again, this time
to reach out for his father, but even that effort
only netted him his location, which was useless at
present.

"Ian, do not try that again," Irons told
him, sharply feeling the slight brush of his son's
mind and knowing immediately what he was
attempting to do. "You are not capable at
present."

"I'm sorry, Sir, I was concerned. I do not
understand. What is wrong? Why have you had me
drugged?" He struggled to sit up, the medication
leaving him feeling trapped by his own inability
to move. Finally his father took his hand,
helping him to sit, a less vulnerable position
easing him a little.

"Sara's Father has been murdered. Because
of the sensitivity of the link in the past year, I
thought it best to bring you back home, where
Doctor Immo can monitor you. Also I did not want
you to be.overwhelmed again," he said it mildly
enough, but Ian knew he was referring to the past
summer, when his link to his father had made
things awkward between them. He lowered his head,
looking down at his hands and trying to push those
thoughts away. His father sensed his sudden
embarrassment and continued on, trying to take his
mind off it. "Besides, I thought you would prefer
to be here, to observe how she fares. A test, if
you will, of her strength. Was I mistaken?"

"I know my duty, Sir. I will do as you bid
me," he said, keeping the excitement firmly out of
his voice. "But may I ask a question?" Ian
hesitated, his drugged state making it hard to
judge his father's reactions with his usual skill.

"You already have, young Nottingham.
Precision in speech is one of your duties to me, I
believe. But I will forgive it this time, due to
your condition. What do you wish to ask?" he
said, a gentle smile playing about his lips.

"Yes, Sir." He carefully phrased the
question, not wishing another reprimand, no matter
how slight. "Does this development mean that we
may bring the Lady Sara home, now?" Irons was a
little startled by both the question and the logic
that had led him to ask it. He had always
encouraged Ian to think of the next wielder as a
sibling, even a member of the family. It should
not have surprised him when Ian reached the
logical conclusion.

"No, I am afraid not. I believe she is to
live with her Aunt's family."

"But why, Sir, are we not also her family?"

"No, my son, not yet," he said kindly,
trying to give his son as much reassurance as he
was able to. "Not until the time comes for her to
fulfill her destiny, and ours. But until then we
must be vigilant, especially now, when she is more
vulnerable than ever. Do you wish to take part in
this little exercise?" He smiled inwardly,
knowing exactly what the boy's response would be.

"If it is your wish, Sir," he said quietly,
yawning. His fight against the medication was
loosing ground rapidly.

"Excellent. Sleep now. There will be time
for more later, after the Doctor has seen you."

"Yes, thank you, Sir," he said as he slumped
back down into the bed.

Irons sat there watching him sleep, sunk in
his own thoughts, until Renfrew came to remind him
of his appointment. He reached out and tousled
the boy's head gently, giving him a last look
before he left, sending one of the staff to keep
watch while he slept.