Chapter 10 Teela

Randor was released from the infirmary several hours later by a disgruntled Dorgan who seemed to think he should stay in bed for the rest of the day. Duncan had left to get some duties taken care of, and Randor was all too aware that he'd been letting things slide rather thoroughly himself. Marlena was taking care of the most urgent matters, covering him with the fiction that he was ill. Guilt suffused him, but he hadn't been able to stop watching Adam and Teela, even though he was just sleeping and she was exercising.

Finally, his inaction had gotten to him, and forced him to get up and find something to do. It occurred to him that he still needed to visit Cringer. He arrived at Cringer's prison to find that Duncan had beaten him to it.

"Don't worry, Cringer, everything will be fine," Man-at-Arms was saying as he opened the door. "Teela is with him now, and he'll be fine." Randor peered around the door and saw that Cringer was sitting up and Duncan was kneeling in front of him. The cat looked pathetically pleased to have a visitor, and was butting at Man-at-Arms' hands. "There's nothing you can do this time, Cringer. I only wish there was."

"There wasn't much he could do last time, either," Randor said. Duncan jumped and looked up in startlement.

"Your highness, I –"

"Hello, Cringer," Randor said, shutting the door and going through the passgate. "I'm glad to see that you've had another visitor besides me."

"Teela's been to see him several times," Duncan said. "I thought you knew."

"No, but it doesn't surprise me." Randor sat down on the floor and started scratching the big cat. "She was always soft on him, no matter what she said."

"I think we all are, Randor."

The king and his chief advisor spent an hour at least cosseting the cat before they had to return to their duties. Randor spent the afternoon dealing with some issues that only he could solve, but by dinner time, he was back in his study watching Teela worry about Adam. Marlena joined him for dinner, but after getting a quick look at the two of them, she didn't want to watch them.

"I can pace enough myself without watching Teela do it." When he'd told her that Teela had been taken as well, Randor had watched the same conflicted emotions cross her face that he had felt. Relief, anxiety, apprehension, guilt for being glad that Adam was no longer alone. "Just tell me if anything important happens."

Adam had slept through the whole day, as far as Randor could see. He'd watched Teela carefully pouring glop down his throat more than once when he'd looked in on them. Teela had whiled away the time in irritable activity, and then had finally settled down on the floor at the head of the bed, leaning against the wall to doze off.

Marlena dragged him to bed that night, and they had cuddled close together, seeking comfort in their loss. No, not loss, Randor shook his head grumpily. They haven't been lost. Their deprivation. He lay down with Marlena in his arms and tried to sleep.

He awoke several times in the night and looked in on the children. Teela was having trouble sleeping as well, she kept getting up and walking around. The witchlight dimmed at night, while they slept, but there was enough light to see by.

As dawn lightened the eastern sky, Randor woke to see that Teela had extended her staff and was prying at the wood of the walls. He watched as she pulled one board free, and then started yanking them out to widen the hole. What she uncovered was astonishing.

Adam woke up lying on the cot under the quilt his father had sent him. Were the leopard and Teela just a dream? he wondered. His eyes fell on the white bandage that now covered the burn on his arm. No, then, he thought.

There was an odd quality to the light in here this morning. Sort of a greenish, rippling effect. He sat up gingerly and looked around.

Teela stood stock still, her extended staff in one hand. Yellow boards lay around her, and she was staring out through the hole she'd made. Adam found himself likewise transfixed by the view. In the distance, seaweed danced gracefully in water currents. Schools of fish made darting shifts in direction, the dim light from their prison flashing on their scales. Teela reached out a tentative hand to touch the surface that lay beneath the wood of the walls. Adam wondered what it felt like. They both started and Teela drew back as a pair of octopi hurtled past the jagged window Teela had created, struggling against each other, quickly passing out of sight. Adam gazed in astonishment at the vista Teela had revealed.

A pair of battling octopi? Randor stared, appalled by the realization that his son and Duncan's daughter were in a small box deep under the sea. Marlena stirred next to him, and leaned over to see what he was looking at. "Randor?" she said blearily, "what are you – oh my – tell me I'm dreaming!"

"No, Marlena, you're not. I wish you were." He blinked. "But this does narrow it down a bit."

"A bit, I suppose." Marlena leaned over him silently for a moment. "I have to go," she murmured, then got up and walked swiftly into the bathing chamber. He watched her go, and then, keeping his eyes on the viewer, started dressing himself. He had to find Duncan.

Adam came back to himself suddenly and launched himself across the room. "Teela, no! Put them back!" He fell to his knees, but, ignoring his weakness and the stiffness of his muscles, he seized one of the short planks and tried to figure out how to fit it into the opening.

Teela turned in surprise. "What? Why?"

"He said he'd kill my mother if I tried to get through the walls!"

After one appalled moment, Teela began shoving the boards back in. "I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know." She took the wood right out of his hands. "Go sit down, Adam. You shouldn't be up."

Despite the urgency he felt about getting that hole filled in again, Adam was compelled to obey. His head ached abominably, and he still felt vaguely nauseated. "What's wrong with me?" he asked uneasily as he sat down at the table.

"It's the aftereffects of that scratch you got. A few minutes after you passed out, the food dishes were replaced by a basin full of medical supplies." She gave the last piece a solid shove to reseat it and turned around to face him. "One of them was an anti-toxin, so instead of being sick for three or four days, your nausea should pass off sometime today."

"Oh good," Adam said feelingly. He opened his mouth to ask if she knew anything else about his father, but she spoke before he could go on.

"Are there any more rules I should know about?" Teela asked in a slightly worried voice.

Adam shook his head. "No, that's the only one." He reached out to pour himself a glass of water and his burn twinged. "Oh, and don't attack him," he added, glaring at the neat bandage. He realized abruptly that he wasn't wearing a shirt and that the pants he wore were whole. An unpleasantly sweetish taste lingered in his mouth. A familiar, sweetish taste. It couldn't be. Glop? "How long was I unconscious?" he asked.

Teela walked over and put the back of her hand against his forehead. "Only about a day. Your fever's gone down considerably."

Adam shifted irritably away from her. "How did I wind up in these clothes?" he asked suspiciously.

Shrugging, Teela sat down against one of the walls. "What difference does it make?" she asked. "We need to talk about –"

"Did I change myself and just forget?" Adam asked, unwilling to let the subject slide. He didn't like the thought that she might have – might have – He flushed. "Or –"

Teela let out an explosive sigh. "I changed your clothes, Adam," she said briskly. "I had to."

"But Teela!" he exclaimed, feeling his face go very hot.

"Adam, you're being silly," she replied, going slightly pink herself. "I didn't even know you had a burn until I saw the burn ointment among the supplies. You were starting to get a fever, and I had to make sure that you didn't have any other injuries." She shrugged. "Besides, those pants were wrecked and bloody." Adam scowled. There wasn't anything he could object to reasonably in what she'd said. "That's a pretty bad burn."

His eyes strayed back to the bandage. "Yeah, well, now you know why I don't think you should attack him," he said off-handedly, unprepared for the vehemence of Teela's reaction.

The strength of her emotions propelled her to her feet, and she started to pace. "That pathetic, rotten, vindictive bully! You couldn't have done any real damage to him, and that – that – that's horrible!"

Adam's brows knit and he looked up at her feeling a little hurt. "What do you mean I couldn't have really hurt him?"

She stopped and looked at him, tilting her head. "Well, I've seen him a lot over the last day or so, and he hasn't been limping or bandaged." Adam blinked. That wasn't what he'd thought she meant. Her expression darkened again and she glared at his arm. "That handprint is just sick!"

Adam nodded his agreement. "Yeah," he said. "And it's my handprint."

Teela shuddered. "So, he did that while you were fighting?" she asked, walking over to the bed and sitting down on it tailor-fashion.

Adam shook his head. "No, after. And it wasn't much of a fight, really." Adam sighed. "He slammed me against a wall with a spell before I got near him."

"I don't understand. What happened?"

Adam closed his eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it, Teela."

She was quiet for a moment, then she said, "Adam, are you all right?" He opened his eyes to see that she was gazing worriedly at him. "What did he do to you?"

The intensity of her regard made Adam shift uncomfortably. "He burned me. That's all." She leaned toward him, her eyes boring into his. "Teela, it's fine. It could have been a lot worse!"

She drew back in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Adam shrugged. This wasn't a subject he liked even thinking about. "When he told me not to try to go through the walls, he showed me what he can do with his hands."

Teela's eyes widened. "But, there aren't any other wounds – what did he do?"

"He turned a chair like this one to ash in like two seconds, just by laying his hand on it." Teela's eyes were huge. "I thought, when he came at me with his hand upraised, that –" He shuddered. "A handprint somehow doesn't seem so bad."

"Oh." Her voice was very small.

"So, what happened to my dad?" he demanded. "You said he collapsed?"

Teela opened her mouth and looked uncomfortable. "I don't really know much. I've already told you what I know. He's unwell but being treated. How long have you been here? You said four days?" Adam nodded. "So when Cringer attacked you it was really him?"

Adam's jaw dropped. "Cringer did what?"

Teela blinked. "Oh, right, you wouldn't know about that. He –"

"Did the imposter hurt him?"

"No, he sort of froze. It was weird. Your father showed up and pulled Cringer away, but that's when everyone started wondering what was wrong with the king."

"With my father?"

"He was almost laughing – I didn't get it, but he must have know that wasn't you –"

"But what happened to Cringer?"

"Your father had him locked up in a room and told everyone he'd forbidden you to visit him."

"He's been alone in a little room for four days?" Adam exclaimed. "But he hates being alone! And he's afraid of the dark!"

Teela sighed. "He's fine, Adam. I visited him yesterday morning."

"What about today?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've been here today."

"Oh, right." Adam sighed. A burst of anger shot through him and he slammed his fist down on the table. "I hate this!" He stood up, wobbling slightly. Exasperated, he steadied himself then walked over to the chest where he picked up the picture and sat down, holding it in his arms. "I want to go home."

"I'm sure." Teela stood up and walked around the room, looking at the walls. "Nice carvings, by the way. How'd you do them?"

"I just used –" He looked around for one of the pottery shards, but found they were all gone. Letting out a short laugh, he said, "Now why am I not surprised?" Teela raised a brow. "I broke a plate and used the pieces. But I grabbed one of them when I went to attack him, and I guess he decided I didn't need them anymore."

"He took shards of pottery but left me my staff? Wait a minute! You attacked him with a piece of a plate?"

"It's not like I had anything else."

"What about a book? Or –"

"I didn't have those yet."

"But a chair, even."

"I was going for subtle, Teela." Adam looked down at the picture, trying to imagine Cringer terrifying the imposter. "Not that it worked."

"At least you tried."

Adam leaned back against the wall, watching Teela trace the lines of the archway he'd carved. She was already restless, and she hadn't even been here a whole day yet. This room could get really cramped really fast if she started bouncing of the walls.

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. His head was throbbing, but the thought of sleeping any longer was unbearable. Instead, he tried to marshal his energy to start working on some research. With Teela here, he could at least bounce ideas off her. Maybe that would help keep her occupied.

A warm hand on his forehead made him scowl. "Teela, I'm fine," he muttered.

"What?" she said, and he could tell she was much too far away to be touching him. His eyes snapped open and she gasped at the same moment. The imposter stood in front of him, one hand on Adam's head, gazing across the room at Teela.

"You make a good point, warrior girl," the imposter said. Adam reached up to shove his hand away, but there was a slight rise in the heat emanating from the hand. "Don't touch me, boy," his double said in a warning tone. Adam froze, then slowly lowered his hands. "Now, girl, you were quite right. Your weapons are a problem. Throw them down in the center of the room."

Teela didn't speak, and Adam couldn't really see her past the imposter, but he heard metallic thuds as she tossed her weapons down.

"Now, I don't really buy that you don't have anything else dangerous on you. Him, I got while he was sleeping. You were on active duty."

"You could just send her home," Adam said hopefully. "You don't really need her, do you?"

The imposter turned on him with a malicious grin. "Oh, but I do. That mechanic needs some incentive to get him moving on my project, and to keep the secret he had the bad sense to guess."

"What?" Teela exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, girl, that you are being held as surety against your father's actions. Does that annoy you?" Teela glared but didn't respond, a piece of wisdom that Adam heartily applauded. "Besides, I suddenly felt the need for a somewhat more – disposable – hostage, someone who –"

Fury coursed through Adam; forgetting all thoughts of wisdom, he surged to his feet, shoving the imposter back. "How dare you!" Adam cried.

A moment later, he slammed into the wall and slid limply down to the chest again. "How dare I?" the imposter purred, leaning close to him, one hand cupping his chin. "How dare you, boy? You've got no sense whatsoever, have you?"

"Leave him alone!" Teela shouted from across the room. "I've given you all my weapons. What else do you want?" The imposter looked into Adam's eyes, then grabbed his arm at the bandage and yanked him forward off the chest. Adam fell to his knees, gritting his teeth against the agonizing pain. Teela looked back and forth between them, a disturbed look on her face.

"What do I want?" The imposter muttered something and gestured with his free hand and a pile of fabric landed on the bed. "I want your clothes, girl." He grinned. "Strip."

If Adam could have become He-Man by sheer force of will at that moment, he would have slammed the imposter repeatedly against the floor. As it was, he reached up and grabbed the familiar leather strap across the front of the imposter's chest, dragging him down. He broke his other arm free of the double's grip with a gasp of pain. They hit the floor together, and Adam swung at the fellow, connecting with a meaty thunk. He got in several more blows as they rolled across the floor, but adrenaline and rage could only carry him so far. His depleted strength was no match for the imposter's, and he soon found himself pinned to the floor, struggling futilely.

The doppelganger placed his hand on Adam's chest right over the heart. His eyes narrowing, he murmured those strange syllables again. The heat built up rapidly, and Adam screamed as he felt his skin burning. He reached out blindly, slapping the imposter in the face and then catching him at the neck. He sunk his thumb into the hollow of his attacker's throat and pressed until the double had to break away, gasping and clutching at his neck. His eyes flashed fire, and he took a step towards Adam. Grunting with the pain the effort caused him, Adam dragged himself backwards. Teela's uniform hit the imposter in the face.

"There, you've got my clothes, you perverse lunatic!" she yelled.

The imposter drew himself up to Adam's full height. This was the first time Adam could ever remember being glad that he wasn't quite as tall as Teela. He looked the captain of the royal guard in the eye and said, "Thank you." She had draped the blanket around her and was glaring at the villain. He waved his hand and murmured again.

He made his portal and was gone, and Teela's things with him.

Randor read over the same document for the fifth time, trying to get the sense of it. He was making no headway whatsoever this morning. Shortly after he'd watched Teela force the boards back into the wall to cover up the exterior view, Duncan had come in to see him. After much argument and some outright coercion, Duncan had gotten him to give the viewer to Stratos to take to the Sorceress to see if she could locate their missing children. It wasn't that he didn't want to find them, he just didn't want to give up the viewer.

Stratos had left early that morning and he still wasn't back yet. When Randor reached the fourth paragraph of the writ without gleaning so much as the names of the parties involved, he gave up. He decided to go see how Duncan was coming with the excavator. So far he hadn't even seen it. He supposed he ought to at least view the device that was costing his men so much time, his kingdom so much money and his family so much peace of mind.

Getting up to leave the room, he glanced out the window and saw the imposter crossing the courtyard below in company with Duncan. They were moving toward the infirmary, and Duncan had his arm firmly across the false Adam's shoulders. The sight made Randor distinctly uneasy, and he left his office at once to make his way to the infirmary.

"Your highness, have you heard about Adam?" exclaimed Orko, zipping up the way he did when he was agitated.

Randor shook his head. "No, Orko. What happened?"

"He was attacked, he says by thieves in the city. He looks like he got beat up pretty bad." Randor felt his eyes widen. What could have happened? And would the imposter blame him? "Your highness, is – is there –" Orko was twisting the hem of his robe and looking unhappy. Randor itched to get to the infirmary, but he couldn't leave the jester in such obvious distress.

"What is it, Orko?" he asked gently. "What do you want to ask?"

"Never mind, your highness. I'm sure you want to go see Adam."

Randor pursed his lips. "Orko, if something is troubling you –" The jester shrugged. "All right, not now. But come see me in my office later. I'll set aside some time for you." Orko nodded and floated away, the dejected tilt of his shoulders telling Randor clearly how anxious he was. Randor turned back toward the infirmary. If the imposter was angry he'd have to find some way to placate him.

As he entered the infirmary, a medic directed him immediately toward the room where Duncan had taken the imposter. Randor walked into the room and stared. Had it been Adam, he would have been very worried, seeking ice packs instantly, he knew that, but knowing that this was not Adam, that this was in fact someone who had been torturing his son, Randor found himself having to control wildly inappropriate laughter.

The imposter's right eye had swollen shut, and a cut in his eyebrow had clearly bled recently. A split lip merely completed the picture. Randor tried to remember that he should behave as though this were his son. "Ice!" he called. "We need ice."

"Already sent for, your highness," Duncan said calmly, one hand still on the imposter's shoulder. "Don't worry, Dorgan and I have things well in hand."

"Good, good," Randor said. He walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Now that there were no witnesses, his jaw set and he walked over to the ersatz prince. "How did this happen?" he demanded.

The imposter straightened, obviously surprised. "You didn't see?" he asked. "I thought you were always watching them." Randor stiffened. What did the little – "That prince of yours isn't as wimpy as everybody thinks."

"Adam attacked you?" Randor said. "Again? What did you do?"

Shrugging, he said, "Nothing of import."

The door opened and Dorgan came bustling in, the very picture of a concerned healer. "All right, Adam, here's an ice pack for your eye." The healer slapped the ice pack against the imposter's face causing him to grunt slightly in pain. "I have some pain medication here as well. You know the one." The healer sighed. "We had such trouble with analgesics while you were in bed, but this is the one that we finally settled on as the best for you." Randor struggled to maintain his expression of concern. He didn't recall any particular difficulty with Adam's pain medications. What was Dorgan up to? "Now, take these pills. Swallow them down, Adam." The imposter washed the pills down with a glass of water handed to him by a straight-faced Duncan. "I'm sure your father and Man-at-Arms are going to want to talk to you, so I'll make sure no one comes in here."

The healer shot Randor a malicious grin as he left the room and shut the door firmly behind him. Duncan walked over to the door and leaned against it. "I went to make a 'progress report' and found him in the hallway outside Adam's room, swearing a blue streak." The imposter glared at him, but Duncan ignored him. "I shut him up and got him over here as fast as I could. Did someone tell you?"

"I saw you two in the courtyard."

The imposter was being unusually quiet. Randor gazed at the sullen expression. "What happened? Adam wouldn't have attacked you over 'nothing of import.'"

The weasel shifted the ice pack on his face. "I was merely making a point. He didn't like what I had to say."

Randor didn't like this. The way the weasel was hedging and stalling, made him very suspicious. Evidently Duncan felt the same, for he said, "So, what did you say?"

The imposter raised his eyes and met Duncan's, left eye narrowing. "What difference does it make?" he asked.

Duncan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Let's just say that the fact that you don't want to tell us makes me intensely curious."

"Yes, why don't you just tell us what you threatened my son with?"

"The threat was meant for you," the imposter snapped, glaring at Randor.

The malevolence in that expression made Randor want to wrap his hands around the imposter's throat and squeeze till he popped. "I see. Well, then, shouldn't I know what it is?" The weasel just sat mute, apparently unwilling to speak. "Well?"

Duncan gave him a thoughtful look. "I think he's annoyed that we weren't watching whatever he did."

Randor shook his head. "I'm not interested in what annoys him." He walked over till he loomed above the imposter. "What is it that you wanted me to know? And what else happened?" The imposter looked up at him, alarm writ in every line of his body. "What do you think, Duncan? Could I break his neck before he manages to burn me again?"

"I'm quite certain you could, your highness." The weasels eyes widened at Duncan's casual tone.

"I'm not an injured and weakened boy, you rotten little weasel. Or are you too frightened to tell me what you said to my son?"

"I simply told him that the girl was an expendable hostage." Randor saw Duncan's hands flex in his peripheral vision. "And then I took her weapons."

"When did Adam attack you?"

"When I told her to – to – to take her clothes off." There was a sudden loud knocking at the door, startling them all. It was fortunate for the imposter that they were interrupted, for Randor was ready throw him through a wall, and he didn't even want to guess what Duncan wanted to do to him.

Duncan opened the door and had a hurried conversation with whoever was outside. "Your highness, Stratos has urgent news. He says it can't wait."

Randor nodded curtly. "Excuse me, Adam," he said. "I'll be back momentarily." He left the room and practically dragged Stratos into a nearby open exam room.

"Do you have it, Stratos? Or did the Sorceress want to keep it?"

"I have it, your highness. But there is something I must tell you." Stratos looked very grave.

"Does she know where he is?" Randor asked desperately. "Does the Sorceress know how to find my son?"