Chapter 2

Adam and Raon were silent in the rear seat of the wind raider for the whole of the return voyage. Man-E-Faces piloted the vehicle with Mekanek beside him. Quick-Wing flew as close beside them as he could without being caught in its wake. Mekanek kept turning in his seat to speak to Adam, but something in the prince's expression must have forestalled him, because he never said anything.

A cold rage had come over Adam. A bodyguard was supposed to keep him safe, yes, but somehow he didn't think he was supposed to throw his charge to the ground and hold him there while the others in his party were beaten senseless and carried away by villains. If that was a bodyguard's job, then he didn't want one.

When they landed, Adam jumped out and went to Teela, who was just landing her sky sled. "We'd better go see my father."

"You tell your father," Teela said. "I'll alert the rest of the guard."

Going to find his father proved unnecessary. Randor came rushing out into the courtyard and met Adam before he reached the door. His mother would no doubt be hurrying back from her diplomatic mission to Andrenos. Teela continued on to her self-appointed task as the king looked his heir up and down. "Are you all right, Adam?" he demanded.

"I'm fine, Father," Adam said, and the flat tone of his voice brought his father's eyes to his instantly. "We need to talk, in your office, right now."

Randor's eyes scanned the Adam's escort, and Adam knew he noted the missing man. "Where is Duncan?" he asked.

"Taken," Adam said shortly. "Your office, Father?"

Without another word, Randor led him into the palace. Once they were inside his office, Adam shut the door behind them, leaving his bodyguards firmly outside, and walked over to stand before his father's desk. Hands took hold of his shoulders from behind, turning him sharply. "Adam, what happened?"

Adam took a deep breath and controlled the angry torrent of words he wanted to pour out. Now was not the time to come across as the child his father still often seemed to think he was. "We need to rethink this whole bodyguard idea, Father, it's not going to work as it is."

"What happened?" Randor asked again.

Adam quickly outlined the events leading up to the ambush. "When I got to my feet and started to go to help Duncan," he said, hastily editing all references to He-Man out, "Raon knocked me flat and wouldn't let me up. When I tried to get up, he shoved me down again and I dropped my sword." Adam shook his head angrily. "As a result, I wound up weaponless between the two of them, watching Duncan get beaten unconscious, and then Beastman swooped in with a griffin to carry him off." His father blanched at that description, which reaction was why Adam hadn't softened it. "So now they have Man-At-Arms, and who knows what they plan to do with him." Adam crossed his arms. "And Clawful stole my sword." This passed unnoticed, as Adam had known it would. His father had no idea why Adam's sword was important, and Adam couldn't tell him without betraying his secret.

"Was it Duncan they were after?" Randor asked slowly.

Adam nodded. "The minute Beastman's griffin had him, Tri-Klops yelled, 'We got what we came for,' so, yeah, I think so."

"But, why?"

"I don't know." Adam thumped down into one of the chairs that faced his father's desk. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm not sure," Randor said, looking troubled.

"Well, we could mass the troops and go after them," Adam said. "Isn't that what you did for me?"

"It's not that easy, Adam. You're the crown prince." Adam sat up straight, shocked by this response. "Don't worry about it, Adam, we won't leave him there."

"I'm glad to hear it," Adam said sarcastically. "Like I thought we were going to leave him there!" He rolled his eyes. "What about Raon?"

"Yes, Raon." Adam wondered why his father suddenly looked so embarrassed, but the king shook his head. "Now is not the time to deal with it. Send for the masters. We'll go fetch him."

"Good," Adam said, and they started out of the office.

"I don't suppose you know how to get hold of He-Man, do you?" the king asked, but Adam shook his head.

"Unfortunately, no," he said, wishing profoundly for his sword. "I could go to Grayskull and ask the Sorceress for help."

Randor looked thoughtful. "Someone must certainly be sent to tell her. But not you, Adam. It's not safe."

Adam blinked at him. "Father, you can't keep me locked up in the palace for the rest of time! And it's not likely that she'd let anyone else inside."

"I'll think about it. In the meantime, you'd best go get the masters and we'll have a council on how best to retrieve Duncan."

Duncan had not been able to persuade Evil-Lyn either to leave or to turn her back. He washed himself quickly and with icy dignity, refusing her suggestion that she scrub his back for him. "I think you've done enough to my back for one day," he muttered, ignoring her low laugh of amusement.

When he was done, he stood and reached for a towel. She held it just out of his reach and looked him up and down with interest. Reaching, he snatched the towel of her grasp, turned his back and dried himself off. She laughed delightedly, obviously pleased at having gotten his goat. Draping the fabric around his loins, he stepped out of the tub and glared at the giggling witch.

He looked at the spot where he'd dropped his pants only to find that they were no longer there. "So where are my pants?" he asked irritably.

"You won't be needing those, lover," she said in a low sultry voice.

He glared at her. "What? Am I supposed to walk around in a towel?"

She raised her staff and pointed it at him. Startled, he took a step back, but he was sure that she wasn't going to attack him. Why bathe him just to mutilate him afterwards? The blast of power seemed to blow past and around him rather than striking him. He looked down to find that he was now clothed.

"Is this it?" he asked, his voice very close to a growl. An amused laugh was his only answer. It took several slow, calming breaths for him to get himself under control. The garments she had provided were ludicrously brief. The top was a sleeveless shirt with a lower collar than he was used to, and loose shorts that came midway down his calf completed the outfit. Also, they were purple, the very same purple that Evil-Lyn habitually wore.

"Skeletor is waiting," she said. Duncan closed his eyes in dismay, dreading a meeting with the lord of Snake Mountain wearing this garb. "He gets irritable when he's kept waiting.

He gave her a sour look. "And we wouldn't want that, certainly."

"No," she said, her voice full of irony. "We certainly wouldn't want that." She leaned forward and walked her fingers up his arm. "Come along, now, Duncan. Or I might have to add a leash to that fetching ensemble."

"What?" Adam gazed furiously at his father. "What do you mean, I'm not going?" His father took a deep breath, and sighed, giving him the look that meant he was about to give five or six very good points to explain why Adam couldn't go on the rescue. Before he could forge on with his explanations, Adam continued. "I am going! You can't leave me behind."

"Adam, be reasonable. You aren't coming." The masters who were preparing to accompany the king on this rescue mission drew aside to create the illusion that they weren't present for this family disagreement. Adam observed this irritably, thinking that he could have used some support. When Orko had been sent to inform the Sorceress of Duncan's situation, Adam had assumed that it was a foregone conclusion that he would help in the rescue.

"What's so unreasonable about wanting to help rescue Duncan?"

"I understand that you want to help, and I appreciate it. Duncan would appreciate it. But if you come, the masters will have to split their time between protecting you and searching for Duncan."

"I've been inside Snake Mountain more times than any of you," Adam declared. His father flinched back from the comment, and Adam wondered if he was ever going to get over the guilt he'd been wallowing in since autumn, when Adam had been abducted by the imposter mere months after having been carried off by Skeletor's minions. "I should go."

"Adam, you're not going," his father said firmly. "That's final."

Stratos stepped forward, looking uncomfortable. "My prince, your father is right. As heir to the throne, you must stay at the palace where you are safe."

"Safe?" Adam repeated incredulously. "At the palace?" Adam saw his father cringe back, but he couldn't stop himself. First Raon had knocked him to the ground, and now his father was going to restrict him to the palace complex again. He could see it in his eyes. His father wasn't going to let him do anything even remotely dangerous ever again! "So, if I weren't the heir to the throne it would be okay if I got killed? Or if I at least had a brother so there was a spare?" Furious as he was, Adam could see by his father's wounded expression that he had gone too far with that last remark. He mouthed silently for a moment, then said, "Fine." He turned and left, horrified that he'd said that to his father and embarrassed that he'd said it in front of the masters. Why was his father being so stubborn? Shadowed as always by a pair of bodyguards, he walked out onto a balcony and sat down glumly on the wall. His father's team took off and he watched them out of sight.

Nothing made sense anymore. Here he was, frustrated by the lack of the sword that made it possible for him to become the He-Man and equally frustrated by that same sword's existence. The sword and its secret made it impossible for Prince Adam to be a hero. Or seem even marginally competent, he thought morosely, picking at the lacing of his wrist guard.

His father would get Duncan back. He'd rescued Adam from Snake Mountain without He-Man's help, after all. On the other hand, no one who was going would make any priority of retrieving the sword, so He-Man would remain out of reach until something could be done about that.

Adam stayed on the balcony, watching for his father and Duncan's return. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done that. Back when they were children, Teela would have joined him, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching beside him. They'd sat together waiting for their fathers many times in the past. This was different, though. Teela was with them, now, and he was left home to watch alone.

He glanced over his shoulder at Pirschan and Quick Wing. Alone except for his bodyguards. Heaving an irritated sigh, he turned back to look out over the palace courtyard and the countryside beyond.

A few moments later, he heard a voice that made his back stiffen. "Adam?"

"What, Raon?" Adam said, his voice as level and calm as he could make it.

Raon walked up to stand beside him at the railing. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you how sorry." Adam could hear the distress in his friend's voice over what had happened, and the prince looked down at the marble veining of the stone balustrade, eyes automatically seeking the shapes he'd found in the random patterns as a child. He didn't want to hear this right now, not while he was still so angry. "But, Adam . . . your highness . . ." Adam closed his eyes, gritting his teeth at this reminder of his position. "My priority has to be you."

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. "So, let me get this straight. You have to protect me." Raon nodded in his peripheral vision. "By throwing me to the ground and causing me to lose my own weapon, so that if, Elders forbid, you and Quick Wing had gone down, I would have had no way to defend myself."

Raon grimaced. "I'm sorry, but your father has been pretty emphatic about keeping you where I could see you, especially after you disappeared on that trip to the Southern Continent."

Adam bit his lip and felt his fists clench. He could hardly tell Raon – or his father – that He-Man had been needed, and that he hadn't actually been out of the sight of his bodyguards for more than the time it took to transform and to change back. "Right," he said curtly.

"The danger you were in then was stunning, and we had no idea where you were for nearly four hours. Your father told me to make sure you didn't get away from me again, and he was . . ."

Adam nodded and Raon let his description trail off. Adam could imagine just what his father had been like, he'd certainly been incandescent with rage when he'd spoken with Adam about the incident. And it did explain his father's embarrassment. He'd given the order that led to that insanity on the Sands of Time. "Aren't you overdue for some sleep?" Adam asked when they'd both been silent for awhile.

"I am," Raon said. "I don't know if I could sleep right now, though." Adam sympathized, but he didn't much want company. He now understood Raon's behavor better, but perversely, that didn't make him any less angry. Fortunately, he didn't have to come up with a way to dismiss the old friend who had now become the captain of his bodyguard. Murmuring something about duties, Raon withdrew and Adam was left to watch and wait alone again.

As soon as they emerged from Evil-Lyn's 'audience chamber,' Duncan was seized on both sides by Trap Jaw and Whiplash. "Oh, for pity's sake," he growled. "Can't you do something about this?" he asked Evil-Lyn.

"What would I do?" she asked, amused.

"According to you, I can't escape. What's the point?"

"Maybe they're afraid you'll hurt them," she said, gazing at them disdainfully.

"Hey!" Trap Jaw exclaimed.

"What you mean?" demanded Whiplash.

Duncan's patience snapped, allowing his irritation to flash into fury, and he moved swiftly into action. Within moments, Trap Jaw and Whiplash were lying on the ground, groaning. Evil-Lyn watched with interest. Self consciously, he stood up straight out of his combative position.

"Very nice, Duncan," she said, then stepped over Trap Jaw's outflung leg and threaded her hand through his arm. Duncan reflected that it hadn't been wise to give in to temptation. Not that it made much difference. Unless told otherwise, Skeletor's minions would attack him any chance they got. He started to pull away from her, but she dug her nails into the flesh inside his arm. "Be nice."

Cooperate, he told himself. Cooperate and maybe they won't kill you. As if cooperation would make any difference to Skeletor. He sent mental apologies to Adam. This not antagonizing one's captors thing wasn't as easy as it sounded.

Whiplash and Trap Jaw caught up behind them as they arrived at the throne room, looming menacingly, their hostility a tangible thing. No, giving it to temptation hadn't been a wise choice.

Duncan looked ahead and saw that a hooded figure awaited in a throne at the top of a short stair. He couldn't see the face of Randor's nemesis, but he knew what lay in the shadows of that hood. Once, Keldor had been a handsome man, but by a twist of his own vindictive cruelty, his face had been burned away by acid. How his life had been maintained, Duncan didn't know and wasn't going to ask, but a horror lurked within that hood. As he approached Skeletor's throne, he was painfully aware both of his lack of proper clothing and of the evil sorceress who clung to his arm as if he were escorting her to a ball.

Now was the time to speak first, to steal Skeletor's thunder and take charge of the conversation. He pulled away from Evil-Lyn, who didn't object this time, and stepped forward. "Honored as I am by the attention," Duncan said wryly, "I'm at a loss to guess what you hope to gain by it. I'm neither a child nor a non-combatant. Randor won't negotiate for my freedom."

The eyes within that hood glowed red. "Indeed, Man-At-Arms? Well, then it is good that I have no plans to negotiate with Randor for your release." Duncan raised his eyebrows in query, refusing to show just how chilled he was by the remark. What were his plans? "I understand that there is another who might seek your return, and she has greater access to what I desire most of all." Duncan stared in alarm at the master of Snake Mountain. He couldn't mean what it sounded like he meant. Surely court gossip didn't travel this far! But it might explain Evil-Lyn's sudden interest in him. The Lord of Snake Mountain wasn't done. "But there will be time for that later, when I am ready. In the meantime, I have a task for you, Man-At-Arms. One of which I know you are entirely capable." Skeletor rose and descended the stairs. "Follow me."

As if he had a choice. Duncan walked behind the skull-faced menace, ignoring Evil-Lyn and his 'honor guard' with as much dignity as he could muster. He felt ridiculous in this garb, and naked without his armor. Even at home, he rarely went anywhere without it.

Skeletor led him to a small work room. Shelves stuffed with electrical components, coiled wires and miscellaneous parts lined the walls, but in the center sat a device that he recognized. He stopped abruptly and stared. "But it exploded!" Duncan exclaimed.

"Yes, it did," Skeletor said, turning slowly, reminding him that he had set the explosive himself. Duncan gazed apprehensively at the glowing red eyes of the self-proclaimed overlord of evil. "I was very put out." He suppressed the urge to draw back from the hostility in that voice, and the red glare of the empty sockets. "But Tri-Klops, bumbler though he is, managed to salvage at least some of the parts and reconstructed the rest from memory." Duncan glanced at the apparatus. Skeletor might denigrate his henchman's work, but if that was a salvage pull-together, it was amazing. "Unfortunately, he can't make it work, and since we haven't managed to steal the plans, you're going to finish it for me."

"And why would I do that?"

"I'm going to let Evil-Lyn persuade you." Duncan cast an involuntary glance at the witch, who smiled smugly at him. He set his jaw and returned his gaze to Skeletor's face. "Who knows," the skull-faced man continued, "by the time you've finished my machine, you may not want to leave." Duncan snorted at this ridiculous gibe, earning a flash of ire from Evil-Lyn. "Tri-Klops will assist you in any way you require." Duncan raised his eyebrow and glanced toward that individual. The concentrated menace coming from that direction was now explained.

He stared disgustedly at the excavator, irritated by its very existence. He'd built it under duress in the first place. Though he hadn't seen it in weeks, he already loathed the sight of the wretched thing.

Skeletor swept out of the room, leaving him alone with Tri-Klops and Evil-Lyn. Charming. He couldn't decide whose company he'd prefer, the glaring three-eyed tech whose skill had just been maligned or the witch who seemed to have designs on him. It was a tough choice. Tri-Klops stood glowering, leaning against the door frame, and Evil-Lyn stood beside him.

"Well, get to work," Evil-Lyn said.

He gave her a dark look. "And if I refuse?"

She lifted an eyebrow and spoke that foreign word. Duncan thought he'd been prepared this time, but as the pain coursed through him he fell first to his knees, then to his side, curling up as the spell dragged on.

Evil-Lyn leaned closer to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the woman's proximity. "Well?" she asked, speaking right into his ear. "Do you get the picture?" Duncan's jaws were locked tight, holding back the cry he wouldn't let loose. She kept her spell on him for a moment longer, then released it. For a moment he could not move, he could only lie limp and shaking on the floor. When he had mastered himself again, he climbed slowly back to his feet.

"I enjoyed that, Evil-Lyn," Tri-Klops said, grinning broadly at him. "Do it again!"

"Let's see what his answer is now," Evil-Lyn said.

"Who cares what his answer is!"

"Skeletor does," she said in an admonishing tone. "If you'd managed to rebuild that machine properly, he –"

They suddenly heard the sound of yelling, and Tri-Klops ran out into the hall to see what was going on. Man-At-Arms heard a distant cry from Beastman. "Intruders!"

Duncan drew in a deep breath to call out to whoever had come to rescue him, but unfortunately this gave Evil-Lyn ample warning. This time the pain lasted just long enough to send him to his knees, and then she knocked him out with a carefully aimed blast of her staff.

Stratos came first. He landed in the palace courtyard and ran into the infirmary, coming out again a moment later with Dorgan. Adam jumped to his feet and ran down to meet the party as they landed. Scanning the passengers in the wind raider, Adam was devastated to see that Duncan was not among them. His father's face was a mask of pain, and Buzz-Off rode in the vehicle rather than flying independently. Teela's face was wooden with anger.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously. Mekanek helped the king out of the wind raider, while two of the medics eased Buzz-Off out. One of his wings appeared to be injured at the base, where it joined his body. They carried him away towards the infirmary.

"Ram-Man got us into Snake Mountain, but we ran into trouble," Manny said. "They flanked us and we were lucky to get away."

"What about Duncan?" Adam demanded. "Where is he?"

Teela hopped out of the wind raider and headed towards the palace infirmary without speaking, following in Buzz-Off's wake. Adam watched her go worriedly, but then his father spoke. "We didn't even catch sight of him. And Manny's right. We're lucky we got out."

"Not that we didn't have to drag you by your hair," muttered Duorno, one of his father's bodyguards. Adam glanced up at him. It sounded like he wasn't the only one having issues with his bodyguards.

"Thank you, Duorno," Randor said sharply. "You have made your opinion on the subject quite clear enough." He pushed away from Mekanek, gesturing for him to see to the passengers in the second wind raider. With a worried look at his king, Mekanek did as he was ordered, but Adam could see that it was an effort for his father to stand at all.

"What's wrong, Father?" Adam asked.

"I'm fine," Randor said irritably.

"What are we going to do now?"

Dorgan appeared at his elbow and interrupted with his customary brusqueness. "Right now your father is going to come to the infirmary where I am going to treat that burn."

"Burn?" Adam exclaimed, heart leaping into his throat. The memory of his own skin being heated to the point of blistering made him shudder, and he looked down at the leg his father was favoring. The shreds of fabric concealed the injury, but the reddened and blistered flesh was visible if one looked carefully. He ducked under his father's arm on the opposite side from the injury, holding firmly when Randor tried to pull away. "Come on, Father, you need treatment."

"Adam, I'm fine," the king protested, but he didn't try to pull away again.

"You're getting treatment," Adam said, "and then you're telling me what we're going to do."

"We're going to regroup, and try to figure out what Skeletor wants."

Adam shook his head as guards held the doors open for them to enter the building. "Father, no demands have been delivered. Skeletor hasn't asked for anything."

His father didn't immediately respond. Adam glanced aside, wondering if the pain of walking was taking all his attention, but there was an abstracted look in the king's eyes. "No, he hasn't," the king said finally. "He said nothing of the kind when we met him at Snake Mountain."

Adam grimaced. "Then I'd say he already has what he wants," he said grimly.

Randor nodded just as grimly, and they were silent for the rest of the walk to the infirmary. Courtiers stopped and stared as they passed, then hurried off to what would no doubt be juicy gossip sessions behind closed doors.

Dorgan led them to a treatment room. Teela, having apparently satisfied herself that Buzz-Off's treatment was adequate, came in to join them.

Adam lowered his father to a stool, and Randor reached out to catch Teela's hand. "I'm sure he's fine, Teela," he said, clearly seeking more to comfort than to speak what he thought was the truth. She seemed to appreciate the effort, giving his father a fleeting smile.

"I am, too," Adam replied, stepping back to let Dorgan at his father's leg. He shook his head at his father's dubious expression and sighed. "When you kidnap a skilled technician, you don't hurt him." Adam really didn't like the thoughts he was having. "If he's not asking for a ransom, that means Skeletor wants something built. People work better when they're uninjured."

"My father would never work for Skeletor," Teela declared, glaring at Adam.

"I know that, and you know that, but does Skeletor know that?" A troubled look came into Teela's eyes. "I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have said anything."

"No, Adam, it's fine. I just – I want to break every bone in Skeletor's body."

And if Adam only had his sword, he'd be on his way to do just that.