Chapter 3

Duncan was aware of a splitting headache as he woke up. His head lay cradled on a soft surface, but his body rested on some kind of rough stone floor. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up into Evil-Lyn's face.

"Gah!" he exclaimed, sitting up and shoving himself away, though his head protested the vigorous movements. He sat staring at her, breathing heavily. "What happened?" he asked.

"I knocked you out," she said smiling. She was sitting not far off on the floor, legs crossed, forming his recent pillow. She leaned back on her hands. "That tedious king of yours mounted a rescue expedition, but Skeletor would have been irritated to lose you."

"What happened?" Duncan demanded, standing up and looming over her. "What went wrong?"

She looked at him, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You are hardly in a position to be so authoritarian, Duncan dear," she said. "And I don't think I like your attitude." Duncan clenched his fists. Had anyone been captured? Injured? She gazed up at him as he continued to stand, glaring down at her. "Come," she said, patting the floor next to her. "Sit down here by me and maybe I'll answer your questions." She gave him a pointed look. "If you ask me nicely."

Duncan stared down at her, disgusted by the level of subservience she clearly desired of him. "I'll bet one of the others would answer my questions."

She shrugged. "Perhaps, but they might also beat you bloody in the process. And there's no guarantee that they'd tell the truth." He turned away toward the door. "And if you start to leave this room, I'll have to stop you," she added, her voice suddenly sharp. "This is your workspace, and Skeletor would be peeved if you left." Duncan stopped on the threshold. There was no point in getting hurt more than he already had been. After those three activations of her third glyph he already felt frazzled and odd. And the small of his back was tingling again.

Irritated but seeing the futility of resisting her at the moment, he went back and sat down beside her. She smiled and put her hand on his thigh. He clenched his teeth and said, "What happened?" She didn't say anything, but waited expectantly. "Please tell me."

She gave him a smirk. "Well, obviously, they failed to rescue you. They can't have been all that serious about it. He-Man didn't even show up." Duncan stiffened, alarmed. Why hadn't He-Man come? What happened to Adam? Not that he could ask her.

"Was anyone hurt?"

She shrugged again. "That king of yours was worse than useless. How much sense does it make to bring a man into battle who has to be guarded himself?" As she spoke she caressed his leg in lazy circles with a fingertip. Duncan waited impatiently. She was deliberately dragging this out to torture him. Perhaps if he didn't react she would give it up. "You should have seen how quickly they all hightailed it out of here after Tri-Klops burned him."

"What?" Duncan grabbed her wrist to stop her hand's movement. It was an injudicious choice. His joints seized up again, his hand clenched, vise-like, around her wrist.

She gave him an amused look. "Why, Duncan, I didn't realize you wanted to be so close." Rising to her knees, she shifted so that she was sitting in his lap, her legs wrapped around his hips. Then she reached around to place her hand on his back. This resulted in her pressing close against his chest and she lingered for a moment. "This is nice, isn't it?" she murmured in his ear, stroking her fingers up and down his back. She nibbled delicately on his ear, causing Duncan to breath in sharply in surprise. She chuckled, a deep sound in her throat. Then she reached down and lifted the back of his shirt and pulled it up so she could put her hand directly on his skin. "I hope you finish this project quickly. Skeletor has promised to give you to me." Duncan closed his eyes. His belief that her sexual behavior towards him was merely a ploy had been short-lived, but he had still held onto hope. Becoming Evil-Lyn's toy was not a fate he relished. She ran her hand slowly up his back to his left shoulder blade and said, "Release."

He let go of her hand as his joints released, and let his hands fall to his sides. If merely grabbing her hand to make her stop fondling his thigh counted as an attack, then shoving her off would certainly be one. She continued running her hands, both of them now, up and down his back.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to ignore what she was doing. "How did Randor get burned?" he asked, striving to keep his tone level and calm.

"Tri-Klops shot at him," she said casually, face still close to his ear. "It really just creased his calf, but his guards and those masters pounced on him and dragged him away. I think one of the masters got hurt, too, but I'm not sure which one."

"Who came?" he asked. "You said He-Man wasn't there, but who did come?"

She sighed and leaned back so that she could look him in the face. "You're being quite tiresome on this subject, you know. Quite killing the mood." That was fine with him. "Let's see, I believe that the actor was there, and the long-necked fellow. Ram-Man, the bug, and the feathery one. Oh, and, of course, stuffybeard himself."

"So Prince Adam didn't come?"

"The coward prince? Why would he come?" So where was Adam, Duncan wondered. She leaned in close again and kissed him lightly on the neck beneath his ear. "I don't really understand all this fuss over the boy. He's such a wimpy thing, and so whiny." Duncan growled low in his throat, he couldn't help it. "And yet you're very defensive of him."

"He's the crown prince."

"I know that, but I don't get it. You're his heir, right?"

"What of it?" Duncan knit his brows perplexedly.

"Well, if he dies, you'll be king one day. Surely the power appeals to you."

Duncan shuddered. "Not remotely," he replied frankly. "I don't understand this desire for power that you all have. Power is nothing but headaches. And people trying to take it away from you."

"So is that why you're so protective of the boy?" she asked curiously, leaning back again. "You don't want to be king so you protect the one thing standing between you and that position?"

"That, and the fact that I'm fond of him."

"Affection is irrelevant when considerations of power arise," Evil-Lyn said. "I have a thought for you. If you became king, I could take care of the headache parts of the job while you tinkered in your workshop."

Duncan stared at her, annoyed by the level of callousness she showed. "You do realize that what you're talking about so casually involves the death of my closest friend and his son."

"I don't understand what the issue is," she said perplexedly. "I'm not threatening to kill them, if that's what you think. Just, if they were to die, you have that open as an option."

"You're astounding!" he said, wrinkling his brows.

She leaned in close and kissed his neck, her hands stroking the bare skin of his back. "Thank you."

"I didn't mean it as a compliment," he growled. "Isn't Skeletor going to be annoyed by this? I mean, unless I'm greatly mistaken, this isn't an effort to get me to work on that wretched excavator."

"Skeletor's busy. And I don't know, if I told you I'd stop right now if you went to work, would you?" Her fingers still traced shapes on his back as she posed the question.

Duncan decided that his answer, a resounding yes, was not politic to share. Unwilling, however, to give her any notion that he did not object strenuously to her activities, he remained silent.

The sound of someone clearing his throat in the doorway made them both jump. They looked up to see Tri-Klops glaring down at them. Duncan clenched his fists on the floor and fixed his eyes on the opposite wall. This was humiliating. Evil-Lyn, however, just smiled at her colleague and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"This isn't getting that machine fixed," he growled, glaring at her.

She shrugged and stood up. "Oh well, I guess my fun will have to wait for later."

When she had backed up far enough that he wouldn't be standing up against her, Duncan rose as well. "Where do you keep the tools?" he asked Tri-Klops. The man walked over and flung up the lid of a chest that sat against the wall. It crashed open, and Tri-Klops stood over it, glaring at him. Duncan knew how he'd feel if he'd been forced to allow Tri-Klops into his own workshop, to use his tools and finish a job he hadn't managed to complete. He sympathized, but there wasn't anything he could do.

He walked over to the tool chest to see what he had to work with. "If you hadn't designed it so poorly, I wouldn't have had any trouble with it," Tri-Klops groused.

"I didn't design it," Duncan said mildly. That was –" he glanced aside at Evil-Lyn, "– Ovarn. The imposter." He bent to pick up a couple of diagnostic tools. Tri-Klops stiffened and continued to glare. He really hoped that his eye couldn't go off on its own. The witch snapped her fingers and the chair from her 'audience chamber' showed up behind her. She sat regally, clearly planning to watch him.

"What are you doing?" Tri-Klops demanded. "You don't need to stay."

"Oh, I think I do. How are you going to make him work?"

Tri-Klops smacked one fist into the other palm, looking back at Duncan. "There are ways."

"Yes, but would those leave him able to work?" Evil-Lyn asked silkily, getting up and walking over to Tri-Klops, tapping him on the chest. "You'll just have to put up with me."

Ignoring the byplay between the two minions, Duncan walked over to the excavator and started looking it over. He tested a couple of the power relays and found them dead. There was nothing obviously wrong on the surface, so he went back over to Tri-Klops' tool chest, hoping that the pair of them would be so focused on each other that he could safely disregard their presence. When he started to dismantle the excavator, however, Tri-Klops was standing over him instantly.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Duncan looked up at him, pretending he was just some kind of stupid supervisor. He'd dealt with those in the distant past, it was a fairly familiar situation. "Without taking it apart, I won't be able to find out what's wrong."

"What's wrong is that you're an incompetent oaf." Duncan turned back to his work, ignoring the irritable technician. Tri-Klops continued to hover over him, criticizing and making personal remarks. Duncan pulled the outer housing off and started looking at the wiring and connections. They appeared to be correctly matched, but there was something missing.

Finally, Duncan turned to him and said, "What do you think is actually wrong with the machine, Tri-Klops?"

The tech glared at him for a moment, then said, "I don't know."

"The explosion seems to have melted or destabilized most of the dendromine on the leads. Why didn't you replace it?"

"It shouldn't be required for the working of the device," Tri-Klops muttered. "It seems an odd choice for a digging machine anyway, since it reacts so poorly to heat."

Duncan shrugged. "I thought so myself, but it is an excellent conductor, and with sufficient shielding around the main mechanisms, it should be all right. It would have to be renewed frequently if the machine were used repeatedly, but I got the impression it was only meant to be used once."

"Poor planning," Tri-Klops said sourly. "That still doesn't explain why it won't even start, or why the power is interrupted."

"No," Duncan replied, rubbing his chin. "No, it doesn't. Did you test the power supply?"

"Yes, and it's functioning fine."

They started discussing various tests that Tri-Klops had attempted and what the results had been. He'd evidently examined the device very carefully before his tampering with it had caused the explosion that had destroyed it, and so recreating it, especially having salvaged some of the parts, hadn't been too difficult. But given the way Duncan had set the explosives, he knew that Tri-Klops hadn't been able to look too far inside. Together they tore the excavator down its component parts, discussing methods of rebuilding it. Deep in the technical details, they both forgot themselves in the task.

He was startled out of his absorption when Evil-Lyn tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked up, blinking, she said, "Is it an occupational hazard of the engineer?"

"What?"
"This complete disregard of anything but the job?" Tri-Klops stood up stretching, and Duncan became aware that his neck was cramping slightly from the position he'd had to hold his head in for the last half-hour or so.

"What time is it?" Tri-Klops asked.

"Dinner time," she said, amused. "You've worked through the entire afternoon and well into the evening. Even engineers need food and sleep." She bent and took Duncan by the arm. "If you won't stop, you'll have to do without him for awhile, Tri-Klops. I'll return him to you early in the morning."

"Yes," cackled Skeletor who had just entered at the doorway. "But you might as well knock off, too, Tri-Klops, if Man-At-Arms isn't going to be here."

"I can manage just fine!" Tri-Klops declared.

"Come with me," Skeletor ordered. Tri-Klops glared mutinously, but, nevertheless, he walked over to join Skeletor. "And, Evil-Lyn, just be sure that Man-At-Arms is capable of working tomorrow morning."

She gave a low laugh and smiled at her liege lord. Duncan squared his shoulders and tried to ignore the appraising look Skeletor was giving him. After a moment's scrutiny, the lord of Snake Mountain turned in a swirl of fabric and left, shadowed by a rebellious Tri-Klops. A part of Duncan wanted to call him back as Evil-Lyn threaded her arm through his.

"Come along, lover," she murmured. "I have food and a comfortable bed ready for you." He looked at her out of the side of his eyes. A bed? He shuddered.

"But, Adam, if you're right, what does Skeletor want my father to build?" Teela asked, pacing the length of the king's room in the infirmary. "I mean, he has Tri-Klops. Why does he need my father?"

"Maybe it's something only your father can build," suggested Mekanek.

"Or maybe," Adam said, thinking hard, "Just maybe it's something that he's already built."

"What do you mean?" Teela asked.

"The excavator!" Randor exclaimed. "Yes, that could be it."

"So he is still after the Hand of Umalar," Stratos said. "And we still don't know what it does."

"I've gotten closer to an answer," Adam said, though of late his research into the matter had been fairly dilatory. After all, they had the imposter in custody and Skeletor never stuck to anything for very long. "At least I think so."

"Good, Adam. You keep at it." Randor looked thoughtful. "Is anyone working on Duncan's prototype?"

"No, your highness," Stratos said. "When the problem in Ebelar came up, Man-At-Arms put it on the back burner and he hasn't gotten back to it."

"Well, I don't think we'd better wait," Randor said. "We don't know how close Skeletor's device is to completion. Send for Man-E-Faces and Roboto." Mekanek stepped to the door and gave the order.

"My father wouldn't work for them!" Teela declared angrily, glaring at the king. "Even if –"

"Teela!" Adam exclaimed. "No one's saying he would, but –"

"Actually," Randor said, holding up a hand to quiet both of them. "I would imagine he is. They might kill him otherwise, and Duncan is wise enough to know that simply working on a machine doesn't mean much."

"But, if Man-At-Arms builds something –"

Randor reached out and patted Adam on the shoulder. "I didn't say he'd do his best."

"So when are we going after him again?"

"First I'm going to try negotiating for him," Randor said. He raised a hand again to forestall Adam and Teela's replies. "We don't know for certain why Skeletor is holding him, and they'll be ready for an attack now. When we rescued Adam, we were lucky and they were unprepared."

"But, Father –"

"Adam, you'd best return to your research. Have the new books come from Dovenar, yet?"

"Yes, just this morning," Adam said, sighing in exasperation.

"Teela, make sure the guards are ready for anything. Particularly for an attack on the palace, an attack on Grayskull, or an attempt to dig up the Hand of Umalar." Teela nodded, her eyes worried but her expression determined. She squeezed Adam's shoulder and left the room. "Stratos, step up the air patrols. I want a patrol to over fly that area at least once every twenty minutes." Stratos nodded and left immediately to carry out his king's command. "Mekanek, let the rest of the masters know that they need to be ready to take action on a moment's notice. That means everyone needs to get plenty of rest and eat meals at the appropriate times. You know what I expect." Mekanek saluted the king laconically and also left.

"Adam?"

"Father, we need to do something more than 'negotiating' about Duncan," Adam said pleadingly. "Skeletor's minions are brutes! We don't know what they're doing to him."

"You're the one who said they wouldn't hurt him, Adam, and I think you're right."

Adam shook his head. "They wouldn't hurt him permanently, but he won't just give in, Father, you know that. And there's plenty they can do that wouldn't interfere with his ability to work."

His father closed his eyes, and put a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Believe me, Adam, I know. I don't like it any better than you do, but we can't risk lives if there's another way."

"You did for me," Adam protested.

"That was different, Adam."

"How?"

"Well, for one thing, you're sixteen, not an adult, and not a soldier." Adam glared. "Second, you were severely weakened and vulnerable, and we couldn't afford to wait or your condition might have worsened. Furthermore, we knew he was actively trying to kill you." Well, that was true, Adam had to admit. "And," his father added more gently. "No matter how much it distresses you, your position does make a difference in these situations. As the crown prince, you have to –"

"I know, I have to survive." Adam looked at the floor. "I'm sorry I said all that earlier. I didn't mean it."

Randor snorted. "Yes, you did. And some of it is true."

Shifting uncomfortably, Adam asked, "Some of it?"

"You haven't been safe at the palace, son, and I'm not surprised that you don't feel secure." Adam looked at the floor again. "You're still having nightmares, aren't you?" Adam didn't say anything, but his father didn't need a verbal response. He squeezed Adam's shoulder. "They'll pass, son."

"They've gotten less frequent, anyway," Adam said.

"And as for the other, Adam, you're my son and I love you. I would do anything to protect you."

That didn't really answer the issue, but Adam didn't care. "I know, but I can't stand just waiting." "Adam, the one thing you can do that would really help out right now would be to return to your research and find out what that thing does." Adam nodded reluctantly. "I know it doesn't seem like you're doing much, son, but it's necessary, and I don't know that anyone else could do it. You said that even the Sorceress doesn't know what the Hand of Umalar does."

Adam shrugged. That had been a really alarming surprise. She knew it was powerful, that it was dormant and that it was evil, but she didn't know what its purpose was. And the books in her library hadn't held anything useful. "I'll go see what I can find."

He went to the room near the palace library that he'd taken for his own study. It had two small windows that let in the light, and his father had had the palace carpenters install shelving for him on three of the walls. The books from Dovenar were piled on the corner of his table. Adam sat down, pulled a book toward him and started to skim.

A servant brought him his dinner hours later, and he ate without paying much attention to his food, busily taking notes on the references he was finding. He was getting close, he knew it, if not to the actual information, then to finding out which book contained the information. He just hoped it was a book he could find, not something long since destroyed or hidden away in a book stall somewhere, molding into ruin. Or worse yet, tucked on some shelf in Skeletor's library.

He sighed, turned the page and read on.