Chapter 17

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“So we just can’t let him drink any more,” Dynan said, shivering despite the blanket Dain had wrapped around him. They were sitting in front of a blazing fire in the parlor next to Marc’s bedroom. Geneal was in with him now, trying to calm him, after being summoned by the guards when they had all stopped breathing.

“That’s right. Not to that kind of excess anyway. It’s not like he did before, but now we know he can’t get drunk again. Ever.”

“You think it’ll be that simple?”

Dain tossed another log on the fire then got back under his own blanket, fighting off the perception of cold. It wasn’t that they’d really gotten wet and nearly frozen to the bone, but the mind had a way of paying back for such abuses.

“No, but it’s a step in the right direction. Getting him to believe it won’t be any easier if you can’t accept it. I know it’s hard. I know it scares you to death when you suddenly land in that cell. If you can just change your first reaction, or maybe your second reaction, what happens after that will go a lot easier on you and everyone involved. Dynan, I hate that place more than you will ever be able to understand, but I know that Marc won’t hurt me there, or anywhere else. He won’t hurt you either.”

“No. He just chased me around the damn barn. He kept telling me to run, except I couldn’t. He might not mean to hurt us, Dain, but it feels the same way to me. When he pulled me into the barn, I thought I was going to die from fear alone. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“I can stand it because it’s happened to me more than you, and I can see the difference. Everything Maralt did to you in the Marleen’s barn, he tried out on me first.” He shook his head then, shivering again. “All that wraith shit. Enough to give you nightmares for the rest of your life. Wraiths and Dragons.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Well, you know, Loren is real. So is Marc. Stands to reason...”

“Don’t say that either.”

“Remember how Kamien used to tell us tales of wraiths and what they could do to people? Stories meant to scare little children into behaving.”

“I remember. Worked.”

“That’s what Maralt was. A wraith. Thief of life. Stealer of souls.” Dynan started shaking his head. “Don’t want to think about that do you?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s what Maralt was trying to do to Marc. What he meant for him to become. Not an adept. Being an adept is an inherent, natural process. What Maralt turned into was an abomination. That’s what Marc has to realize, what he has to fight off, what he has to see the difference between. I’m not sure he does, or if he can right now. He has to somehow fight off this terrible influence and learn what being an adept really is.”

“Can he?”

Dain wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t sure any more. Granted, he knew the cause of this last set back and could prevent it from happening again. He thought for Marc that it might be too late to understand, or accept such a failure.

“I think we need to get help, find out who these people are who trained Carryn and Maralt, and get Marc to go to them.”

“He thinks they want to take him the same way he took Maralt,” Dynan said.

“I know, but I’m not sure he’s right about that. It doesn’t make sense for one thing, after everything he did, that they should just say, well, you messed it up even though you got the bad guy. Sorry, you’re next. They showed him what to do.”

“I know, and then Maralt got a hold of him, and twisted everything around. I want to find them too, and I started looking for something about them, but I’m not sure where to even look.”

Dain was frowning then “I remember...There was something about the Alcasians.”

“What?”

“They went to Cadal because of the adepts to stop them. The Alcasians attacked before this one adept, the leader, could get enough support, or power or something like that. He was the first. He was...” His voice faltered. “He was Maralt,” he said finally. “His forefather, joined one to the next, and he had a brother.”

“Marc.”

Dain nodded. “They hated each other. One for what the other had turned into, and the other because his brother wouldn’t join him. Who know how far back this goes. Now, today, we’re left to finish what they started. That’s why you were sent to Cadal, Dynan. To find Marc Talryn and bring him here. That’s why Carryn sent you to Cadal.”

“It wasn’t Carryn’s idea though. Not to begin with. It was Drake’s.”

“I don’t think these people are the kind to be shy about planting a suggestion. In a way, they’re a lot like Maralt. They use adept methods. Memory loss, rearranging memories, that kind of thing. I guess the only difference is their intention, and they wouldn’t cause pain the way Maralt did. Carryn probably knew in some way. She had to agree to it.”

“Except everything in the Book of Legends indicates that adepts arrived on Cadal and started a Conquest that destroyed the planet. They consider the Alcasians almost heroes for attacking because they stopped the adepts. This is from a book that Loren gave me; one of the reasons she knew about me so easily. That’s one thing. Cadal’s official history doesn’t mention the Conquest at all. Like it never happened. Well, except for the Book of Ages, which they just now decided it was all right for everyone to find out about.”

“It’s a place to start. Maybe if you can find out more about Cadal and what happened there, it’ll lead you to our mystery mentors. I think we need these people. Marc needs them.”

“But he’s terrified of them,” Dynan said.

“All he remembers is that they told him they’d get him if he did things the way Maralt did. I can’t believe that they’re so unforgiving that they won’t understand that he didn’t have a choice. They made mistakes in this too, otherwise, Marc would have been able to manage with Maralt with less trouble. I’m going to keep doing what I can, but if this keeps happening to him, he’s going to lose his mind. Maybe after tonight, he already has.”

“Guess he didn’t appreciate having to save us when we were trying to stop him.” Dynan smiled for a moment, but shook his head.

“Some rescue,” Dain said, frowning slightly, but he smiled the next instant. “That was pretty brave of you to jump in the way you did. That really surprised me.”

Dynan glanced at him, then shook his head. “I thought we were both dead again. I’m getting a little tired of it.”

“Me too. I thought the same thing, except it seemed the next instant, he grabbed me and I was fine.” Dain frowned again. “What did he do to me to make that possible? I mean, I remember trying to get up to the surface, and all that water coming in. Then he grabbed hold of me, and I was suddenly all right, and I was holding onto a rope while he went back for you.”

“Same here. It’s not the first time either. He did the same thing when I was dying while Maralt was chasing you around. It’s really hard to remember, but I feel like he was there with me almost constantly.”

“Where?”

Dynan shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I knew it once, but I can’t—”

“—remember. Them again.”

“He was so desperate for me to live. I remember that. He took my hand, and suddenly I felt better. That’s not right. I felt...”

“Reborn?”

“Yes. Healed.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

Dynan started at that. “You’re right. It’s better than it has been in days. How can he do that?”

“Giving strength instead of taking it.”

“The reverse of what he did to you tonight.”

Dain nodded. “If he can remember how he did it when he saved us, he may be able to apply the same thing to himself, which would help keep what happened tonight from happening again.”

“Do you think he even knows how?”

“Probably not,” Dain said. “But knowing that he can, may go a long way to boosting his confidence.”

“My not losing it when we get pulled into these nightmares he walks around with would help too. Out here, I can sit and logically go through it, but when it happens...” He shook his head. “I can’t think. I can’t stop being afraid, and I hate him for letting this happen when I know I shouldn’t.”

“I hated him too, and Marc knew it. But I came to realize fairly quickly that first, he didn’t have to hold on to me, and second he wasn’t strong enough to completely withstand what Maralt was doing to him. I watched him change from a reasonably confident person to someone who didn’t know if he was going to live to the next minute, and terrified if he did live, he’d turn on everyone he cared about. He’s still facing the same fears, and I haven’t noticed any great decline in the pressures he’s facing as Lord Chancellor. We’ve had Westiben, we’ve had Kamien’s funeral, Alse, the Market Square, the Murians, the Governor’s meeting, and Alexia.”

Geneal came out of Marc’s bedroom then with her medic bag in hand. She looked tired, and worried. “He’s asleep. Finally,” she said, dropping down on the couch between them.

“How is he?” Dynan asked.

She shook her head. “All this grief has been piling up on him, coupled with acute exhaustion. A normal person couldn’t function under those circumstances.”

“Normal?” Dain said, smiling at her. “Meaning we aren’t?”

“Yes, exactly. He’s still recovering from physical wounds, mental torture, and now the effects of alcohol, critolin, and the ibodar you gave him. I know, you explained why you did. It’s a lot for him to manage. If I’d been thinking clearly, I never would have allowed you to make him Lord Chancellor. He can’t do it right now, Dynan. I’m sorry. I know you probably can’t afford to have this happening.”

“It’s all right, Geneal.”

“I’m going to take over for him until he’s better,” Dain said. “Except I’m not so sure we want him to know that.”

“Yes, that might totally push him off the edge.” Dynan smiled over at him.

“I don’t think he’ll object too much to having his schedule lightened,” Geneal interrupted before Dain could answer. “But not having anything to occupy his time won’t do him any good either.”

“I’ll make sure he’s got something to do,” Dain said, making a face at his brother.

“I also want Marc to start seeing Dr. Riesch.”

Dain was surprised when Dynan started shaking his head before he could. “I don’t think so, Geneal.”

“I know that neither of you particularly like Dr. Riesch, but—”

“That’s not it,” Dynan said. “Remember Sadek? Marc won’t react well to Dr. Riesch. Not under these circumstances.”

“No, he wouldn’t. All right. Then I’ll talk to him myself, and have Dr. Riesch consult. Now, I want both of you to get some sleep. I’ll have a schedule Marc can probably tolerate for you in the morning. Unless you want me to put you both on that same schedule, you’ll go to bed now. Dynan, your brace.” She looked at him pointedly, then left them.

“I’m going to stay...” Dynan said at the same time as Dain and his brother smiled.

“I’ll stay up. You get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Marc. Make sure he’s not having any more bad dreams. Here, stretch out.” He helped arrange the covers and cushions to make him comfortable. Dynan was already having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“You need to sleep too,” he muttered.

“Later. I’ll be all right,” Dain said easily. “No bad dreams.”

“How do you do it?” Dynan asked. “You can’t keep this up forever, Dain.”

“Don’t you know? I’m indestructible. Go to sleep.”

“No, you’re not,” he said and drifted off. Dain waited a while and when he found his brother’s dreams troubling, he changed them to something less sinister. He did the same with Marc, though it was harder and took longer.

That dealt with, he moved to the Lord Chancellor’s study. He used his own access code, which gave him entry to everything Dynan could get into, including the Lord Chancellor’s files. Fighting back a yawn, he found all of Marc’s lists, and saw how much he’d been trying to manage on his own. Dain shook his head, and shuffled about half of it down the line of command, smiling because a lot of it went to Ralion.

“That was easy,” he said. “Now, let’s see what we have left. Check on security for the Governor’s Ball. Ralion can do that too. Finance Ministry about levies. I always love talking to Finance. Maybe I can con them into giving me more of an allowance since we are still completely broke. I got an allowance when I was fifteen. There’s got to be a better name for that. Ag Guild. Transport Guild. What does he want with them? Probably needs to talk to them about IPTS. Trevan can do that. What are you doing, Trevan? Going out on a system tour day after tomorrow. Fun for him. Well, he can just talk to IPTS and report before he leaves. Sorry man, I know you have a busy day planned, but that’s the breaks.

“What else? Talk to Arlon. I’d be happy to talk to Arlon. I’d be happier to see Arlon executed. Do we have an order for that yet? Yes. There it is. What does Marc want to talk to Arlon about? Logue and Aldridge. Like that little bastard is going to tell him anything. Forget talking to Arlon. Let’s just extinguish his miserable little life and the others will show their ugly faces soon enough. Well, that’s tomorrow, today, except for appointments. Not too much there. Marc can reschedule those. I’m supposed to go into town though. That could be a little tricky. I’ll do that first thing in the morning then. Kill Arlon at midday, and then deal with the rest of this mess. Next day, Danetha arrives. I just bet Dynan is taking her to the Governor’s Ball that night.”

Dain leaned back in the chair, grimacing at that thought. “That ought to go over real well. Some of our esteemed Governors might pop a vessel. If she’s anything like her mother, Dynan is in for a night. He’s got more women problems than ought to be allowed. Have to wonder how that happened.”

Dain shook his head, propped his feet up on the desk and kept looking over Marc’s schedule. As the days marched toward Coronation Day, that schedule seemed to get easier to manage. There were even a few days where there wasn’t much written in, but Dain knew that would change.

“Regional reports due to Finance. That’s from today’s business. Look at all these damn Ag Guild meetings he’s got in here. Must be about our lack of food.” He grunted. “Speaking of food, I’m hungry.”

He shrugged at that, thinking he’d get something to eat later. “Marella is coming in next week. That’ll be nice. Bet she’s just as beautiful as ever. Palace Ball. A damn formal dinner just about every night until then. Why don’t they go home and come back for the coronation? Oh man, look at that. Dynan is going to be out on Approachment. I’d forgotten that part.”

He set the comboard down, thinking his brother had forgotten about it too. Six days of Approachment, where the citizens of Cobalt could see their future King, talk to him if they wanted, complain, or otherwise speak their mind. Their father had done it, and Dain remembered it as a grueling schedule to keep. They couldn’t spread it out either, as tradition would have it. The Heir to the Throne spent six days immediately prior to his crowning out among the people. The Palace would be filling up at the same time with the rest of the system leaders arriving with their entourages. Lorton Kyle, and Trayanna Moren, and then another Palace Ball to honor them. A Guild Ball and then Coronation Day followed.

“Can’t forget that one. We’ll be lucky if any of us are still standing by then.”

“You’ll be standing, Your Highness,” Meg Wrinn said, startling him as she bustled into the room with a tray of food in hand. “As long as you eat proper and get some sleep every now and again, you’ll all make it just fine. It only seems so hard now, but in time that will change too. I thought you might be getting hungry.”

“You read my mind,” he said, kissing her hand after she’d set out the meal. “Thank you.”

“Thurmond and Gable will be on hand to serve your brother and the Lord Chancellor when they wake, and you’re welcome.”

She leaned and kissed him on top of his head like she had on so many mornings, on so many days all his life. He stopped her when she turned to go, and stood. Meg was more a surrogate mother than any of the string of caretakers assigned to watch over him. She’d always been there, and her constant presence made everything seem less troubling. He pulled her into his arms and held her.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Meg. You keep telling me we’re going to make it. I think I can believe it then.”

She smiled up at him and patted his face. “You’ll be all right, Dain. Whenever you doubt it, I’ll be here to remind you. Now, get to your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Dain did that, consuming every morsel of food she provided. He looked over the schedule again, and inadvertently discovered yet another of Marc’s lists. This one contained a collection of names and nothing else. Ames Lithford and Lyle Dowd were the most recent additions, but Logue Riztrin and Aldridge Faulk were also included; a grouping that didn’t make sense. Liselle’s name was there too, with Lady Juleta Gurrell. Creal and Admiral Westiben completed the list. There wasn’t an explanation as to what Marc wanted to know about these people, so Dain had to make a note to ask.

He frowned then, seeing how impossible it would be to keep him from finding out what they were doing, and decided it would only look worse to him if they tried to do anything behind his back. He made another list for himself of all the people he needed to talk to about Marc and his state of mind. Ralion, being the First Minister and Marc’s primary assistant was at the top. Dain wasn’t looking forward to talking to him about anything. He saw that it was close enough to a reasonable waking time to get Ralion up, asking that he meet him in the training room. Dain left instructions for Thurmond and the guards, and returned briefly to his rooms to change.

A few minutes later, he was down on the sub-floor of the Royal wing, and with his guard watching, working up a healthy sweat.

“You could join me, you know,” he said while he ran on a track, taking it easy with a slow trot. His lower left side still ached slightly, but the rest of him felt fine. “Wouldn’t hurt you boys to do this on a more regular basis.”

Roland continued to scan the empty room. “I completed my daily regimen of exercise this morning before I came on duty, Your Highness.”

“Really?” Dain smiled for a moment, then turned at the sound of the door opening. Avry and Messel came in with two other guards, Mikk Jorg and Jon Athen, all of them dressed for a workout. They were young and big. They all stopped when they saw him. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” he said under his breath. Roland bit back a smile. “Great. Misery loves company.”

He glanced at Avry, and was met with what could only be considered a glare, but the guard lowered his gaze quickly. Rules were rules after all, and these men followed them. Dain wondered how long he would last against just one of them. Avry watched him periodically, and Dain had a feeling he’d be finding out.

He kept to a steady run for a while until he started to feel winded and stopped. The others ran at a pace a good bit faster. Dain wondered briefly if they increased the normal settings for his benefit. They were quiet too, abnormally so, reminding him of more than a few occasions on the Exile Base when the men would clam up whenever he and Dynan were around. He hadn’t like it then, and still didn’t. He didn’t know what to do about it though. Never had.

He retrieved a pair of flex grips, set them and started through a routine that hadn’t changed since Boral had ingrained it into his mind. A flash hit him, of a room that held a medical pump and old, decrepit furniture. Memories crashed through him, the place, the people he’d brutally murdered, Maralt standing over him. He looked at the flex grips in his hand and would have put them down, but other memories came through, of Boral and Roth and Brendin Moch, all going over the same routine. They used to joke around about the strength of the charge that would hit if Dain made a mistake and sometimes took a wager on whether or not it would happen. There came a day, finally, where none of them bet against him, and the memory made him smile.

He decided to stop thinking at all and started paying attention to what he was doing.

Avry joined him before the others finished their run. “What brings you down here, Your Highness?”

Dain considered telling the guard of his re-assignment, then shook his head. “Been awhile. I’ve been up all night and I needed to clear my head. When are you on duty?”

“Three hours, with King Drake.”

“I’m going into town when I finish here. Want to come along?”

Avry stared at him. “You’re what?”

“I got permission this time. I’ll clear it with Kyle.”

“I’m not your guard any more.”

“If you think you’re up to it, Avry, you just let me know.” He set the grips down, and moved to the weapons rack. The first sword didn’t balance right in his hand. The second one he didn’t bother picking up, but the third suited him, as did the fourth. He selected both, set one aside then picked up his sheathed sword and tossed it at the guard. “While you’re making up your mind, clean this up for me.” He turned to the others. “All right, who’s first?”

Avry turned, practically shoving the emerald sword at Roland, almost lunging for the weapon Dain had left out. The guard’s first mistake was turning. Dain didn’t wait for him to arm himself. The moment Avry moved, Dain sprang at him. The second mistake was picking up the pre-selected weapon, a fact that was mirrored in Avry’s face when he realized that the sword was badly balanced. Dain didn’t know if he’d noticed the fracture up next to the hilt. He’d find out about that soon enough.

A few years and quick reflexes allowed the guard to bring the sword around in time to stop him. Their blades locked, forcing Avry to use both his hands to stop Dain’s forward momentum, and it didn’t work.

Roland jumped back out of the way, stumbling slightly as Dain pushed Avry. He didn’t want to let him get his balance, hoping to avoid a prolonged match. The quicker Dain could finish with him, easily the most skilled of them all, the sooner the other guards would realize they shouldn’t even bother, and the faster he could get on with his day. At least, that’s what Dain hoped they would think.

He maneuvered his leg behind Avry as he tried to step back, and the guard fell. Avry rolled immediately back toward him, recovering enough from surprise to remember his training. Dain was ready for that though, got out of his way and around him. He brought his sword down to the guard’s throat and stopped.

“I’ve had enough. Have you?” he asked in a mild voice. Avry didn’t think so, twisting his weapon up to parry Dain’s away from his neck. Dain grabbed the sword, mostly because he didn’t want it to accidentally strike Avry when it broke, and brought his own weapon down hard. The blade snapped off, leaving Avry with just the hilt and staring in shocked surprise.

Dain relaxed his stance, and stepped back. He looked at the other guards, pulling in one measured breath after the other. He tossed the broken blade on the floor, and felt a trickle of blood drip down to his fingers. “Next?”

None of them moved. Then none of them were looking at him the next instant, but at Ralion as he approached. He’d come in silently and had seen enough to understand what was taking place. Dain wanted to retract that last openly issued challenge, fearing Ralion would accept it. He saw by every other expression in the room that the guards’ understood the existence of that possibility and the reasons it could happen. As First Minister, Ralion was also their commander, and he didn’t look too pleased with any of them.

Avry picked himself up off the floor and came to attention, still holding the hilt of his broken sword. Dain was trying not to breathe hard, knowing he couldn’t fight Ralion. He would anyway, which would negate the lesson he’d just taught the guards. He didn’t play by the rules. Ralion already knew that.

It seemed the First Minister didn’t want a fight either, not then at least, because he turned to Avry instead. He held out his hand for the hilt and the guard quickly gave it to him. He hefted it for a moment, then picked up the blade.

“Let me guess. He left this out and you went for it,” Ralion said. Avry nodded silently, lowering his eyes. Ralion frowned at him, glancing down briefly, and over at Dain. “You’re bleeding on the floor again.”

“You—” Avry was staring again. “You knew that blade would break.”

Dain nodded mildly. “I knew if I hit it along the splinter I saw, that it would break.” He took the shaft back from Ralion, looking at the jagged edge where the metal had sheared. “Can’t trust these practice blades.”

“You wanted to see me?” Ralion said.

“Yes.” He stopped abreast of Avry. “Don’t wear your uniform. You either, Roland. Meet me at the north entrance in half an hour.”

He nodded to Ralion to follow and went back to shower and change. He explained briefly what had happened with Marc, what they planned, and what Ralion was expected to do until the Lord Chancellor was able to resume his duties. While he listened, Ralion pulled over a medic kit and checked the wound in Dain’s left hand.

“When I get back from town, I’m going to talk to him, if he’s awake and coherent. If not, I’ll talk to him when I can. We don’t want this to look like we’re trying to hide this from him.”

Ralion nodded, finished sealing the cut, and put away the medic kit. “You’re going into town?”

“Sanctioned by High Command himself. He said he didn’t want to know when, so I’m going to try and get back before he wakes up. He’s in with Marc. Look over what I dumped on your desk. Let me know if it’s too much.”

“All right. Is that all?”

“We’re losing Arlon at midday. I thought you might like to know.”

“I’ll be there.” He stood, turning to leave.

“Ralion.”

“I don’t think we want to get into this right now, Dain.”

By the look of him, he didn’t want to be in the same room with him. “I wanted to thank you for not picking up a sword and beating me up with it.”

Ralion looked back at him, eyes glinting in the half-light. “Whenever you think you’re up for it, just let me know.”

Silence followed the echo of the door closing as Ralion left, and Dain thought that there wouldn’t be any way out of it. If a duel was what it took to make Ralion feel better about going back to Geneal, then Dain would just have to let it happen. He’d been beaten up by men angry over women before. It didn’t seem like such a high price to pay if it meant getting his friends back.

“He wants to fight me for you,” he said to Geneal later after he’d gotten back from Rianamar and when she came up to check on Marc. He was still dreamlessly asleep.

“What?”

Dain smiled, having expected her reaction. “I want you to let him. There’s more to this than I think you understand. This goes back to my having ‘won’ you in the first place. He was in love with you then too.”

“I am not going to let the two of you get into some ridiculous brawl over me.”

“Why not? It’ll work, you know. Look, I don’t expect you to understand. This has been coming for a long time, but before I do this, I’d like some assurance that the two of you will get back together.”

“So you’re going to let Ralion beat you?”

“I didn’t say that. Right now, I’m hoping he doesn’t want an audience.”

“No. I’m not going to let you do this. No.”

He looked at her. “I wasn’t exactly asking for permission either, Geneal. It’s too late to get out of it anyway.”

“This sort of thing went the way of the Ages long ago, Dain. It’s ridiculous.”

“And what we have now is this supposedly civilized, sterile method of choosing a wife that only involves who gains more politically. I think I like the old ways better.”

“A duel.”

“For the hand of the fair maiden. Yes.”

“Except you intend to lose.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What happens if you win?”

“You’re stuck with me.”

She frowned for a minute. “I suppose I could do worse.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said, and kissed her cheek lightly. “I’m going to wake Dynan, and then I need to get downstairs for a bit. Arlon’s taking the walk today.”

“When?”

“Midday.”

“I’ll be there.”

Dain smiled at that, and unmercifully roused his brother off the couch. He waited for him to wake enough so that he could keep track of Marc’s dreams, and once he was managing it, left him for the Lord Chancellor’s office. Finance was waiting for him. They spent the next few hours going over payment schedules, what was acceptable and what wasn’t, looking at numbers and figures until his head ached.

Luncheon was announced and Dain remembered Arlon. With unexpected reticence, he left the office, not entirely understanding the chill that grew with each step he took down the main hall. Perhaps there was some psychologically twisted reason he suddenly didn’t want Arlon dead. He reached the door to the dungeon, and froze.

It hadn’t occurred to him that if he meant to witness this death, he’d have to walk down there again. Stupid of him not to realize that. Now he didn’t think he could go through the door, and he felt cowardly for it. He started to turn around when Roland went to the door guard. “Your keys, sir.”

Without question, forgetting about the rules for a moment, the guard handed over his set of keys, glancing at Dain for just a second before returning to attention. Roland presented the keys, putting them into his hand when he didn’t immediately take them.

“All right,” Dain said looking down at them, his fingers closing reflexively. He had a way out. That helped. “These ... these work on everything, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness, and your access code as well.”

He nodded again, trying to battle down fear and opened the door. It took more courage than he thought he possessed to lock it behind him.