Rick Shelley: Son of the Hero

"You might want to take a few steps out to the balcony," Parthet said then, "as long as you feel up to it."

There was something in Parthet's voice that made me think that he had a specific reason for his suggestion. I started to ask, then changed my mind and just nodded. It wasn't a long walk, only a dozen steps, and there were people at either side of me, ready to catch me if I started to fall. I didn't. I made it all the way to the small balcony that looked down on the courtyard of Castle Thyme. The open space wasn't all that large, but there were several hundred people down there, looking up at the keep. There was a cheer when they saw me.

Tears ran down my face. I waved and tried to smile. All those people waiting to make sure that I was really recovering. I started to understand at least part of what had bound my father to Varay for all those years.

Then the sky darkened. There were no clouds. It was as if someone had put a polarizing filter over the sun. I looked up. So did Parthet. I guess that none of the people down in the courtyard saw the magic. The image of the Elflord of Xayber appeared in the sky, scowling fiercely enough to turn Medusa to stone. There were no audible words to his message, but the gist was something like Sooner or later, upstart, your ass is mine.