"Prince of the Prism" The king placed his arm on Ammon's shoulder, walking the entire length of the hall, and took his customary seat at the head of the table, urging Ammon to sit beside him. The king's chair, larger than any other, was encrusted with jewels and crystals which seemed to glow even brighter when he was seated. "Is there news of my mother? Have you found her?" Ammon asked excitedly as he looked hopefully at the king. "All we know is that she is being held somewhere and, at least for now, we believe she is safe." The king looked down and sadly shook his head. "You've heard something, haven't you?" Ammon asked cautiously. The king produced a neatly folded piece of parchment from inside his cloak and placed it on the table in front of Ammon. "This was found beside the door of my sleeping chamber early this morning." Ammon unfolded the parchment carefully and read the contents. "Isn't there anything we can do? Can't we find out who is responsible?