Fifteen – 04

[This post is from Neve’s point of view.]

“Do you think I should?”  Tory’s hand covered hers, his calloused fingers flexing to squeeze hers.  He was so like his father, she reflected as she stared at his hand for a moment before she met his gaze.

“I think you should follow your heart,” she said softly, reaching with her free hand to cup his cheek in her palm.  “Isn’t that what your dad and I taught you?”

“Well, that and a bunch of survival skills.”  Tory smiled wryly, squeezing her hand again.  “I don’t understand any of this, Mum.  I mean—you were important a long time ago.  Still important now.  People think Dad’s a hero because he carries messages the way he does between—well, it seems like everywhere.  That’s not me.”  His brow furrowed.  “Lin’s more important than I am.  More special.  I guess them coming looking for him makes more sense to me.  Them looking for me just doesn’t.  I don’t have any powers or anything, just your bloodline.”

“And that’s important,” she said softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek.  “I know it doesn’t make sense—not entirely.  That’s my fault and it’s—oh, Tory.  We could stay up all night and I could try to explain, but I don’t know that it would help.”

“So you’re telling me to get some sleep and I’ll get answers from the source in the morning.”

“Kind of.”

He smiled, nodding slightly.  “Okay.  Okay, Mum.”  He let go of her hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek before he stood.  “I take it I shouldn’t go out fishing tomorrow morning, huh?”

Neve laughed and shook her head.  “Not if you want answers, no.  Find your uncle in the morning.  Phelan will tell you as much as you can before you meet with our visitors.”

“Visitors,” he echoed softly as he drifted toward the door.  “You say that like they’re not going to stay.”

“They’re not,” Neve said gently.  “They’re on a quest, and they’ve found what they’re looking for—at least part of it—but that’s only the beginning.”

Tory’s brows knit.  “Mum—”

“In the morning,” she said.  “Good-night, Tory.”

“Night, Mum.”

He slipped out and she stayed seated on the edge of the bed, staring at the space where he’d been, for a long, long time.

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This entry was posted in Ambrose Cycle, Book 8, Chapter 15, Story and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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