[This post is from Bryant Tapping’s point of view.]
Tory’s head whipped around and he squinted at Lin. “I thought you didn’t know anything.”
“I don’t,” he said. “Not for sure. Just—Tory. Just listen to him. We’ve heard these bedtime stories, too, just probably in different ways.”
Tory’s expression slackened. “Between you and my mother, I don’t know which direction to go in with any of this.”
“Just listen,” Lin said quietly. “I’m as interested in this as you are—and connected to this as you are.”
Bryant watched them both for a few seconds, the knots in his stomach growing ever tighter as the fear of how they might react increased steadily. While Lin’s quiet was reassuring, he wasn’t entirely certain that Tory was going to react well to what David was going to tell them, especially if what Bryant was starting to guess at might be true.
He’s the once and future that David’s been looking for. And Lin is another piece of that puzzle—the Taliesin That Will Be, I think, unless I miss my guess. He swallowed against a dry throat, sagging against the door’s frame. What if they reject this, though? What if they walk away?
It was back to the quandary that was making him queasy in the first place in that scenario, because in these scenarios, destiny didn’t take no for an answer. He wasn’t sure of the history of any of the people here trying to cram what was ‘meant to be’ back down destiny’s throat and that was another factor that worried him.
If anyone’s tried, succeeded, and not paid any kind of visible consequences…well, first I’d like to meet them. Then I’d like them to help us out here.
It was all he could do not to shake his head at himself.
“Fine,” Tory sighed. “What stories, then?”
“Legends of a warrior king and his sword,” David said quietly, wincing slightly as if he realized what he must sound like. “One destined to return.”
Tory stared at him for a few seconds. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish,” David said, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. “You have any idea how long we’ve been away from home looking for this? For—for maybe you?”
“I think you’re looking for my dad, not me,” Tory said, shaking his head slowly. “The sword you’re talking about is his, not mine. He’s carried it since before I was born—since he met my mother.”
“The lady of Avalon is your mother.”
“Neve Vaughan, princess of the Aes Dana is my mother. Maybe in some long ago yesterday she was the lady of Avalon. If she was, she never told me that story. She’s just tried to raise my sister and I the best she and my dad can.” Tory stood up, the chair creaking softly as he did. “You’re not looking for me. You’re looking for Cameron Mackenzie, the Dragon.”
“No,” David said quietly. “We’re searching for his son and heir. The Dragon helps make ready. The son is the one who makes it real.”