Traveling today, so no update.
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Twenty-three – 02
[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]
My throat tightened. “Because of Mom?”
When they’d gone, something had been afflicting my mother for a while by then, though no one seemed to know what it was. I’d heard whispers of it being linked to her talent, to her ability to peer into the future and see the possibilities—more correctly than not. It was a power linked to something, but no one ever seemed to know what that something was, and no one could figure out how to make her better once she’d started to get sick.
I tried not to remember those parts. I always tried to just remember her.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Carolyn said, her gaze straying to me for a few seconds before it drifted to the headstones. “Your father was determined to save her, no matter what. Your mother? She was determined to save all of us—or, at the very least, ensure the peace held a little longer.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “Like, I said, it’s complicated. When you were a baby, Marin brokered a peace with a lot of the nastiness in this world that was trying to overtake it and us. She forced a truce on them, bought us time. When your parents left, we could see signs of that truce being tested. Your parents both thought that their departure would help solidify the peace for a little longer—and they were right. They bought us another five years.”
“Until now.”
“Yes. Until now.”
Twenty-three – 01
[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The fact that Carolyn said it so softly, so gently, made it almost worse. Sitting in the grass in front of what was supposed to be his parents’ grave, I expected her to be angry—I expected all of them to be angry after I pulled my disappearing act and ventured off alone. I knew that they were worried about me, but they were worried about all of us, even themselves. They knew that something was out there, stirring. I knew it, too, I just hadn’t wanted to believe it until I’d gotten jumped in the ravine.
I still didn’t know what the vision I’d had down there meant, what I’d experienced meant. What was it, anyway? Some kind of dream or vision shared across time? A spot where reality folded enough that I’d glimpsed my parents as they’d been when they were barely older than me?
I stared at my hands and the journal in them. It was one of my father’s. I wasn’t sure why it was that particular one that I’d brought out here with me, but I had and I’d found myself thumbing through it, looking for answers I wasn’t sure I’d find anywhere.
I wasn’t even sure what the questions were anymore.
Carolyn sat down next to me, watching me for a few seconds before her gaze drifted to the headstone. “Are you okay?”
“They’re not there, are they?”
If the question startled her, she didn’t give any sign. She just sighed quietly. “How long have you known?”
My fingers tightened around the journal. “I don’t know. I think I’ve always suspected. There was just—none of it really made sense, you know? I knew Mom had been sick. But her and Dad at the same time?” I sighed and rubbed my face. “Something didn’t add up.”
“Almost everyone else believes it.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’ve never asked and just kind of let it go. But now…”
“But now you have questions.”
“I’ve always had questions. I just never asked them.”
“Are you going to ask them now.”
I closed my eyes for a second. “If I do, would you answer?”
“If I can,” she said softly. “I don’t know everything.”
I nodded slowly. “Do you know why?”
“Because they had to,” she said. “Because they had no choice.”
No Friday update this week—hopefully back to normal next week.
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Twenty-two – 06
[This post is from Artorius Mackenzie’s point of view.]
That, of course, was the worst of it.
If not me, then who?
The problem was, he couldn’t come up with a good answer. Unless it was someone completely unconnected to all of it, there really was no other option.
Tory just shook his head, turning to head back across the marsh, back toward the village. Suddenly the riverside wasn’t nearly as welcoming, wasn’t nearly so attractive a place to think.
You weren’t really coming out here to think. You were coming out here to escape what you’d already realized.
He’d gone two steps before Astrid was there at his side, falling in with him as he started back across the marsh. The look she shot him told him that she knew exactly what he was thinking and exactly the effect her words had on him.
“Tory, you already knew.”
“I came out here because I didn’t want it to be true.”
“Of course you did.” She shook her head. “That’s what we all do. We’re just lucky we haven’t had to face more than little things growing up. All of us know that our parents would’ve liked to escape some of the crazy themselves but that was never an option, now was it?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled as they tramped through the mud and the damp. He’d have to clean his boots when they got back. “It seems like they tried, too.”
“Maybe,” Astrid allowed. “But I don’t think they ever succeeded and in the end it probably would’ve been easier if they hadn’t fought it tooth and nail. So when do we leave?”
He stopped walking. “What?”
She went another step and pivoted back toward him. “When do we leave?”
“I don’t—”
“You don’t think we have to leave? Have to go somewhere on this quest to claim your destiny? You don’t think there’s some kind of war we’re going to have to fight? You’re dreaming, Tory.” She shook her head and started walking again. “Just tell me when. I’m with you.”
She left him standing there in the marsh below the hill, alone.
Twenty-two – 05
[This post is from Artorius Mackenzie’s point of view.]
“You are not making any sense and let me tell you, that is pretty annoying.”
His nose wrinkled and for a second he glared at Astrid. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“Are you? Are you really?” She leaned a little closer. “Because I seem to recall you being much more articulate and much more straightforward than this. You’re hedging. Why.”
“Because I’m terrified of what it means if I’m the one they’re looking for. Not just for me, but for all of you.”
“You said they think you might be somebody. Who do they think this somebody is?”
The question only made sense in context and Tory blew out a breath through his teeth, shaking his head slowly. “King Arthur reborn.”
“King Arthur reborn,” Astrid echoed, her tone holding a significantly heavy note of disbelief. “Like from all of those Round Table stories that you and Lin were always reading?”
“Something like that, except this is apparently the real thing.” Tory rubbed at his temple. “And the worst of it is, I actually believe that it might be a real thing. I’m just not convinced that I’m the one they’re looking for.”
“If not you, then who?”
The question was jarring. “What?”
“Seriously. Look at your pedigree, Tory. If it’s not you, then who the hell is it?”
Twenty-two – 04
[This post is from Artorius Mackenzie’s point of view.]
“Oh, that doesn’t sound ominous at all.” Astrid circled him slowly, arms still crossed and her brow furrowed as she stared at him. “Because, you know, it’s not like we both don’t know what the absolute largest question is.”
“Enlighten me, because I’m clueless.”
Astrid deadpanned, though the look in her eyes was the one she’d inherited from her mother. “What bothered you so much about all of this that you’re out here instead of back in the village doing all the stuff you usually do on a day like today?”
“On a day like today, I’d usually be out fishing by now.”
“Not when Lin’s gotten himself into recent trouble,” Astrid said, stopping square in front of him. “In that scenario, you’re with him. You’re always with him unless Kay’s waved you off. So what the hell gives, Tory? What’s going on?”
He sucked in a breath and tried to avoid her gaze, focusing instead on the river. It was hard, given that she stood nearly as tall as he did and she’d done a good job of planting herself directly in front of him—as if she’d known what he’d try.
“You can’t even look at me,” she said softly. “It must be bad.”
“Yes and no,” he murmured.
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
He blew out a quiet, annoyed breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. “Because this is damned hard.”
“If it was easy, you wouldn’t be out here, Tory.”
That was the rub, wasn’t it? He massaged his forehead between his brows. “The strangers came looking for something—someone.”
“They usually do, based on the stories. It was Uncle Phelan, wasn’t it?”
“I wish,” he muttered. “They were looking for me. Or, more precisely, someone they think I might be.”
“…what?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I know.”
No update today—several days after I expected them to be replaced, I finally have new windows in my apartment! However, this means that I have been several days in disarray due to moved furniture, etc. but should be back to normal on Wednesday.
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Twenty-two – 03
[This post is from Artorius Mackenzie’s point of view.]
“There are about to be about six hours of nasty storms rolling in and you’re out here?”
If it had been anyone else, he probably would have heard them coming. As it was, Astrid Sifsdottir could sneak up on any of them easily and with impunity. He wasn’t sure if it had more to do with who her parents were or how well they’d trained her to do what she did. Few people he’d ever met—save the members of the Wild Hunt—were better scouts and hunters than Astrid.
Tory glanced back over his shoulder at her and shrugged. “You’re out here. Guess you’re as crazy as I am.”
“Ha!” She came around the trunk of a tree and joined him on the riverbank, crossing her arms. “Only because I came looking for you.”
“Really.”
“Yes, really.” She regarded him with a piercing, arctic gaze that he was given to understand had come directly from Sif, though he’d never seen it himself. “You and Anne are off who the hell knows where when strangers show up in town minutes after Lin gets jumped by something in the ravines and then all of a sudden you can’t be found anywhere again? Seriously, I wanted your read on the whole thing, Lin’s back up at the village and so’s Anne. So where could you be? Here. Where you always come when you want to think. So what do you know?”
“Too much and not enough,” he said with a wry smile. “How long do we have before those storms hit?”
“At least an hour. Is that going to be enough time?”
“Don’t know,” Tory said. “Depends on what you ask.”