04.10.08
The End.
Nathan steeled himself and rapped on the door. It swung open before he’d even finished knocking.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Dr. Cain said, ushering him in. The Pendragon looked much the same as always, though she’d cut her hair and was female today.
The two stared at each other for a long moment, then Dr. Cain folded her arms. “You told me decades ago that you needed to speak to me sometime. I am assuming this is that time, so speak.”
Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Something dark deepened Dr. Cain’s black eyes. “Whatever it is, it must not be good, else you would not have waited until after you abdicated to come tell me. What is it?”
“It’s about your son.” Nathan’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Dr. Cain froze.
“He set off on a quest, intending to find something and bring it back home. He died on the return trip, but he succeded in his quest.” Nathan reached into the pocket of his overcoat and removed a small cup. It fit easily into Nathan’s hand and was made of a paper-thin crystal that caught the light.
Dr. Cain said nothing, but her eyes never left the cup.
The silence stretched.
“Why bring this here?” Dr. Cain said, her voice low.
“Your son set out to find it for you. Seeing that you got it is the least I can do.”
“The least you could do?” Awan hissed, and then realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. “Galahad was in the city you destroyed.”
Nathan bowed his head, still holding out the Grail. Mordred Pendragon took it, looked in its depths, and smiled.
12.30.07
Grail Castle.
He really hated the south of France. Fucking Pyrenees.
Dr. Cain scrabbled up another cliff, his head pounding from his magically-induced eyesight. He barked his shin on an outcropping, cursed, and kicked it again just out of spite. It hurt his toe, but it made him feel better.
Times like this, he wished he’d never been given the ability to make his eyes work. Then he could’ve told Francis to fuck off.
Dragon talons did come in handy for scaling mountains, though. Dr. Cain wheezed out a laugh. Kathleen had told him he climbed like a gecko. Not strictly true, but amusing nevertheless.
Dr. Cain pulled himself onto what was more or less the mountaintop and curled up in the brush, blending in seamlessly. Being able to turn “green as spring grass”, as his brother had put it, had moments of usefulness.
All in all, thought the scientist, he had too many useful traits. If he were more boring, he’d never have been sent on this damn fool errand.
He poked his watch irritably. “Francis.”
The watch twitched. “What?”
“Why am I breaking into your family’s ancestral castle, again?”
The watch sighed. “Because I’m holding your laboratory hostage.”
“Besides that.”
No response. Dr. Cain poked the watch again. “Francis. If you don’t tell me exactly what’s going on, I’m going to jump off this mountain and go home.”
“Most people ask before they leave, you know,” Francis muttered irritably. “And I told you. Something weird’s up there. I don’t know what, and I can’t exactly scale a mountain, and I don’t exactly trust the rest of my family to check it for me.”
“That’s really a sad commentary on your family,” said a third voice as its owner hunched down next to Dr. Cain.
Dr. Cain promptly punched him.
Or tried to, anyway. The stranger ducked back and got to his feet in one smooth motion.
Something tugged at the back of Dr. Cain’s mind.
The man twitched his disheveled robe straighter, ran a hand over his cropped white hair, and half-grinned down at the green man.
“So, Mordred, has anyone ever told you you climb like a gecko?”
