Preparing himself as best he could, Buncan did so.Īt dinner he was sullen and uncommunicative. Not that it was necessarily a corollary to what had transpired earlier. It was the same pose he’d affected for much of the preceding year.įeeling sorry for the boy, Jon-Tom tried to mediate, explaining to Talea that it was all just a phase then- son was going through. Having been brought up under different circumstances in a very different society from that of her husband, Talea responded that in her clan such phases were usually handled with a sharp knife. Buncan started to say something but wisely thought better of it. “Could we dispense with the sarcasm for five minutes?” “Want me to get your sword now, Mom, or should I just take poison after I’ve finished brushing my teeth?” Only after he felt that his mother had vented most of her spleen did he push aside what remained of his vegetables and snake sausage. “Hey, what more can I say, Mom? I’m sorry. It’s not like I turned the stove into a salamander.” He hesitated, staring at his father. To come near to his achievements, have adventures, perform great deeds. I want to rescue beautiful damsels and defeat evil and save the world.

“Let me tell you something, son.” Jon-Tom sliced off a cylinder of sausage and poked it into his mouth, chewing reflectively as he gestured with his fork. “It’s true that I helped save the world, and as a full-time occupation I can tell you that it’s very overrated. “Actually I mink you’ve saved the world twice, sweetheart.” Talea set a fresh bowl of steaming sweet-and-sour potato down alongside the vegetables.

Son of spellsinger