The professor’s eyes mellowed into two aging oracles, as if they had seen hundreds of battles, scores of earthquakes, and even the changing of the guard in heaven. “Merlin has left me with many of his thoughts, William, as though I have retained his memories and learned his prophecies. In the light of his remaining flame, I see villains, ambushes, and tortures. Great danger is in your path.”
The aged teacher pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “There is also another prophecy I can share with you now. It was in the diary, and Merlin has somehow burned it indelibly in my memory. I will sing it, but do not bother to ask its meaning. As yet, I have no idea. I assume, however, that its message will become clear, and helpful, as we journey into our new adventure.”
He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, his voice transforming into a rich, sweet tenor. He sang as a prophetic bard of old, his song mysterious and captivating.
With sword and stone, the holy knight,
Darkness as his bane,
Will gather warriors in the light
Cast in heaven’s flame.
He comes to save a remnant band,
Searching with his maid,
But in a sea of sadness finds
His warriors lying splayed.
A valley deep, a valley long
Lay angels dry and dead
Now who can wake their cold, stone hearts
Their bones on table spread?
Like wine that flows in skins made new
The spirit pours out fresh
Can hymns of love bring forth the dead
And give them hearts of flesh?
O will you learn from words of faith
That sing in psalms from heaven
To valley floors where terrors lurk
In circles numbering seven?
Billy placed his hands on the sides of his head. This was just too much to take in all at once. He had already been through a bloody battle! The professor just piped this weird new song that made no sense at all. And now . . . he was supposed to be a deliverer? “What next?”
“Only to say whether or not you will go with me. I guarantee nothing save that your trials are not complete.”
Billy unfolded the plane ticket and stared at it. The professor really meant for him to fly to England. He’s never been so serious before, so solemn. Is he afraid? And that song! Scary stuff! He glanced at his mother. Poor Mom. What’s she thinking? Sure, she’s proud of me, but should I go off halfway around the world chasing after the professor’s dream? Still, I really can’t ask her. It wouldn’t be fair.
Walter’s ever-present smile faded. With a tight jaw and clenched fist, he gave Billy a firm nod. Bonnie, on the other hand, beamed like the glory of the rising sun. Having faced her greatest fears, she came out of the darkness to find the one she had sought through pain and tears. Billy also found a beacon in the darkness— the light that radiated in Bonnie’s spirit— and she had shown him the way to its source. Now that light burned within Billy’s heart more fervently than any dragon’s fire. What could he do but pour it forth, shining his light down whatever path he might be called?
Billy folded the ticket and put it in his pocket. “I’ll do it.”
Bonnie and Walter jumped to their feet. Bonnie gave him a warm embrace. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart,” she whispered as she drew away.
Walter slapped him on the back. “You’d better learn to speak their language before you go. You won’t even be able to find a bathroom if you don’t learn to say ‘water closet.’”
Billy’s mother reached over and gave her son a hug. “I’m sure the professor will help him with the culture, Walter. If the professor is any indication, Billy will be among the finest of gentlemen.”
A door slammed open, and a line of men tromped into the room from the basement stairwell. With a bag of potato chips in his right hand and the cat, Gandalf, cradled in his left arm, Sir Barlow led the way. Newman followed, his face buried in a
National Geographic magazine, and Edward marched behind him, playing a high note on a trumpet. The three others brought up the rear, each wearing seventies era leisure suits, Fiske in Creamsicle orange, Standish in avocado green, and Woodrow in electric grape.
“Yes,” Mr. Foley said, his head shaking. “Real gentlemen.”
“We found a fascinating little room,” Barlow explained, “packed with boxes marked ‘Goodwill.’ If these boxes are filled with goodwill, I thought, it should be no harm to investigate their contents. I was surprised to see this assortment of oddities.” He bowed again and handed Gandalf to Billy. “Your cat, sir, has taken quite a liking to me. Perhaps he thinks I am his pajamas.”
Billy took the purring cat. “You mean Gandalf thinks you’re the cat’s pajamas?”
Barlow wiggled his mustache, a crimson blush creeping up from his neck into his cheeks. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
OTHER BOOKS BY BRYAN DAVIS
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
Contents
Acknowledgments
Merlin’s Prophecy
Chapter 1: The Art of War
Chapter 2: Counting the Cost
Chapter 3: The Dragon’s Lair
Chapter 4: Excalibur
Chapter 5: Through the Veil
Chapter 6: The Chamber of Light
Chapter 7: Speaking to the Dead
Chapter 8: Voices in the Dark
Chapter 9: The Transluminary Triangle
Chapter 10: Love Lifts the Veil
Chapter 11: Old Wineskins
Chapter 12: The Valley of the Shadow of Death
Chapter 13: The Gates of Hell
Chapter 14: Seeing Red
Chapter 15: Daddy’s Dream
Chapter 16: To Summon a Dragon
Chapter 17: Through a Glass Darkly
Chapter 18: The Chasm
Chapter 19: Catching the Light
Chapter 20: Restoration
Chapter 21: Collapse
Chapter 22: Scorched Earth
Chapter 23: Heaven’s Gates
Chapter 24: Song of the Bard
Other Books by Bryan Davis
Bryan Davis, The Candlestone
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