He tried to tell her. “I want you to know something. Willow,” he said as they stood together on the platform of the Landsview. “I don’t know how all this is going to turn out, but I do know that, whichever way it goes, I’m the better by a long sight for having had you for a friend.”
She did not reply. Her hand closed tightly over his. Together they grasped the railing, and the castle walls fell away into the clouded gray skies.
They were gone all afternoon.
Ben slept soundly that night and did not wake until midday. Questor met him on his way downstairs. The wizard looked exhausted.
“Don’t tell me.” Ben smiled sympathetically. “Let me guess.”
“Guessing is not required, High Lord,” Questor replied. “We worked all night, Abernathy and I, and we found nothing. I am sorry.”
Ben put his arm around the sticklike frame. “Nothing to be sorry for — you tried. Go get some sleep. I’ll see you for dinner.”
He ate some fruit and cheese and drank some wine in the kitchen while Parsnip watched silently, then went alone to the chapel of the Paladin. He stayed there for some time, kneeling in the shadows, wondering what had become of the champion and why he would not return, trying to draw some small measure of understanding and strength from the armored shell that rested on the pedestal before him. Dreams and wishes paraded before his eyes, vague images in the musted air, and he let himself feel the sweetness of the life he had enjoyed. Old world and new, the good things recalled themselves and gave him peace.
He walked back through Sterling Silver in the late afternoon hours. He took his time, trailing silently through her halls and passageways, brushing her stone with his hands, feeling the warmth of her body. The magic that gave her life still burned somewhere deep within, but it was weakening. The Tarnish had grown worse; the discoloration had moved deeper within the castle walls. She was failing rapidly. He remembered the promise he had made to himself — that one day he would find a way to help her. He wondered now if he ever would.
He gathered his friends in the dining hall for dinner that evening — Willow, Questor, Abernathy, Bunion, Parsnip, Fillip. and Sot. There was little to eat. The castle larder was nearly empty and the magic could no longer produce the needed food. Everyone pretended the meal was fine. Conversation was subdued. No one complained; no one argued. They all worked very hard at avoiding any mention of what lay ahead.
When the meal was almost ended, Ben stood up. He had difficulty speaking. “I hope that you will excuse me, but I should try to get at least a few hours sleep before I, uh…” He stopped. “I thought I’d leave around midnight. I don’t expect any of you to go with me. In fact, it might be better if you didn’t. I appreciate the way you’ve all stood by me up to this point. I couldn’t ask for better friends. I wish there was something I…”
“High Lord,” Questor interrupted gently. He came to his feet, thin arms folding into his gray robes. “Please don’t say anything more. We all decided earlier that we would come with you tomorrow. Good friends could do no less. Now why don’t you go on to bed?”
They stared silently at him — the wizard, the scribe, the sylph, the kobolds, and the gnomes. He nodded slowly and smiled. “Thank you. Thank you all again.”
He walked from the room and stood alone for a moment in the hall beyond. Then he climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
Willow came to wake him at midnight.
They stood together in the darkness of the bedroom after Ben had risen and held each other. Ben’s eyes closed wearily and he let the warmth of the girl seep through him.
“I’m afraid of what’s going to happen, Willow,” he whispered to her. “Not of what might happen to me…” He cut himself short. “No, that’s a lie — I’m scared to death of what might happen to me. But I’m more afraid of what might happen to Landover if the Mark kills me. If I fail to survive this confrontation, Landover may be lost. And I’m afraid I will fail, because I still don’t know how to prevent him from winning!”