Guardians. The Vault. Isaac feels a chill. This is why he’s here. This is what he needs to learn—how the Vault and the Guardian fully connect to him.

Behind him the door opens abruptly.

An old woman crosses the room, holding a heavy cane that taps the floor, echoing. Stooped, her white hair falling in countless braids that hang to her waist, her eyes blue-white, she pauses halfway across the room. “I heard my name.”

“He wants to take them,” the king says, petulant. “He wants to take what little magic I have left. I’m only trying to keep the kingdom alive.”

Tap, tap. She moves to confront the king where he stands. “You’ve grown up. I may be blind, but you are not and your eyes are too far above my own,” she says.

The king turns and drops slowly to one knee so that their eyes are level, but it still takes him a minute to look at her straight.

“I’ve known you since you were born, have I not?”

The king nods. “Yes.”

“And cared for you. But I’ve let you rule as you would. Sometimes, mistakes have been made.”

The king shifts, mumbling, but then goes quiet.

She says, her voice gentle, “All things change. All things end. These objects do not give you power. You have that all to yourself. But they must not be left loose to be used by those who would do evil.” She leans closer to the king, and Isaac moves behind him so that he can overhear her whisper. “We do not live forever. We are not masters of time. Only of what we leave behind, for good or ill. Even if it is lost in the mist of memory.” She straightens and looks directly at Isaac.

He startles. He grips the watch to be sure he still has hold, but he’s certain that she can see him with those white-blind eyes.

She looks back at the king. “Let go. You’ll feel better for it, even as ill winds blow. You’ll have the strength to keep them at bay for a while.”

Bedwyr, still carrying the orb in one hand, comes to stand next to Vivienne.

The king slumps, then straightens and sighs. He stands as if weary and places the sword in Bedwyr’s free hand.

Caledfwlch, Isaac realizes, must be Excalibur.

“Mistress,” says the king, “I hope this is not the end of all I tried to make good.”

“All things change,” she repeats, touching his cheek. “What you’ve done here is diminish the bad that may follow.” She turns and the knight follows her, and Isaac does, too.

*   *   *