Wizard at Large Read Online Free PDF Page A

following day—how in theworld was he going to get along without Abernathy to remind him of his appointments and to keep his calendar?— stuck his head in the kitchen to see what Parsnip was preparing, and went for a run.
    Running was the one exercise he still practiced faithfully. He kept what he could of his boxer's routine—a holdover from his days as a silver gloves champion and after—but he lacked the sophisticated punching equipment that would let him train as he would in a Chicago gym, so he relied heavily on the running, together with rope work and isometrics. It was enough to keep him fit.
    He dressed in his sweats and Nikes, crossed from the island to the mainland in the lake skimmer—his private skiff, a vessel that ran without any power but that of his own thought—climbed the hills beyond, and began to run along the rim of the valley. Fall was in the air, a brief hint of color already beginning to show in the green of the trees. Days were growing short, the nights cold. He ran for almost two hours, trying to work through the day's frustrations and disappointments; when he was sufficiently tired, he crossed back again.
    By now the sun was slipping quickly into the west, already partially masked by a screen of forest trees and distant peaks. He watched the dramatic outline of the castle loom up before him as he sat in the skimmer, thinking how much he loved it here. Sterling Silver was the home he had always searched for—even when he didn't know he was searching for it. He remembered how forbidding she had seemed that first time, all worn and discolored from the Tarnish, the loss of magic in the land having sickened her. He remembered how huge and empty she had seemed. That was before he had discovered that she was alive and that she was as capable of feeling as he. He remembered the warmth he had felt in her that first night—a warmth that was real and not imagined. Sterling Silver was a singular bit of magic, a creation of stone and mortar and metalthat was nevertheless as human as any creature of flesh and blood. She could extend warmth, she could provide food, she could shelter, she could comfort. She was a wondrous magic, and he never ceased to marvel that she could actually be.
    He received word from Willow on his return that Ques-tor had surfaced long enough to report that he had determined that Abernathy definitely wasn't still in Landover. Ben accepted the news stoically. He hadn't really expected things to be that easy.
    Willow came to him and washed him in his bath. Her tiny hands were gentle and loving, and she kissed him often. Her long, green hair swept down about her face as she worked, and it made her seem veiled and mysterious.
    “You must not be too angry with Questor,”she said finally as he was toweling himself dry. “He tried to do what he thought best for Abernathy. He wanted desperately to help.”
    “I know that,”Ben said.
    “He holds himself responsible for Abernathy's condition, and such responsibility is a terrible burden.”She looked out the window of his bedchamber into the darkening night. “You should understand better than anyone what it can be like to feel responsible for another person.”
    He did. He had carried the weight of that responsibility more times than he cared to remember. A few times he had carried it when it was not really his to carry. He thought of Annie, his wife, gone now almost four years. He thought of his old law partner and good friend, Miles Bennett. He thought of the people of Landover, of the black unicorn, of his new friends Willow, Abernathy, Bunion, Parsnip, and, of course, Questor.
    “I just wish he could manage to control the magic a little better,”he said softly. Then he stopped in the middle of what he was doing and looked over at the sylph. “Fm scared to death of losing that medallion, Willow. I rememberall too well what it was like when I thought I'd lost it last time. I feel so helpless without it.”
    Willow came to him and