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. For more long moments I listened, but there were no sounds from
within. Slowly then, I entered. A number of candles burned upon the dresser
set against the far wall. There was no one in sight.
"Hello?" I called.out. "It's me. Merlin." There came no answer.
I drew the door closed behind me and moved forward. A bud vase stood
upon the dresser amid the candles. It contained a single rose, and it
appeared to be silver in color. I drew nearer. Yes, it was real, not
artificial. And it was silver. In what shadow did such flowers grow?
I picked up one of the candles by its, holder and moved away with it,
shielding its flame with my hand. I crossed to my left and entered the next
room. Immediately, on opening the door, I saw that there was no need to have
brought the candle. More of them were burning here.
"Hello?" I repeated.
Again, no answer. No sounds of any sort.
I set the candle upon a nearby table and crossed to the bed. I raised a
sleeve and let it fall. A silvery shirt was laid out upon the counterpane
beside a black pair of trousers-my father's colors. They had not been there
when last I had visited.
I seated myself beside them and stared across the room into a shadowy
corner. What was going on? Some bizarre household ritual? A haunting? or. .
. .
"Corwin?" I said.
In that I'd hardly expected a reply, I was not disappointed
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