"Lily sought refuge here, and was greatly fortunate in Fate crossing Anest's path with hers. But her sisters are another matter. They would have to be bonded to something neutral until the Demon King could find some way to corrupt their hearts, working on them until they chose to be the chattel of his will." He shuddered at the thought. "Should the Demon King manage to corrupt them, it would mean woe for low and high alike, for they are not as, say, mere mortal men, such as were
the Wights, but are puissant creatures of magic in their own right!"
"You mean, they would be like Lily, but with a warlock's sceptre rather than the Summoning Stone?" said Grol.
"Worse," Palindor replied. "Far worse. Imagine such a being summoning the power of the Black Wood, or the Red Hills of Darkhun, using an evil tool of the Demon King. No wonder Lily was so concerned about the Marsh. And," he added thoughtfully, realisation dawning, "no wonder the Demon King fears her."
Changing the subject, Grol nodded towards Palindor's sword and scabbard. "I couldn't help but notice the absence of your old sword. This new one is a fine piece. Judging by the runes, I would say that it was made for yourself. And don't give me that look! I didn't lay a hand on it! But I did overhear your little conversation with Finrain. Remind me to stay on your good side! I had never before heard that elves were known to hold a grudge, and for so long a time! What has this Niles of