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Chapter Forty-seven

We found a shovel in the storage shed behind the open-roofed abbey, and spent the next few hours digging a shallow grave beside the sa around earlier

Marion stood in the rain byWhen I was finished, she snapped out of her funk and together we carefully positioned Arthur within the shallow grave Withthe shovel and Marion her hands, we buried our friend, the one-ti of Britain

"Goodbye, old boy," I whispered

In thatoff on a white stallion, down a leaf-strewn forest path bathed in golden light, a path that led straight into the golden sun

I sucked in some air, and the vision faded away

Marion and I stepped back under the branches of a nearby oak tree And as the rain pu rolled in over the grounds, four srassy slope, skipping and dancing and holding hands

Marion gasped when she saw the wee folk

Somehow, I expected them

They skipped down the slope and stopped at Arthur&039;s grave There, they formed a small circle around the dark soil and bowed their heads deeply Then, after a longhands When their selic voices reached us, Marion wept hard and rested her head on rounds, enveloping the little folk, and when it dissipated a fewwith their tiny, haunting voices

Left behind in their place was another tree sapling, this one planted squarely in the center of Arthur&039;s grave

A tiny oak tree

Chapter Forty-eight

We were back in the open air chapel

"We o on, you know," said Marion, her voice flat, emotionless She looked like she had lost a son