Viviane felt a flutter of panic as he closed his eyes. How was she going to go on forever with him here—not alive and not dead—simply unchanged, sleeping in this coldly beautiful tomb, where she was unable to speak with him, or touch him, or hold him?

“But, Merlin, there must be a way to influence these events. There must be a way to save this one man.” And in doing so, she added silently to herself, I would save you, too.

Merlin shook his head. “It is beyond my power. It is beyond your power.”

“It cannot be beyond my power!” the goddess cried in frustration.

“Viviane, my only love, you know that even the gods are not allowed to tamper with the balance of light and dark. The choice between the two is a mortal one, and darkness is reigning in Camelot.”

“Of course I know that! But I am an immortal. I wield the very essence of life. I must be able to save your son for you.”

“I fear his fate is sealed. He will die brokenhearted. Betrayed by love, he will go willingly to his death. Now, please, my goddess, my love, allow me to sleep.”

Viviane dropped to her knees beside his pallet and pressed her cheek against his thigh. He stroked her golden hair with a hand that was increasingly weak.

“I am so weary ...” he whispered.

As his eyes fluttered shut again, perhaps for the last time, Viviane sat up, her heart pounding with the beginnings of hope.

“Wait! Merlin, you said there is nothing in this time or reality that makes Arthur change his mind. But could something, or perhaps someone, from another time or another reality affect a change? Have you looked into that possible future and divined failure, too?”