CHAPTER 44 

The cows' breath sweetened the morning air with the scent of the fodder they'd grazed the day before. One of the calves rubbed its black-and-white head against Dennis in a friendly gesture before frisking off after its mother. 

The sun hadn't risen over the fringing jungle, but the sky above the pasture was already bright. 

Dennis rubbed his face with his palms. 

"Dennis?" said the little robot. 

"Yes, Chester?" 

"It is now that you have need of the armor in Malduanan's hut." 

"To do what?" Dennis asked in amazement. 

"To wear, Dennis," Chester replied. "To watch, and to wait." 

The jungle was reclaiming Malduanan's hut. The woven leaves of the roof were tattered, creating pools of light. Plants were beginning to sprout among the bones. 

The black armor stood in calm magnificence. Chester's tentacles worked the catches with a speed and ease beyond that of a human attendant, dressing his master piece by piece while another pair of limbs readied the next of the accouterments. 

The armor covered Dennis completely. Each piece fit as perfectly as if it had been made for him instead of some long-dead hero. 

Where the armor touched bare flesh—his wrists and neck, and his hands which flexed and released within the gauntlets—the metal had the feel of satin. It seemed to weigh no more than the ordinary clothes he wore beneath it. 

"This is star-metal, isn't it, Chester?" Dennis said in awe. He worked the helmet's slotted visor with his left hand while the robot fitted the swordbelt around the sliding bands that permitted him to bend at the waist. 

"It is star-metal, Dennis," Chester agreed smugly. The robot backed a pace as if to view his handiwork. "And now," he continued, "we will go to Malbawn's hut." 

Dennis swallowed. "To—watch the Princess Aria?" he said. 

"Yes, Dennis. And to wait."