Stillness filled the air when Seeker and Companion reached the Wicket Gate. Beelzebub’s Castle loomed beside them, its shadow stretching over the path, but there was no sign of danger—no whistling arrows, no growling hounds, only the rustle of the breeze and the soft creak of the gate.
The Wicket Gate was exactly as Seeker had imagined it—a small wooden door set into the stone wall, with the words inscribed “Knock and it shall be opened unto you.” But the door was already standing open.
He stood there staring. Why was the door already open? He raised his hand to knock, but what was the point? He stepped hesitantly over the threshold and looked this way and that. Where was Good-Will? There was no opposition, but there was no welcome, either.
On the other side of the gate, he spotted a summer-parlor for the welcoming of Pilgrims, but no one was inside. A layer of dust coated everything—the table, the chair, and the couch. No one had used the parlor for a long time.
On the table was a brass trumpet, dusty and tarnished from long disuse. Seeker could almost hear the welcoming chorus celebrating new arrivals, but now it just stood there in silence.
There was a basin and pitcher. He could imagine Good-Will washing the dust from a traveler’s feet. The mud from the Slough had dried on his clothes and skin, flaking away as the decaying odor of the Slough mixed with the stale smell of his sweat—he definitely needed to wash. But there was no towel, and the pitcher was empty.
He picked up a small tin cup from the table, his mouth dry with the dust of the road and exhaustion. But there was no water to quench his thirst.
Companion entered the room, shrugging but with kindness in his eyes. “Times change, my friend.” He took the cup from Seeker’s hands, poured some water from his canteen, swished it around several times, and poured it out. Then he filled it completely and handed it to Seeker.
The cool water refreshed Seeker. He swallowed every drop and put the tin cup into his satchel. He stepped outside, and the Narrow Way stretched before him, reaching the horizon, straight as a rule could make it.
Things were different than he expected, but now he had direction. And he had a friend. He drew a deep breath and let it out in a sigh of relief.
