The Shadowed Manse

by David Alastair Hayden

  Morgan slapped his arm. “Do something!”

  “Me?”

  “You said it's your house! You said it came to save you!” She gave him a look so scathing he worried she might just team up with the shadows against him. “You’re the one who got us into this mess.”

  “Well … maybe I was wrong.”

  Morgan shook her head with a sigh. “So we're screwed after all.”

  Two shadow men stepped out from each corner of the room. He had to do something …

  The sword on the mantle!

  “Stay here!” he yelled.

  Adrenaline surging, he pushed away all the pain he felt and launched into action. He stepped up onto a couch and vaulted over its back. He hit the ground — slid on a rug — then caught his footing. Reaching the fireplace, he hopped up and grabbed the hilt of the steel longsword.

  “Watch out!” Morgan shouted. “To your right!”

  Arthur rotated as he stepped away, and swung the sword in front of him instinctively. The blade cut through the shadow man reaching for him. The creature fell back with a hand-wide gap separating its top half from the bottom.

  But it didn't disappear, and its upper half didn't fall away — it just floated in the air.

  “Duck!” Morgan yelled.

  Arthur bent his knees and fell into a crouch. A shadowy hand passed overhead. He ran. He couldn't clear the couch from the back, so he went around. By the time he reached Morgan, the shades from the other side of the room were moving toward them.

  Morgan shook her head and pointed in the direction Arthur had just come from. “Didn't work.”

  The shade he had split in half was reforming, tendrils of shadow joining its separated halves.

  “Doesn't matter. I've got a plan. Watch your head.”

  Morgan ducked down and covered her head with her hands. Arthur leapt up and swung the sword, aiming at the strange gem. The sword struck the stone. He was worried that he'd just knock it down, but as soon as the blade touched it, the gem shattered into dozens of shards that rained down on them.

  Arthur landed and tucked his face into the crook of his arm. Once the last of the shards had fallen, he pulled his head up.

  Just like that, the shadow men were gone.

  He pumped the sword in the air, full of excitement. “That got 'em!”

  The fireplaces roared to life. The warmth coming from them vanquished the cold, autumn air that had entered with them through the door leading in from the outside. All the lanterns brightened suddenly, giving the room a warm, cozy feeling. The musty smell faded. The dust and cobwebs remained, but it wasn’t anything a good cleaning couldn’t take care of. The room was now bright, cheerful, and welcoming.

  Morgan shook her head, and bits of purple crystal fell out of her hair. “How'd you know?”

  “I saw the gem flicker eight times,” he answered. “And then there were eight shadow men.”

  “Brilliant. I didn’t even —”

  BOOM!

  From out of nowhere, a thunderbolt struck, incinerating one of the couches. The searing light blinded Arthur — the boom deafened him — and the concussive force hurled him across the room. He struck the wall and fell to the floor … dazed … battered … fading …

  Chapter Six

  Too Brief An Explanation

  A hand gently stroked Arthur’s brow. His eyes opened … reluctantly … to a dim, blurry view … as if he were seeing the room and the figure before him through a glass bottle. His distorted vision wasn’t nearly as bad as the pounding in his head, the aching in his body, and the ringing in his ears.

  “Be healed, Arthur Primus,” said the figure. Her voice seemed to be a distant whisper. Then she chanted words that were either in a foreign language or just too faint for his damaged eardrums to decipher.

  Warmth spread through him; his vision cleared; the ringing in his ears stopped; the pain throughout his body faded — except in his chest and on his arm, where the shade had grabbed him.

  Alluring, bronze-skinned Ylliara knelt before him, with a tender, almost sad, smile creasing her face. This time she wasn’t a flickering hologram; she was here, in person. And she was even more astonishingly beautiful. No one in the world could be more beautiful than her.

  Her voice was now loud and clear as she asked, “Is that better, Master Paladin?”

  “A lot. Thanks.”

  “Master Paladin, please accept my apology. I did not intend to arrive here so violently. However, moving between universes is difficult and requires a lot of power and practice, and unfortunately, this was my first attempt.”

  Arthur nodded dumbly, only half understanding what she was saying. Then he came to his senses. “Hey, where’s Morgan? Is she —”

  “I’m right here, moron.”

  Looking shell-shocked, Morgan was sitting with her back against the wall, with her head tucked between her knees and her hands locked together on the back of her neck. Arthur pushed himself up and sat beside her. “You okay?”

  “I can barely hear you, I can’t see a blasted thing, and I feel like I’ve tumbled down that hill a few more times.”

  “Allow me, young lady,” said Lady Ylliara.

  She took Morgan’s hands and chanted in a strange language. A warm glow flowed from Ylliara’s fingertips. Morgan took a deep breath and relaxed — then she yanked her hands back and glanced down at them as if they were dirty.

  The angelic being smiled at Morgan. “I am Lady Ylliara of the Aetheria.”

  “I’m Arthur’s friend Morgan Apple … actually, I think I’m his only friend.”

  Arthur shook his head. If that were true, he still didn’t have any friends — he just had a Morgan.

  “Morgan’s here by accident. The shades were chasing me and I ran into her … literally, like I knocked her down a hill. We took shelter in the house.”

  Morgan gestured at his arm. “You’re still hurt.”

  The puckering blister from the shade and the shard of plastic poking out his chest were the only sources of pain left. The little cuts from the glass window and the bruises from rolling down the hill barely registered; it was like he’d spent a week or so resting and recovering.

  “I shall tend to your other wounds now, Master Paladin. The first application of healing could only repair your lesser injuries.”

  “Just Arthur, please,” he said.

  “As you wish.” She touched the wound on his arm and chanted. When she drew her hand away, the burn looked no worse than what he might have gotten from touching a hot pan on the stove. It was far from pleasant, but it was a hundred times better than it had been. She reached toward his chest. “I fear this will hurt. There is nothing I can do about that.”

  “Maybe … maybe we can leave it in there?” he offered.

  “Now that it no longer hides you from us, the device serves no purpose. Besides, it is cracked and still jabbing into your flesh. The wound will eventually become infected.”

  “So you’re — you’re going to rip it out?”

  Ylliara nodded gravely. “You may wish to look away. I will be as quick as possible. Take off your shirt, please.”

  Arthur set his shirt aside, and Ylliara placed both palms against his chest. Relaxing warmth flowed into him. This wasn’t bad … he could handle it — the warmth surged to a searing heat — he felt a tugging sensation as the plate began to pull away from his rib cage. He turned his head. With wide eyes, Morgan watched, but not in a horrified way — she seemed fascinated. She really was one seriously weird girl.

  With a rip, his skin tore — blood splattered Ylliara — the plate clattered onto the floor. Pain lanced through his chest; he tried to scream — failed — and swooned. Continuing to chant, Ylliara caught him. The blood on her disappeared, and the pain diminished, but he still passed out …

  He woke to see Morgan studying the plastic disk on the floor. She reached toward it, but Ylliara shook her head.

  “I would not touch it.”

  Arthur looked down a
nd felt his chest. The skin had been sewn back into place, and the wound was scarred over, as if several days had passed.

  “How … how long was I out?” Arthur said groggily. His wounds might be healed, but he still felt battered and exhausted.

  “Only a few minutes,” Morgan replied. “Lady Ylliara just finished telling me about your encounter in the woods and you being the Multiversal Paladin … whatever that means.”

  “Again, I am sorry for the nature of my arrival,” said Ylliara. “Moving between universes is no easy matter, and truthfully, I never thought I would have to.”

  “What universe did you come from?” Morgan asked.

  “The Aetherial Universe,” Ylliara replied without further explanation.

  Arthur pulled his shirt back on. His muscles were stiff, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to die anymore.

  “Did you come here to help us?” he asked.

  “I came here to restore the Manse,” said Lady Ylliara. “When you entered and the Manse shifted away from Earth, the last of my mother’s life-force faded away.”

  “Wait — your mother was here?” Arthur asked. “When we arrived? I didn’t see anyone.”

  Morgan shook her head. “I didn’t either.”

  Ylliara’s shoulders sagged. “My mother’s essence is what powered the Manse for more than two millennia. And now that she has gone, the Manse will diminish. Within an hour, all the lights will go out, in a couple of days the Manse will begin to break apart, and in a few weeks it will be naught but dust floating in the aether between the universes, a forgotten hope of better days.”

  “I’m … I’m sorry about your mother,” Arthur said.

  “So am I,” Ylliara replied.

  “What happened?” Morgan asked.

  “Truthfully, I do not know. Five years ago, Arthur suddenly disappeared, and his father Quintus refused to explain why. Our most powerful psychics scanned the Multiverse for Arthur, but failed to find him. Not long after that, we lost contact with Quintus Paladin as well, and, even more disturbing, we lost contact with the Manse itself. My mother, with all her power, could no longer communicate with us — nor could I find her. We assumed that Quintus, Arthur, and even the Manse itself were gone … until today, when the device over Arthur’s heart was broken, sending a clarion call to Aetheria. I contacted him immediately, and arrived here as soon as I could.”

  “So it was like a cloaking device?” Morgan asked.

  Ylliara nodded. “It hid Arthur from Aetheria and Entropy. Neither my people nor the shadows could find him. I assume this was his father’s way of keeping him safe. I have no idea why the device was placed on Arthur. I have never heard of such technology before in my life, but I can guess at who made it.”

  They looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t say anything further about the device.

  “So, I’m not safe anymore, am I?” Arthur asked.

  “No, you are not. The Manse is filled with shadows.”

  Ylliara walked over to the doorway below the loft and traced her hand over the glowing, three-armed symbol. The triskelion, which had started to fade, began to glow brightly again. “You fought against a few shades summoned through a crystal. They are nothing compared to the wraiths and the warlock I sense deep within. Something allowed these dark forces in the house. Whatever it was, my mother tried to prevent them from taking over — hence the glowing sigil you see hovering in the doorway.”

  Ylliara turned and gazed at Arthur with a look he hated, for he knew it well. It was the same look Dr. Dickinson gave him before punishing him: the I’m-sorry-I’ve-got-to-do-this-to-you look.

  “With my mother gone, there may be no way to know for certain what happened,” said Ylliara. “It is possible that the computer systems in the Manse retain the information … but I doubt it. Someone, Quintus I presume, went to a lot of trouble to hide what was happening here, just as he went to a lot of trouble to hide Arthur from both Aetheria and Entropy. It was good fortune that the device broke, and I could find you. There is hope again, little as it may be. The Manse would have disintegrated within a year, even if it had remained stationary, for the shadows within are eating away at the life force of the Manse.”

  “So my father is dead …”

  “That is why you were called, Arthur. To take your father’s place. There can only be one Multiversal Paladin. That is the way of things.”

  Arthur choked back a sob. He’d always known his father had to be dead. Why else would he never come back for him? But that didn’t make it any easier to hear. “When … when did he die?”

  Ylliara shrugged. “I would guess when we lost contact, but we cannot know for certain unless he left a message behind for us. Your father was behaving in a strange manner when last Aetheria communicated with him. Mother assured us everything was okay. Clearly, she was wrong.”

  “Or she lied,” Morgan stated.

  Arthur was worried Ylliara would be offended by Morgan’s statement, but she merely shrugged and said, “Possibly. But if she did, I am certain she did it for good reason.”

  “So what happens now?” Arthur asked.

  “Obviously, Ylliara will give up her life to power the house again,” Morgan said, “just as her mother did.”

  “Miss Apple is correct,” Ylliara said. “Only the soul of an Aetherian can power the Manse. That duty has fallen to me. It is my terrible honor.”

  “Why not take us home and return to your world instead?” Arthur said.

  “Would you truly rather return home than serve the light and battle evil throughout the Multiverse?”

  “No, but I don’t want you to die, either.”

  “For me, this is not a true death; my spirit will live on. The cause could not be any nobler. And besides, as your skill increases, you will be able to commune with me in the Inner Sanctum.”

  “You know I’m just a kid, without any useful evil-fighting skills … right? I don’t even have a clue what a Multiversal Paladin is.”

  “Of course, of course … normally, you would have been taught all of this from the time you were born.”

  If a light bulb could go off over someone’s head, Arthur would’ve had a giant, 1,000-watt floodlight hanging over him at the moment. “Oh! I bet my dad did tell me about all the Paladin stuff. I bet he was telling me about all the things I’d be doing and learning as I grew up. But then he left me, and I was too little to actually remember the details. That’s why I’ve always had this feeling in school, like I’m supposed to be learning something bigger and more important, like I’m supposed to be learning how to save the world. And I’ve always dreamed about spaceships and strange alien creatures, too.”

  Ylliara nodded. “And by now you would be far along in learning to be the Paladin. You would be actively training for battle, alongside your cousins and siblings, if you had any. But alas, there is only you. No one else can do this.”

  “Wait, all the members of my father’s family are gone? I’m the only one left?”

  “All of them were assassinated, one by one, over the span of a decade. Then your mother was assassinated, shortly before we lost contact with your father.”

  “My mother was assassinated?! She didn’t die in a rock-climbing accident?!”

  “No, of course not. I thought you knew …”

  Arthur’s heart ached; a lump formed in his throat. “I … I really don’t know anything. Who killed her?”

  “We never found out. I assume your father was working on that when we lost contact with him.”

  “So they … they must’ve gotten him too, then?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Morgan leaned forward, chewing at her lip. “You said there was a powerful shadow man in the Manse …”

  “A warlock. Under his command are powerful wraiths and, if I’m sensing correctly, hundreds of shades like the ones you encountered — summoned from more crystals, like the one you destroyed.”

  “So they must be the ones who killed my mom and dad?”
<
br />   “I doubt a warlock and a group of wraiths could kill your father, especially in the Manse. Under normal circumstances, with the Manse fully powered, there is no way a wraith could even cross the threshold and enter.”

  Suddenly, the lights dimmed noticeably, and the flames in one fireplace died out. Ylliara shot a nervous look toward the door leading deeper into the Manse and said, “We have little time left. I must tell you everything you absolutely must know, as simply and quickly as possible. I am sorry, but you will have to learn the rest on your own.”

  “You mean we have to fight the wraiths and shades inside by ourselves?!” Arthur exclaimed.

  “Obviously,” Morgan sighed.

  Ylliara nodded, and so Arthur turned to Morgan. “You should leave. This isn’t your fight, and I don’t want you to get hurt, or … or worse.”

  Morgan stared at him intently. “Friends stick together in hard times, right?”

  “Well, yeah … I guess so.”

  “Then I will stick with you.”

  “But that’s crazy. You could walk out that door and return —”

  “To a normal life?” She chuckled. “Yeah … I don’t have one. Besides, if I die … I die. Big deal. It happens. Besides, opportunities like this just don’t come around … well, ones like this aren’t supposed to ever come around.”

  “I am glad that you feel that way,” Ylliara said. “I think you will make an excellent official companion to the Multiversal Paladin. I am doubly glad, because there is no way for you to return home right now. The Manse has shifted into the Song Between the Verses. If you walked out of the Door To Many Worlds right now, while the Signal is red, you would step out into nothingness.”

  “What signal?” Arthur asked. “What door?”

  Lady Ylliara gestured toward the door through which they’d entered the Manse.

  Two old-fashioned light bulbs protected by wire cages — the sort of lights you’d see on a ship or in an old bunker — were fixed above the door. One light was red; the other green. The red one was glowing; it was noticeable but not very bright.

  “So if the light is green,” Morgan said, “and we open the door …”