“You will step out into a new world, but not just any world. You will be in the one place in the universe where the Multiversal Paladin is most needed. Finding that place and getting you there safely will be my job.”
“So you could guide us back home,” said Morgan, “if we wanted to return?”
“I could … under normal circumstances. But there will be no return to your home — no going anywhere — until the Manse is restored, and all the Entropian forces within are eradicated.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen, because we don’t have any way to kill them.” Arthur said. “All I’ve got is a blue belt in karate.” He pointed to the sword that he’d dropped when Ylliara’s explosive arrival blew him across the room. “And that didn’t do me much good.”
“That is but a ceremonial blade,” Ylliara replied. “There are powerful weapons capable of destroying wraiths — you will find them in the Armory. As for your skills … there is nothing we can do about that.”
The flames in the other fireplace fluttered and went out. Ylliara took a deep breath and spoke fast. “Listen carefully, and please, do not interrupt. We have no time left for questions. Arthur, we call you the Multiversal Paladin because you carry within you the royal bloodlines of the Aetherian Universe and the Entropian Universe, as well as some of the best genetics humanity has to offer. Your universe is called the Prime Universe. You may find it easier to think of the other two as higher planes of existence.
“I am, of course, from Aetheria. And the shades you fought are from Entropia. Where we represent light, order, and creation, the Entropians represent darkness, chaos, and destruction. The history of our war is long and complex. Suffice it to say that we have battled one another for eons. We have fought directly, and we have fought through our agents in your universe.
“The Paladin family has long represented Aetheria, and while all of them are above and beyond normal humans in their abilities and training, a single member of the family, the one most qualified, male or female, takes on the mantle of the Multiversal Paladin. This mantle brings with it raw power and supernatural abilities that you, unfortunately, have not had the chance to prepare for, so be wary: Power is not always a good thing. If you are not careful, it can overwhelm you.
“Using this power, the Multiversal Paladin travels the universe, from planet to planet, helping those in desperate need and fighting against the forces of Entropy — sometimes directly and sometimes indirectly. Of course, one Paladin cannot defeat the enemy alone. The universe is almost unimaginably massive. No, the Aetheria merely sends the Paladin to where he or she is most needed, and the Paladin serves as a beacon of light and hope. Hope, you see, spreads like a ripple in a pond — that is how we counter Entropy’s forces, which are stronger and far greater in number.”
“You don’t have any other agents?” Morgan asked, defying Ylliara’s request that they ask no questions.
Ylliara shook her head. “Once we did, but all have now perished. For the first time since the Manse was created and the first Paladin anointed, the Entropians are attacking our universe directly. We will not be able to hold them off much longer. A hundred years at best; a decade at the worst. With the Manse restored and you, Arthur, successful, we may be able to fend them off permanently, or at least extend our survival.”
“So let me get this straight,” Arthur said. “Aetheria is about to fall, and I’m the last hero you’ve got to represent you in this universe. I’m especially powerful, but I don’t know how to control the powers you don’t have time to tell me about. And all of my family is dead.”
“That is correct. But you do have one companion now.” Ylliara smiled at Morgan. “All your father had in the end was your mother, and she spent most of her time raising you. Traditionally, every Multiversal Paladin traveled with twelve companions. Frequently, these were siblings and cousins, uncles and aunts, who might take on the Mantle should the Paladin fall and who had the training to combat the forces of darkness. Though that wasn’t always the case: There are brave individuals of unique skill throughout the Prime Universe. “
“Okay, so what do I do now?” Arthur asked.
“Rest for a few hours, then go through those doors and into the Grand Hallway. Fight the wraiths and shades within and free the Manse. Otherwise, the three of us will die.”
“Great, we’re doomed,” Arthur muttered.
“Off the Grand Hallway you will find the Armory. It is the third door to your right. Go there first and arm yourselves. Hopefully Bright-Cage, the Sword of the Multiversal Paladin, is still here somewhere. It is the most powerful weapon we have, other than the Paladin himself.
“The shades you fought in here were summoned from a dark-heart. I feel confident that all the shades in the Manse came from dark-hearts. That will make things somewhat easier for you. But the wraiths and the warlock do not have such a weakness. I also fear that my arrival has further alerted the Entropians to your presence. As the stone in here was once dormant, then awoke when you entered, I am certain that all of the stones have now come alive.”
“Are you sure you can’t help us fight them?” Arthur asked.
Ylliara shook her head as a lantern winked out. “There is no time. And the Law of Aetheria forbids me to take direct action in the Prime Universe.”
“You can’t break that law?” Morgan asked. “Because this is looking pretty bleak.”
“I would break the law if I could, but I cannot,” Ylliara said, sadly. “I will be able to help you in other ways, though. You saw me strengthen the glowing triskelion sigil that has the enemy locked out of this room. If my senses are correct, my mother had a chance to place them across many doorways throughout the Manse. The sigils are fading now, but once I restore the Manse, that should rejuvenate them. Your enemies cannot cross that barrier unless … well, you should be safe. You and Morgan, however, can walk through the sigils without difficulty.”
She took a deep breath. “Now, there is one other quite significant thing I can do to help you out — a way in which my particular power can aid you immensely. I shall numenate you.”
“You’ll what?” Arthur said.
“I don’t have time to explain,” she said, as another lantern flickered out. The room was almost as dark now as when they had first entered. “What I’m about to do will knock you unconscious for a short while. You will be safe, however. And when you wake, do not be alarmed at what you see. No harm shall come to you. I will be gone by then, my essence bound to the Manse, but I will be here with you in spirit. Farewell, Morgan Apple. Farewell, Master Paladin. I wish you good fortune. On you much depends.”
Ylliara reached out and touched her forefinger to the middle of Morgan’s forehead. Morgan collapsed, unconscious. Before Arthur could react, Ylliara did the same to him. As he fell unconscious, he heard the howl of a wolf and the growling of a big cat.
Chapter Seven
The Lynx, the Wolf, and the Valet
Something cold and damp nudged Arthur’s cheek. He swatted it away and fell back into a deep slumber. Something rough and wet scraped across his nose. Annoyed, he shoved … whatever it was … away and returned to sleep. Something batted him on the jaw. That roused him halfway. Another strike followed — ow! — and someone hissed:
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
Arthur awoke, groggily — forced his eyes open — and nearly screamed as he shoved himself back against the wall. A lynx was looming over him, an actual, honest-to-goodness lynx — thick fur, wide paws, tufted ears, and all. The lynx was entirely monochrome: her body was gray-white, as if she’d been primed but never painted. Where the shades seemed to be made of solidified shadow, this big cat seemed to be composed of something like … like moonlit fog, perhaps.
“You know what’s strange?” the lynx said. Naturally, it could talk — that’s the way Arthur’s life worked now. “I haven’t the slightest idea who Pete is — do you?” Her voice was flowing yet husky, like that of a glamorous star from an old movie who had smo
ked way too many cigarettes after her career ended.
Arthur shook his head.
“I’m Alexis,” she said, dramatically. “But please, call me Lexi.” Her solid black eyes flicked up at the ceiling, and she chewed her lip, just like a person trying to unravel a puzzle. “Well, you know that’s kinda dodgy. Why would I prefer to be called Lexi?”
Arthur shook his head again.
The lynx sat back on her haunches and looked at each paw in turn. “Well, I haven’t got your tongue, so it’s definitely not my fault you can’t speak.”
Morgan stirred beside Arthur. “He’s just dumb. Don’t pay him any —” Morgan opened her eyes and shoved herself back against the wall. “Yikes!”
Lexi waved a paw at her. “Hello, girl-who-finally-speaks!”
“Hi!” Morgan chirped back in alarm.
“You are scaring the both of them, Alexis,” said a voice that sounded like a Shakespearean actor heard through an old tube radio.
From the shadows prowled a monochrome wolf. Like Lexi, he seemed composed of moonlight. Arthur and Morgan both scooted closer to one another. Where the heck had these two … ghost animals … come from?!
“I am Vassalus,” said the wolf. “You may not address me in any other manner. Though, like my comrade Alexis, I am not certain as to why that is my preference.”
“What — what are you?” Arthur asked.
“Oh, I do know that, darling,” Lexi said. “We are numina.”
“Numen in the singular,” Vassalus added. “I am a numen; we are numina. You may also think of us as guardian daemons, if you must. I would prefer if you did not. We are formed from Aetheria. Lady Ylliara of the Manse brought us forth from the subconscious of each of you.”
Morgan pointed at Lexi. “You are from my subconscious?”
“Oh heavens no, my dear,” said Vassalus. “I am from your subconscious. Alexis came from Arthur.”
“Oh,” replied Morgan, “that makes sense.”
“It does?” Arthur asked.
Lexi flicked her fluffy tail back and forth with irritation. “What, you’re not happy with me?”
“Oh, I’m … I’m not unhappy,” Arthur said. “Just a bit puzzled. I don’t understand any of this.”
“Well, it’s hardly my fault if you lack self-awareness and don’t remember your Grandma Paladin except in the deepest recesses of your — hey, how do I know about your Grandma Paladin?” Arthur shrugged. Lexi flicked her head one way and then the other while pouncing around in a circle. She became more agitated with each pounce. “Does anyone know where I left my c/slate? I need to download this month’s copy of Today’s Intergalactic Woman — there’s an article in there that I must read. And where is my cup of Darjeeling and my lingonberry scone? You know I can’t function if I haven’t — wait, where did that come from? I don’t eat scones and drink tea — I’m a cat!”
“It is a residual impulse,” Vassalus said. “It will pass … well, we can certainly hope so, anyway.”
“If Alexis … sorry, Lexi,” said Morgan, “is based in part on Arthur’s Grandma Paladin, who are you based on, Vassalus?”
“Sorry, my dear, but I have no idea. Perhaps I am strictly from your imagination.”
“So the two of you,” said Arthur, “are the help Lady Ylliara promised us?” No wonder she had said not to be alarmed — a talking wolf and a talking cat! But then … he had remembered, vaguely, there being a wolf and a cat in the manse before, but these two weren’t as big as those, which were so large you could ride them. Or was it that he was so small then that they seemed big enough to ride?
“We are your help indeed,” said Vassalus. He eyed Lexi who was bobbing her head up and down, sniffing. “What are you doing, madam?”
“Trying to track down some food — I’m hungry!”
“But you can’t eat scones,” Morgan said.
“Not scones, dearie — I want tuna!”
“We do not need to eat, Alexis. We are numina, remember? In fact, I am rather certain we are not capable of eating or …” a slight tinge of regret entered Vassalus’s voice “… or drinking tea.”
“Oh … well, that stinks,” she groaned.
“Maybe there are some little numina mice running around somewhere …” Arthur suggested.
“See,” said Lexi, flicking her tail happily. “We do match. I like the way you think!”
Arthur closed his eyes and wished he could roll back time and ask Ylliara for a different guardian. The big cat part was fine — lynxes were awesome, one of his favorite animals — but it was her personality he wanted to change.
“So,” Morgan said, “do either of you know what’s going on?”
“Sadly,” Vassalus said, “we only know a little more than you. Lady Ylliara intended to encode additional information into us, but she ran out of time. We may have a few choice bits of data bouncing around in our heads, but not much. Sorry.”
A sudden burst of fog appeared behind the animals, and out from it stepped a ghostly man. He wore a belted tunic, knee-high boots, and gloves that came almost to his elbows. His arms, legs, and neck were wrapped with what looked like bandages. His face was completely covered with a single cloth that showed the shape of a face but no distinct features. On his head sat a bowler hat. A sword in a scabbard hung from his belt. Arthur had dreamed of beings like this before … probably because he had actually seen this one as a child. The blank faces had certainly terrorized him throughout many nightmares.
“Do not be alarmed,” said Vassalus. “Lady Ylliara told us Valet would arrive soon. It takes a few minutes for the servitors to be restored, after a room has been cleared from essence of Shadow.”
“The servitors?” Arthur said.
“The Aetherial servants of the house,” Lexi said. “Technically, they’re numina just like us, but there are differences. The primary difference is that they are formed out of need and not from anyone’s subconscious — or maybe they’re from Lady Ylliara’s subconscious. They can understand anything you say to them, but they can’t talk. Wow, I really do know some extra things.”
“Because Lady Ylliara told you,” Vassalus said in exasperation.
“Oh, guess I just absorbed it — I wasn’t really paying attention.”
“Valet,” said Vassalus, “is named for his position. All the servitors are.”
“When you say valet,” Arthur said, “do you mean valet?” He pronounced it val-ay instead of val-it like Vassalus kept doing. “Like someone who parks a car?”
“You moron,” Morgan said. “He’s a personal attendant, and you can pronounce it either way.”
“Oh.”
“Valet will see to your personal needs, Master Paladin,” Vassalus explained. “He will help you dress and arm yourself. He will fetch anything you need.”
“But he can’t talk?” Arthur said.
“None of the servitors can,” Vassalus answered. “Though they can respond silently.”
“How many others are there?” Arthur said.
“Five,” Vassalus replied. “Valet, Cook, Maid, Priest, Librarian, and Arms.”
“Are the servitors robots?” Morgan asked.
“Not exactly, my dear,” Vassalus answered. “They are Aetherial constructs.”
“And that means …” Arthur prompted.
“That they are, like us, made of solidified light,” said Lexi. “Just as the shades you just fought are constructs of darkness.”
“Solidified light?” Morgan said. “That’s not possible.”
“It is not the common sort of light you are familiar with,” said the wolf. “It is Aetherial light, just as the shades you encountered were made of Entropian shadow.”
“So how long were we asleep?” Arthur asked.
“About an hour,” answered Lexi.
“Sixty-three and a half minutes,” Vassalus corrected.
“Lady Ylliara said we should rest a while before daring the Grand Hallway,” Arthur said. “Guess we should rest some more, huh?”<
br />
“Oh, sounds good to me!” Lexi said. She curled up into a giant fluff-ball next to Arthur, and immediately began softly purring … or maybe snoring.
Vassalus shook his head. “I would not take too long. Maybe another hour. Nap if you like. If you need help with anything, do not hesitate to ask me.”
Arthur looked to Valet who was simply staring at him. “Do you need rest or anything?” Arthur asked him.
Valet shook his head no.
“Are you any good with that sword?”
Valet drew the blade. It was a long, thin sword — a rapier. He went through several attack routines, swished the sword with a flourish, and returned it to the scabbard. He stared at Arthur, who, not knowing what else to do, nodded in approval.
“All the skill of a long-retired, septuagenarian fencing instructor,” Vassalus muttered. “But beggars cannot be choosers.”
“Will your sword hurt the shades?” Arthur asked.
Valet pointed to the sword on the floor that Arthur had used and shook his head. Well, that was too bad.
“Can they hurt you?” Morgan asked.
Valet nodded yes, and Vassalus said, “Oh, they can hurt all of us.” He bared his teeth. “Though, we can most certainly hurt back.”
The way Valet just stood there watching them made Arthur nervous. “Valet, could you guard the door. Just in case they break through.”
Vassalus eyed Arthur, but said nothing as Valet walked over, drew his sword, and faced the door. Arthur picked up the other sword, since it was all he would have to work with until they reached the Armory. He flopped into one of the big armchairs. Lexi woke, followed him, and curled up at his feet. She was soon fast asleep again.
Morgan retrieved her backpack and took the armchair opposite Arthur. She rummaged through her pack. Vassalus stood beside her, gazing on with interest. Arthur felt a pang of jealousy. He couldn’t help but think that Morgan had gotten the better numen.
Morgan examined her ThinkPad, and booted it up. A minute later, she sighed with relief and sank back into the chair. After sorting through various cords and what he thought was an extra battery, she checked her iPhone with the shattered screen. “It’s still working, but obviously there’s no signal. And of course, you can’t see the screen very well. Probably good that I packed light today.”
The Shadowed Manse Page 6
