“That is most unfortunate then,” said Vassalus. “I should very much like to take a long sprint.”
“I don’t think it will hurt as long as you stay in sight,” Arthur replied.
“I’d walk outward first,” Morgan added. “In case there’s an invisible barrier.”
Vassalus and Lexi trotted off in opposite directions. Arthur splashed through the edge of the surf, and Morgan took out her c|slate and stood awkwardly on the sand, thumbing across the screen, gazing at it intently. Arthur knew he should give up on trying to figure out Morgan, but two things prevented him. First, she was kind of like a fun puzzle. Sure, she was frustrating, but it was still fun trying to put the pieces together. Something about her was intriguing … maybe because she was so far from being like everyone else. He appreciated that since he was a lot like that himself — apparently even more than he had thought. The other thing was he knew he needed to know all her strange quirks if they were going to be adventuring on quests together, trying to save the universe. He needed to understand her. And he was going to find some way to get her in the water and teach her how to swim. She could wear her uniform in if she wanted; he didn’t care.
As if sensing one another’s intent, Lexi and Vassalus spun around simultaneously and charged back down the beach until they skidded to a halt, kicking sand up on Arthur.
“I daresay the beach may not ever end,” Vassalus said. “I saw nothing but beach as far as I went.”
“The same for me,” Lexi said. “Yet … I feel deep inside that it would — if we went far enough.”
“Well, your instincts should be satisfactory in such matters,” Vassalus said pompously. That was probably as much of a compliment as he could muster.
“What’s beyond the edge of the bluff?” Morgan asked.
“A second, shorter cliff,” Vassalus replied.
“We should probably head back,” Arthur sighed.
Morgan shrugged. “We could have lunch in the meadow. I wouldn’t mind sitting in the grass for a short while.”
Sure enough, a picnic basket sat waiting for them at the edge of the meadow. They basked in the sun until Morgan’s skin started to turn a little pink (at about 25 minutes), eating tuna sandwiches and chips and drinking iced tea. Then Morgan taught Arthur the basics of operating his c|slate. She was far more patient with him than he had expected. She only snapped at him once every few minutes.
At last, they put away their c|slates, Arthur laced his boots back on, and they headed back inside and across the hall to the door labeled THE WASTES. Like Lyonesse, this one didn’t have a glowing sigil in the doorway either.
“You think this is going to be the opposite of Lyonesse?” Arthur said.
“Duh,” Morgan responded.
Arthur felt the same sense of dread and revulsion as before when he approached the door. He reached out toward the handle, took a deep breath, and steeled himself to face whatever was in here. As soon as he pulled open the door, a howling blast of icy air struck them head on. Dust blew into the hallway. Maid wasn’t going to be happy about that. Or maybe she would: she was designed to clean, after all.
The landscape was gray, desolate, dry, and empty. Mists drifted over the land, and he thought maybe he saw the faint outline of mountains in the distance. He stepped in, with Morgan and the others right behind him. His boots crunched through sand that looked as if it had been scorched long ago. A wind parted the mists, and he could see now that on the horizon, rock formations — or perhaps stone ruins — dotted the landscape. He glanced over his shoulder. The entrance on this side was a stone arch, similar to the one in Lyonesse. It was built into a steep cliff that seemed to stretch forever in both directions and so tall that the top was shrouded in mist.
“I don’t get it,” Arthur said. “If Lyonesse is there for the Paladin to relax, what’s the point of this?”
“Maybe there used to be something important here,” Lexi said, “but it was destroyed … perhaps by the warlock.”
“If so, then why didn’t Lady Ylliara fix it when she arrived and restored the Manse?” Arthur asked.
“Maybe she didn’t expend the energy to because it wasn’t something we needed,” Morgan pondered. “But it is called the Wastes, and it does fit the description.”
“Too true. Perhaps this place is intended for training,” Vassalus offered. “Maybe it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be right now …”
Shaking his head, Valet stepped in front of them.
“None of those things then?” Arthur said.
A sudden cry pierced the howling winds, and Arthur thought he saw something move in the distance.
“Is it safe here?” Arthur asked.
Valet and Arms both shook their heads.
“So it’s not safe, and we don’t know the point of it,” Arthur said. “On top of that, there are no shades here for us to eliminate. I say we leave.”
“Agreed,” Morgan replied.
Both servitors nodded their agreement, as well.
Suddenly, a beast that resembled a cross between a lion and a bull, but was as large as a car, launched out from behind a rock formation a hundred yards away and rocketed toward them, snarling.
“Time to go!” Arthur yelled.
The beast was moving impossibly fast, covering ten yards per bound.
“Go, go, go!” he yelled.
15
Twelve Beasts of Training
In a mad rush, everyone cleared out through the portal — just in time. Arms slammed the door shut, and the beast slammed into the other side of the door. Morgan reactivated her shield, and Arthur drew both guns. Lexi and Vassalus waited beside the door, one to each side, to ambush the monster if it came through. But Arms and Valet didn’t take up defensive positions or draw their weapons.
“Are we safe now?” Arthur asked.
Valet nodded.
“The monster can’t reach us?”
Arms nodded.
“That was weird, huh?” Lexi said. “What now?”
Everyone looked at Arthur, who was still puzzling over the Wastes. There had to be a point to it.
“Well … now we …” Arthur shrugged. “I dunno. Take a break?”
Vassalus nodded toward the door to the Inner Sanctum. “Take on the ultimate challenge and prove our mettle?”
“I don’t think so,” Arthur said. “Not yet.”
“We’re going to have to do it sooner or later,” Lexi said. “Best not to wait too long.”
“I know, but we’re just not ready. I think we should go to the Training Room and practice with our weapons until dinner. We need to get better at this. After that, we use the c|slates and see if we can learn more. Then we’ll get a good night of rest and take on Kjor tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Are you sure, Arthur?” Morgan asked. “Lady Ylliara did say that time was of the essence. And there’s not much we can learn in one evening of practice”
“It’s better than nothing.”
“It practically is nothing.”
“Look, I just don’t want to die …”
“No one does, moron.”
“Yes, obviously. But I want to be as ready as possible. We’ve got all that information on what's waiting for us from my dream but no idea how to use it to our advantage. Don't we need a plan?”
“So let's come up with a plan and go.”
“Morgan,” Arthur nearly growled in frustration as he tried to put his reluctance into words, “can’t we please wait till tomorrow? I just need one more night here because … because dying now would be worse than dying a week ago. I’ve just figured out where I belong. I’ve got a home, my own room, and I’ve gotten to actually know …” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.
“Know what?” Morgan said.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Fine,” Arthur snapped. “Now that I’ve gotten to actually know you.”
Was Morgan blushing? She turned and headed down the hallway. “Let’s go
train, then … moron.”
* * *
In the Training Room, Arms made Arthur and Morgan put their weapons away and stand side-by-side. Then, he pulled a lever. Four cannon-shaped devices lowered from the ceiling.
Arthur looked at Arms. “What are those for —”
WHOOSH!
THUMP!
Arthur doubled over as a rubber ball, about half the size of a kickball, struck him in the stomach.
“Hey!” he said, gasping for breath, watching the ball roll away and then disappear with a puff of smoke. “What gives — whoa!”
Arthur dodged to his left as another ball zoomed toward him. He didn’t react fast enough. The ball hit him in the shoulder, and worse, he ran into Morgan and knocked her down.
“Jerk! You touched me again!” she yelled, climbing to her knees with a grim look in her eyes. “How many times do I —”
WHOOSH!
THUMP!
A ball struck Morgan in the chest. She cursed and got to her feet.
“Such language!” Lexi said, deftly dodging a ball shot toward her. “We’ve got to clean your mouth out.”
Morgan shot her a look — and that got her clipped in the knee when she reacted too slowly to the next shot. She moved to activate her force field. Arms paused the session, pointed at her, and shook his head.
“I think the point is to not use the force field, my dear,” said Vassalus.
Morgan sighed. “Fine.”
Arms reactivated the cannons, and this time Morgan and Arthur paid attention. Arthur dodged well enough that he only sometimes got struck, and then it was never a direct hit. Morgan, on the other hand, was a lot slower at reacting to things like this. She took at least a partial hit from every shot, and several direct shots. It was clear why the Manse thought the force field was a good choice for her. Every time a ball hit her, she grunted or cursed or said, “Argh!” She was growing more irritable by the moment, and that was making her worse at dodging the projectiles.
Lexi and Vassalus, on the other hand, never got hit. Arthur wasn’t sure they needed training, so maybe the point wasn’t for them to learn but to stay in shape. Did they need to stay in shape, being numina?
Too much thinking led him into getting bonked in the ribs. The balls did hit pretty hard, almost hard enough to leave a bruise. He understood Morgan’s frustration.
“That’s it!” Morgan said, with a devious look on her face, “I’ve had it.”
Arthur thought she was going to throw up her force field, but instead, Morgan ran straight toward the cannons, and then slid under them. She waved at Arthur from the other side — but a moment later, the smile and the wave disappeared.
A cannon flipped around, launched a ball, and pegged her in the face at point-blank range. With that, she went down. Arms waved a hand, and the cannons lifted back up into the ceiling. Arthur rushed over. Morgan had tears in her eyes, and blood trickled down from her nose onto the Training Room’s rubber floor.
“Morgan, are you all right?” Arthur asked, falling onto his knees beside her.
“Poor dear,” Lexi cooed.
Vassalus turned on Arms and growled, “Unacceptable! Cheating, that was. Lady Morgan was not expecting such a villainous move!”
“It’s okay, Vassalus,” Morgan muttered. “I got too clever. This is what happens when you get too clever without actually knowing the rules.” She pinched her nose and leaned back.
As Arthur caught his breath, thinking about her performance, Morgan eyed him.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“I know you want to laugh at me — go ahead — get it out of your system.”
“I admit, it was funny, the look on your face when the cannon flipped around and aimed at you. But a busted nose isn’t funny. I hate that feeling. I don’t want to laugh. Promise.”
Morgan grunted in response. She let go of her nose and leaned forward. No blood dripped down. She pointed at Arms. “Bring the cannons back down. Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure, madam?” Vassalus asked.
Morgan nodded. “Do it. But let’s make it interesting.”
“What’ve you got in mind?” Arthur asked.
“Let’s try running and moving around the room. That should be easier than just staying in the same area.”
The cannons dropped and began firing, quickly proving Morgan wrong. As they moved, the cannons flipped and swiveled, easily tracking their progress. The cannons also decided to up their game, as well. Sometimes, they would fire two balls at them instead of just one. Morgan still got at least clipped with every shot, and Arthur was getting hit more and more. Finally, when he was out of breath and had just taken a shot to the shoulder, he held up a hand.
“That’s enough.”
Arms made the cannons stop.
Morgan looked irritated. She was clearly the kind of person who wanted to keep doing something until she mastered it — even when it was futile.
“I’m sure we have other skills we need to work on,” Arthur told her. “And you do have a force field to use in battle.”
“Okay … fine. What now?”
Arms lowered the targets for the rayguns.
“Good,” Arthur said. “This will let us catch our breath.”
They got into position where Arms wanted them to and took their shots. After a few minutes, Arms pulled a lever, and the targets began zooming toward them — worse, they weaved and bobbed and zigzagged as they did so. It took five shots before Arthur got his dead-center, when it was halfway to him. Morgan kept missing her target. When it got three-fourths of the way to her, the target stopped and flashed red. A blaring buzzer sounded in the most irritating way possible.
Morgan threw her raygun down in frustration. “I’m no good at this!”
“You will get the hang of it, my dear,” Vassalus said. “It just takes practice.”
“But Arthur doesn’t have any trouble with it at all.”
“But he was born for it,” Vassalus told her. “We each have our unique skills.”
“Yeah, I can’t work any of the tech here,” Arthur said. “That’s something I’m going to have to work at, just like you’ll have to work at this.”
Sulking, Morgan picked up her raygun and gestured for Arms to give it another go. After half an hour of firing at targets, with Morgan getting buzzed half the time and Arthur getting buzzed once (the targets kept speeding up after each successful attempt), they took a break. But not a long one. Arms, it seemed, was quite the taskmaster in his domain. He made Arthur do more target practice with the rayguns, while Morgan had to use the telekinetic power of her gloves to pick up rubber cannonballs from a distance and move them around. She was better at that.
After what seemed like another half hour, Arms pulled the smallest canister from the wall and held it up.
“Crap,” Morgan said, standing.
Arthur drew his rayguns. “Let’s do this. Numina, you ready?”
Vassalus and Lexi nodded.
Arms tapped on the canister twelve times … did that mean they were going to have to face twelve of … whatever those were?
“We need a plan,” Morgan said.
“Problem is, we don’t know what to plan against,” Lexi cautioned.
“Let’s stick close together and back away from the canister,” Arthur said. “Once we see what we’re facing, then we can come up with a plan. And be careful, everyone — we can’t afford to get injured. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Should we even be doing this, then?” Morgan asked.
“Well, if we can’t handle this, then maybe we aren’t ready to face the —”
Smoke billowed out from the canister and formed into twelve beasts that looked like monkeys with lobster claws for hands and eagle wings. The beasts shot toward them en masse.
“Morgan, shield up!” Arthur said. “Protect us from the front. Lexi and Vassalus, you guys protect from the rear. I’m going to shoot at them. As soon as anyone spots the red dot, let me know.�
�
Morgan clapped her wrists together. “On the neck, moron. Pay attention.”
“Oh.” Arthur had been so focused on the plan that he hadn’t noticed.
Ten minutes later, they were exhausted, scratched, and bruised up a bit, but otherwise okay. Arthur had taken out most of the creatures with shots, while Lexi and Vassalus had taken out a few that had tried to circle around behind them. Arms capped the canister and gave them a nod of approval. Together with Morgan, Arthur slumped down against a wall, exhausted and drenched in sweat.
“That was intense,” Arthur said.
“He went easy on us,” Morgan replied.
“But it was still intense. I’m going into the hot tub, tonight — after my shower, of course.”
“I’ll need the hot tub too, so don’t hog it.”
“You don’t have your own hot tub?”
“Just a small shower,” Morgan replied. “My room is not … as fancy as yours.” She tilted her head. “Wonder what that says about you?”
“That I’m tired of sharing a bathroom with my grandmother and living in a closet-sized room?”
“Maybe. I think it means you're a Mr. Fancy Pants.”
“A Mr. Fancy Pants?” Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, that’s me all right.”
Morgan took out her c|slate and stretched it to the size of a large tablet. She still had her gloves on, and they weren’t finished powering down. She scrolled and swiped across the screen. Then suddenly, the glove on the hand that was swiping lit up, and her hand made full contact with the screen. The glove gave off a spark, and that slammed Morgan back against the wall. But her hand didn’t leave the screen. Her eyes went wide, staring off absently into space, and she didn’t budge at all.
16
Interfacing
“Morgan?!”
Arthur grabbed Morgan’s hand and ripped it away from the c|slate. If not for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, Arthur would’ve thought that she was dead.
Blinking again, she seemed to pop back into herself. She lifted the glowing glove up in front of her as it powered down. Her eyes drifted to the c|slate, and then to Arthur — narrowing. Annoyance twisted up her face.
The Warlock's Gambit (The Arthur Paladin Chronicles) (Volume 2) Page 12
