A paw swiped his leg; he ignored it.
“Arthur,” Lexi hissed. “Get with it.”
“The warlock, was he in your mind?” Morgan asked. “You can’t let him get to you.”
There was fear in her voice. And she should be afraid. Not only were there shadows and wraiths and a warlock in the Manse, but her only friend was himself a creature of shadow, in some way he didn’t understand. There were three Arthurs: the Multiversal Paladin, a frightened fourteen-year-old boy, and an angry Shadow Arthur. The last had won out, and it was bringing him in synch with the shadows within the Manse. He could feel the darkness growing, shifting, breathing; it was a living thing he could see and almost touch. This shadow force was overtaking him. He couldn’t stop it. He could only try to control it.
Thump — thump — thump — thump — thump.
“The darkness has come,” Arthur said. “Night is falling in the Manse.”
“Arthur, what the heck are you talking about?” Morgan said. “And what’s wrong with your voice. It’s all —”
THOOM!
The Manse shook.
The lights went out. And this time, they didn’t come back on.
19
Blackout
Arthur watched as the others began to panic. He could see … their souls, he guessed. Within each of them, Morgan especially, there burned a bright core, as if they were lit from within by a star. He looked down at himself and saw … darkness … only darkness. If there was a soul within him, it rested deep within.
Morgan used her c|slate as a flashlight. “I think the lights are out for good.”
“We do not have much time,” said Vassalus.
“The sigils will all have gone out too,” said Lexi. “We’d better start our attack now.”
Morgan shrunk her c|slate down and pinned it to her shirt. Then she activated her force field.
“Arthur, do what I did. Then you can see in the dark while you fight.”
“I don’t need it,” he replied. “I can see in the dark just fine.”
And he could, in a way. It was like everything was illuminated with a faint, purplish glow. And with his companions’ glowing centers, he understood how the shades and wraiths could spot them so easily. He could even see the shades and wraiths through the closed door. Within the shadow body of each beat a purple and red heart. In the shades it was a thimble-sized thing connected by a thread that trailed all the way back to their dark-heart stones floating in the Inner Sanctum. In the wraiths beat powerful, unconnected hearts. Their hearts beat in a strange but familiar rhythm of darkness and overwhelming anger. And then he realized: his second heartbeat was in tune with theirs.
Arthur wasn’t the only one to notice this. The shades and wraiths had taken notice, too. They were staring at him in confusion and fascination. They had not expected to encounter another … another warlock? That’s what they thought he was. A part of Arthur deep below the anger knew this was absurd, but that part wasn’t strong enough to interfere — it wasn’t even sure it wanted to.
Arthur walked toward the door, holstering his rayguns as he went.
“Arthur!” Morgan yelled. “Have you gone mad?”
Lexi ran forward to block him.
“Out of my way,” he snarled, and she backed off.
Arthur opened the door to the Grand Hallway. Five wraiths and over a dozen shades were waiting there. More were coming toward him. He was angry, but not as much at them as he was at Kjor and the Hosts. The shades and wraiths were merely weapons, mindless tools.
He stepped toward them, and they backed away. They were enraptured — drawn to him — as if he were giving them new life. They wanted … they wanted direction. They felt his anger; they wanted it unleashed. They wanted a target. They had done nothing but wait here in the Manse for a decade, doing nothing. Apparently, even beings of chaos and disorder needed some direction.
Arthur didn’t want to fight them, not when he could direct them elsewhere. He focused his anger on Kjor, picturing him in his mind, trying to project his desire to fight Kjor onto them. “Fight for me,” he said. “I will give you purpose.”
They listened; they stared; but they did nothing else.
Morgan slipped out of the room with her shield active and her back against the wall. She slid along the wall, edging her way toward the Inner Sanctum. A wraith moved toward her, with two shades at its side.
“Leave her alone,” Arthur commanded.
The wraith growled and lunged toward her. Its claws pounded into the force field. ZZZT-ZAP! The shield wavered. Then the shades struck it too. Their attacks had less effect, but it would all add up and eventually short out the shield. Another wraith was moving to join in. Morgan could barely keep moving toward the Inner Sanctum, since the attacks kept her pinned against the wall.
“I said leave her alone!” Arthur roared as the wraith struck again.
The attacking wraith exploded into a cloud of black smoke. A crystal stone dropped from its center and clinked onto the floor. The black smoke poured into this … this new dark-heart, Arthur guessed, since it had the same purple glimmer within that the others had. The blast had also taken out the three or four nearest shades.
Morgan stared at him in horror, unmoving. He glared at her and mouthed, “Go!”
That display of power had an immediate effect. The shades and wraiths all bowed to Arthur. He tried again to direct them. “Kjor abandoned you. He is a traitor. We must take him out.”
But still, they did nothing. Perhaps they couldn’t act for one warlock against another. Maybe Arthur wasn’t convincing enough. He had no idea.
Morgan disappeared into the Inner Sanctum. This was getting him nowhere. He needed to be alongside her. He needed to be entering the Heart. He had to face Kjor; he had to defeat him. But these useless wraiths and shades were in his way.
“You are completely useless!” he yelled at the nearest wraith.
It too instantly exploded, taking out a couple of nearby shades. A brand new dark-heart clattered to the floor, and the black smoke that had been the wraith flowed into it. He had no idea what he was doing to them, since this wasn’t what happened when they were killed by rayguns or the numina. And as far as he could tell, no shades had emerged from the first dark-heart he had created by destroying a wraith.
Arthur was beginning to think more — to feel more like himself. The room was growing darker; the shades and wraiths became less distinct. The second heartbeat was slowing, and he suddenly realized he was panting for breath. He was tiring out.
The wraiths and shades stood and began to inch toward him.
“Get back!” he yelled.
They paused, then started forward again. Arthur pointed at the nearest wraith and focused his anger. “I ordered you to get back!”
It staggered a few steps away from him, but it didn’t burst into a cloud of smoke. The second heartbeat ceased. The tunnel of shadows sensation vanished. His ability to see in the dark was fading fast. The shades and wraiths surged toward him. He didn’t have enough time to draw his rayguns. By the time they struck, he wouldn’t even be able to see them. He was practically dead already.
20
With a Little Help from My Friends
A moment before the first wraith reached him, several things happened all at once. First, raygun shots echoed from within the Inner Sanctum. POP! A dozen shades disappeared from the hallway. Then, Lexi flashed into view and tackled the wraith nearest to Arthur. Finally, howling like mad, Vassalus dashed right out into the mass of shades and wraiths, drawing their attention.
Arthur couldn’t see anything now, except for a flash of light in the Inner Sanctum, followed by another POP. He backpedaled away from the enemy, hoping the growls, hisses, and scuffling he heard meant that Lexi and Vassalus were successfully keeping them away from him. He drew both rayguns and fired randomly aimed shots ahead. He got lucky and destroyed two shades a moment before they reached him. The burst of raygun fire also took out a shade lunging at
Lexi and injured several others.
The rings of light from the rayguns briefly illuminated the hallway, like lightning bolts in the night sky. It was all he had; he couldn’t risk taking the time to pin his c|slate to his jacket the way Morgan had. Besides, he had no idea how to use it that way. What he needed was for the rayguns to also project flashlight beams.
As soon as he thought that, a continuous beam of white light shone out from the array at the end of each raygun. He swept the beams around the hallway.
Though Lexi had a wraith on the ropes, pinned beneath her, blood dripped from a nasty set of cuts on her side. Vassalus was getting pummeled by a couple of wraiths and several shades. His move to distract them had worked a little too well. He was favoring one leg as he fought, and silvery blood flowed from cuts all over his body.
Arthur pulled the triggers. The raygun blast-rings zoomed down along the flashlight beams and struck a wraith in the head and chest — a moment before it could bring its fists down onto Vassalus’ back with a crushing blow. As that wraith fell, another POP sounded, and another set of shades disappeared.
Arthur took out two shades charging toward him, then scanned the Grand Hallway, counting wraiths. Besides those he’d seen killed, three were missing. Unless Lexi and Vassalus had quickly taken out three when they charged in, while Arthur was in the dark, the numbers just didn’t add up.
With a few more shots, Arthur destroyed a shade near Lexi and injured a wraith fighting Vassalus. With a fourth POP, most of the remaining shades disappeared, though not all of them. He had no idea where those were —
Morgan screamed.
As Arthur stepped forward, about to break into a run toward the Inner Sanctum, a powerful blow struck the back of his head — ringing out against his metal helmet — and knocked him off his feet. A second attack hit him in the back, and wraith claws pierced his armor and sliced into his skin. Though the armor kept the cuts shallow, they burned like alcohol poured onto a wound.
The world spun around Arthur; specks of light danced in his field of vision. As he instinctively crawled away from his attacker, he was struck again on the back of one leg.
With a wraith hot on her heels, Lexi leapt overhead, and tore into the wraith behind Arthur. Arthur rolled over and fired two shots from his spot on the floor, hitting the wraith doggedly pursuing Lexi and destroying it.
Dazed, Arthur climbed to his feet, fired multiple shots in Lexi’s direction, and then staggered toward the Inner Sanctum. As he went, he fired at the remaining shades and a wraith fighting Vassalus. His shots were erratic, but he did manage to wound the wraith in one leg. Once he was past them, Arthur holstered one gun, and then used his free hand to unbuckle his chinstrap. He pulled the dented helmet from his head and cast it aside. Blood trickled down the back of his neck; the dented metal had cut into his scalp.
The cuts on his back and leg were starting to hurt worse — like four, foot-long wasp stings. He gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain, the nausea, and the vertigo. He drew the other raygun again as he stumbled into the Inner Sanctum. He swept the light beams around and found Morgan backed into a corner with a wraith relentlessly pounding against her force field.
Arthur aimed his rayguns just as Morgan’s force field went out. The wraith never saw him, and never stood a chance. Arthur blasted it into oblivion.
He leaned against the doorframe of the Inner Sanctum, panting.
Morgan eyed him carefully. “Are you normal again?”
Arthur nodded.
“Good.” She walked toward him. “How’d you get your raygun to do that?”
The sounds of Lexi and Vassalus fighting bad guys echoed behind him, and he remembered suddenly that he had a job to do. He spun around and began firing shots as quickly as he could down the hallway, sweeping his guns from side to side. He was bound to hit something doing that. He wanted to run and help them, but he just couldn’t clear his head enough to manage that.
“I just thought about how I needed them to work like a flashlight, and they did,” he slurred.
She paused beside him. “We’ve got to get down there and help.”
“I can’t. Too dizzy. Took a nasty blow to the back of my head. This is the best I can do right now.”
“Okay then. Keep shooting. I’ll run down there and help out.”
“I’ll have to shoot through you.”
“That’s okay. You did just a few moments ago. It tingles a bit, that’s all. But I’m not sure if the shots will work if fired through my force field.”
Arthur shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Morgan took off.
“There are still shades out there!” he shouted as he fired several shots through her backside. “I don’t know where they’re coming from!”
“The boys’ bathroom!”
Oh yeah, he’d forgotten all about how they’d left those off for later. Though the shots he fired went through her force field, it seemed to weaken them: kill shots turned into mere wounds, though that was still enough to make a difference.
Morgan reached the numina and immediately began shielding Vassalus, who could barely fight anymore. It didn’t take long, though, for Arthur’s raygun blasts to take their toll on the remaining shadow creatures. He destroyed one wraith and several shades. The remaining wraith was badly wounded, and Lexi, despite her own injuries, finished it off.
The lights came back on, but only up to about a fourth of their normal brightness.
“Clear!” Morgan yelled. She dropped her shield, drew her raygun, and leaned down to say something to Vassalus. Then she took off toward the other end of the hallway.
Lexi and Vassalus limped slowly toward Arthur, with Vassalus careening and staggering. Several times he nearly fell.
“What’s Morgan doing?” he asked when they entered the Inner Sanctum.
“Taking out the dark-heart in the boys’ bathroom,” Lexi panted. “She said she could handle it since we’d destroyed all the shades. I think she’ll be fine. At the worst, she might have to face four newly formed ones … Arthur, are you okay?”
Arthur had slumped down into the doorway. “I will be. I’m not as injured as you are. Vassalus, is there anything I can do for you?”
The wolf numen shook his head slowly as he collapsed onto the floor. He was bleeding all over; patches of white fur were torn loose and, in some spots, barely hanging on. A section was missing from the end of his tail and one of his ears.
“My wounds cannot be patched. All I can do is rest and hope. Should I not make it, Master Paladin, remember me well.”
“You have been a valiant warrior and steadfast rival,” said Lexi as she curled up beside him. She was badly injured too, but her wounds were not as extensive as his. She had all of her ears and her tail, which was good since she didn’t have much of a tail to begin with, being a lynx. As she talked, Arthur thought he spotted a gap where one of her fangs was supposed to be — but it was hard to tell with all the silvery blood staining her muzzle.
“Don’t talk like that,” Arthur said. “You’re going to make it, Vassalus. Both of you will … as long as I can take care of the warlock. It’s all on me now.”
“You will triumph,” Vassalus groaned. “Of that, I am certain. But I am afraid you will have to do it without me.”
“I’ll help,” said Lexi. “I’ve still got a little bite left in me.”
Arthur shook his head. “No. Both of you are staying right here. I do not want you in there. I can’t afford to be distracted because I’m worrying about you.”
“But Arthur —”
“No. Stay here and guard Vassalus — in case we missed some enemies along the way. I mean it. I wouldn’t even let Morgan come along except that I can’t do this without her.”
Morgan was jogging back toward them, but suddenly stopped halfway down the hall. “Arthur! There are two dark-hearts lying on the floor!” She looked all around. “I don’t think they’re working.”
“I created those when I explo
ded those wraiths!”
“You made them?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure how.”
“Should I destroy them?”
Arthur shrugged. “What if they’re not dark-hearts but something else?”
Morgan left them alone. “Good point. For all we know, you’ve trapped the wraiths in the stones and breaking them will let them back out.”
Arthur stood shakily as Morgan entered the Inner Sanctum. Though the lights were barely on, the walls and floor and ceiling of marble glistened with indiscernible symbols, just like in the dream. The triskelion on the wall still glowed, but at a candle’s brightness.
Frowning, Morgan knelt beside Vassalus and patted him gently on the forehead. “Hang in there.”
“For you, Lady Morgan, I shall do my best.”
“Lexi will stay with you.” Morgan turned toward Lexi, clearly expecting disagreement. When none came, she carefully scanned the lynx numen. “Are you okay, Lexi?”
“Well … I am better than garbage breath, and though I’ve got a little fight left in me, Arthur — Master Paladin — ordered me to stay here.”
“Ah.” Morgan turned to Arthur and stated, “You’ve got a concussion, and you’re bleeding.”
“A wraith rung my bell good, but the helmet saved my life — again. The cut’s not bad. I’m already starting to see and think better. Just dizzy is all.”
Morgan chewed at her lip and glanced around. “Since the lights are partly on and not flickering, I think you can afford to rest a little.”
“Give me five minutes.” He sat, with his knees up, and leaned his head against the wall. That sent a dagger of pain into his skull, so he leaned forward and laid his head across his knees. “Five minutes, and then we’ll go.”
“Take fifteen,” Morgan said. “I’ll set a timer. There’s no point in getting killed because you’re too dizzy to shoot straight. But if the lights start flickering or go back off …”
“Then we’ll go in immediately,” he replied, nodding.
The Warlock's Gambit (The Arthur Paladin Chronicles) (Volume 2) Page 14
