Nemesis_Knight

by Michael D. Young

  That being said, I often worry about him. He is so talented that I fear that he’s sometimes distracted by his own success. In battle, he acts as if he’s invincible, and I fear that these traits together may prove to be his undoing. He’s become very secretive as of late. He and Mercurio act as if they are planning something, but are hesitant to include me. I can only hope it is the nervousness of his impending fatherhood and his separation from his dear wife that are eating at him and causing him to act strangely.

  I shall write again soon when we have results. I do so enjoy receiving mail in our unique way. It’s sometimes useful in other ways as well. The other day, one of your mailboxes appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a fight. My opponent was so taken aback by its appearance that he let his guard down, allowing me to defeat him.

  Do not worry about us. We have been quite well protected, and remember that even if we fail, we have the assurance that our lives and affections are more enduring than death.

  Yours,

  Karl Heinrich

  Rich lowered the paper, and for a moment, he was only aware of his racing heartbeat. The letter had obviously been written to his grandmother from his grandfather many years ago, and it talked about his father. It confirmed the connection between his father and the Corridor, and had hinted that they had been trying to get in. Now if he could just find one of these master keys they had been talking about.

  Rich was about to read the letter again when Aaron burst back into the room. “Rich, I’m so sorry. You cousins are downstairs watching…uh…the TV It was very interesting. There was a man dressed in black armor. He looked like a nemesis, and he had this terrible glowing red sword of light that hummed when he wielded it. Is this an actual enemy we might face in this world?”

  Rich barely fought down the urge to laugh at his friend’s naivety. “No. Not unless you’re playing a video game.”

  Aaron wrinkled his brow in confusion, and then suddenly, his eyebrows shot up in unison. “Ah, yes, a video game. I have seen others playing them. I really liked the one with the monkey throwing barrels at the little red man.”

  “When’s the last time you saw someone playing a video game?”

  Aaron shrugged. “It has been a while. Do you play them?”

  Rich nodded, but stopped himself before he could go into further detail. If Donkey Kong was the last thing Aaron had seen, the games these days would blow his mind. Then they’d both be distracted, and the fate of the world might be in jeopardy. He took Aaron by the shoulder and led him out of the room.

  “Someday after this whole nemesis thing cools down, remind me to show you today’s video games.”

  Rich led Aaron downstairs, and sure enough, found his cousins in front of Star Wars. They glanced up briefly when Rich entered, muttered a quick hello, and then returned to watching a galaxy far, far away.

  Rich and Aaron took a seat next to them and saw that though the girls were distracted by the movie, they looked like they couldn’t wipe the frowns off their faces.

  Rich leaned in closer. “Hey, girls, is something wrong?”

  Marie paused the movie and glanced over at him. She looked as if someone had just insulted her brand-new pair of shoes, “Oh, nothing.”

  Rich wasn’t fooled for a second. “Nothing? It doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “We’re just tired, okay?” Erica added, quickly resuming the movie.

  Getting any information was going to be like getting Mr. Bickmann to smile. Rich changed his strategy. He tapped Erica on the shoulder, and she turned to look at him. Instantly, Rich made eye contact and was hit with a wave of disappointment and worry.

  His cousin didn’t seem to be able to look away, and the feelings kept coming. It took Rich a moment to focus in on the source. Though he didn’t hear any specific words or see any specific images, he got the distinct impression that the dark feelings centered around his aunt.

  Rich blinked, severing the connection. Without skipping a beat, he asked the next logical question. “Is something wrong with your mom?”

  Both Marie and Erica broke down in tears, which they tried to wipe away. Marie took a moment to compose herself and then pointed silently toward the kitchen. Rich saw the problem at once. The kitchen was a mess, a combination of all the day’s meals and some from the day before. Rich saw the skillet and plates from breakfast still piled high next to the sink with pieces of long-dried, stuck-on food clinging to them. Other stacks of dishes accompanied the first, creating a miniature city of towers and lopsided buildings. Rich winced. For his aunt to have left things in such a state, something must be very wrong indeed.

  Rich thought back to all the strange things that had happened this week—from the fire in his mother’s room to the earthquake at school—and suddenly wondered if something sinister had happened to Laura. Was it possible that his nemesis was targeting her now? He shook his head. It didn’t make sense. His nemesis was probably still in the penalty box, or whatever they called it. It had to be something else. Bad things happened to good people every day.

  Rich reached forward and put his hands on Marie’s shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Where is she now?”

  Erica pointed toward the stairs. “Asleep already, I think. She came home after running to the store and went right up to bed.”

  “She was supposed to take us swimming at the indoor pool, but she completely forgot.”

  Rich’s mind raced, wondering how he could make it up to them. Their sadness weighed on him as if he had suddenly picked up a huge camping backpack. He thought about his schedule the next day, and an idea struck him like a whiff of pleasant perfume.

  “Hey, girls, have you ever been to a medieval fair?”

  Erica’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s that?”

  Rich smiled, trying to show all his teeth. “Let’s just say you’ll need those princess costumes you always want to wear.”

  At this, they both perked up. “Really? Sounds awesome.”

  “I’ll take you both tomorrow. It will be fun. Last year, I learned how to sword fight, and I was pretty good at it. Maybe I’ll get to show you.”

  “Cool, thanks!”

  Rich turned looked up the stairs. “I’ll go check on your mom.”

  He turned to see if Aaron was going to follow him, but found him engrossed in the movie. He decided to leave him alone.

  Rich snuck up the stairs and paused right outside Laura’s door. It was left slightly ajar, and no light came from within.

  He slid the door open and peered inside. His aunt had laid out an expensive air mattress where his mother’s bed had once been. She was sprawled out on the mattress, with a pile of pillows propping up her right foot. Light spilled in from the hallway, and she stirred. Rich hesitated for a moment and then ventured a few steps forward. She stirred again, and her eyes opened into sleepy slits.

  “Rich, is that you?”

  Rich and knelt by his aunt’s bedside. “Yes, Aunt Laura, it’s me. Is everything okay?”

  Laura yawned and propped herself up on one elbow. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine. Just a little … tired, that’s all.”

  Rich gestured at the pile of pillows. “What about those? Do you usually just put one foot up when you sleep?”

  Laura shrugged and knocked over the pile with the same foot that had been resting there. “Oh, really, it’s nothing. Don’t you worry about it.”

  Rich reached out with his senses and immediately realized that Laura was not telling him the truth. He felt great pain coming from her foot, and wondered if she would even be able to stand up.

  “I think the girls are a little worried about you. And I saw the dishes downstairs and thoug
ht something might be wrong.”

  Laura’s eyes shot open like someone had poured ice water down her back. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’ll just go ahead and get that …”

  Laura attempted to stand, but crashed hard to the floor as soon as her weight shifted to her right foot. Rich moved to catch her, but luckily, the mattress broke her fall first. She grimaced in pain, but immediately concealed it with a less-than-convincing smile.

  “Don’t try that again,” Rich warned. “Lie back down and tell me what happened.”

  “Oh, Rich. It was so dumb. I was just running down the stairs to get the phone, and I tripped, and then my ankle. I feel so stupid…”

  The rest of her words were drowned out in a round of sobbing. Rich placed his hands on her shoulders and reached out with his healing power. He found the ankle and started to draw the pain from it. His arm suddenly flared with pain as if someone had taken a torch to it. He gritted his teeth and helped his aunt return to a reclined position. Her eyes fluttered peacefully, and no sooner had she hit the pillow than she had drifted back to sleep.

  Rich released his hold and fell promptly to the floor next to the mattress. He wished he could stay there himself, but he thought it might look weird if anyone walked in. Instead, he raised himself to his knees and crawled back out of the room, being careful to shut the door behind him. He lay on the floor and felt as if he’d just attempted his first marathon. He knew, however, that he couldn’t just lie there. Aunt Laura had done so many great things for him, and now she needed his help.

  He didn’t feel like doing anything. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. Suddenly, he thought of Mallory. Her beautiful face filled his mind, and he wondered what they might do together tomorrow. Maybe he could do something for her, maybe even get her a present. But what? He’d never really had to do something nice for a girl, at least not one his age.

  He racked his brain and realized the things he knew about romance came from movies and comic books. The guys in those were all better looking, and a writer told them what to say. Did all girls really like candy, flowers, and poetry? Mallory didn’t really seem like most girls.

  Then another thought struck unexpectedly and scattered all the others—the untouched mountain range of dishes. His aunt wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, and she’d be doubly depressed in the morning if she had to face that many dishes.

  The thought made him groan. He could probably count the number of times he’d washed dishes on one hand.

  Come on. I can create things with my mind, survive sword fights …what are a few little dishes going to do to me?

  He tried to rise, but he felt like someone had dumped Super Glue on his muscles.

  He focused all his energy on his knee and inched it forward enough to prop himself up. “I’m going to do the dishes,” he announced to no one in particular. Nothing happened. He hadn’t really expected anything.

  “I’m going to go wash every one of those crusty plates,” he said with more conviction

  Mallory’s dazzling smile flared up in front of him like a searchlight. He felt his knees falter. It was official. He was going to wash those dishes even though he wanted nothing more than to sleep until next afternoon.

  He managed to stand and catch hold of the stair railing. He stumbled down the stairs, reached the bottom, and announced in a triumphant voice, “I’m going to do the dishes!”

  All three people on the couch turned around as if a robber had announced he wanted all of their money. They gazed at him in amazement for a few seconds, and then one of the girls chimed in, “Uh, good, I guess. Do you want us to help you?”

  Rich nodded. “Please. I don’t know if I’d come back in one piece if I tried to tackle them on my own.”

  They shut off the movie and attacked the dish pile. After loading what they could into the dishwasher, Rich scrubbed what was left while the two girls rinsed, and Aaron dried the best he could. He looked even clumsier than Rich felt, which made Rich feel just a little bit better.

  Instead of tiring out, Rich felt new life seeping into his bones. For a moment, he forgot about Mallory and had fun teasing his cousins with an occasional splash or creating soap-bubble facial hair. He quickly realized, however, that their soggy rags and mountains of suds provided the girls with even better weapons, and he quickly gave up.

  It took them a solid forty minutes to clean the kitchen, but when they looked at it afterwards, they all admitted that it looked pretty good. Maybe not up to Laura’s level of perfection, but enough of an improvement that she probably wouldn’t complain when she came down in the morning.

  With the movie forgotten, they all scrambled up to bed. Instead of sleeping, however, both Rich and Aaron sat on the edges of their beds, facing each other. “That felt pretty good. I’m glad we did that.”

  “Yes,” Aaron agreed. “That was quite remarkable soap. I have never seen so many bubbles. Sometimes, I do wish that I had been born in these times instead. There are so many…”

  His voice trailed off, and his eyes grew misty. “I don’t know. I was going to say wonderful things. But then again, there are many awful things as well. The way most people treat each other…well, it’s just different.”

  Rich bit his lip, unsure how to respond. He knew firsthand what Aaron was talking about, probably more than most. “What can we do about it? What can the two of us really do?”

  Aaron raised his head, his face solemn. “We must help those we can. But it’s not enough just to help all the people we like. Sure, that’s important. I bet your aunt will be very grateful. Then again, if anything’s ever going to get better, you have to help even the people who are not kind to you.”

  Rich thought about Joe, Nadia, the gang under the bleachers, and all the people in school who stared and pointed at him, wouldn’t let him sit with them at lunch, left him off their sports teams, and didn’t include him in their circles of friends. A hard lump formed in the pit of his stomach and refused to leave.

  “I think some of those people really can’t be helped. I mean, even if we tried to help them, they’d laugh and throw it back in our faces. How can we even think about something like that?”

  Aaron stood and came over to Rich. “You have to believe me. I know it seems crazy, but if you ever want to realize your true power as a paladin, you must learn how to overcome this obstacle.”

  Rich’s stomach churned and his face hardened. “I’d rather fight my nemesis ten times than help them. Isn’t there some other way?”

  Aaron shook his head. “None.”

  Rich’s mask cracked. “But how do you know? I don’t think I could take it if I tried something and they spit it back in my face.”

  Aaron leaned back and considered his answer for a few moments. “Rich, I am going to tell you something I have not mentioned in hundreds of years. I do not know if I will ever speak of it again, so please, listen carefully.”

  Rich leaned in. “You’ve got my attention.”

  “I died so young because I failed to defeat my nemesis. Someone I loved betrayed me to the enemy, and so my nemesis caught me with my guard down. I have waited for a long time for a chance to redeem myself, to help someone be less foolish than I was. I—”

  Marie burst through the door, a frantic gleam in her eye. “Rich! Rich!”

  Rich leaped to his feet. “What’s the matter? Is something else wrong with your mom?”

  “No! It’s, well, just come quick!”

  Rich followed, Aaron’s story momentarily forgotten. They followed Marie into the guest bedroom, which they had been using while they stayed there. She flung open the door and barely stifled a squeak. Marie’s finger shot out, indicating the center of the room. “Look!” she waile
d. “It just appeared out of nowhere!”

  Rich’s mouth went slack as his eyes glimpsed an all-too-familiar sight. A silver mailbox on a post. And the flag was up.

  It took the better part of thirty minutes for Rich and Aaron to convince the girls that they were having a strange dream, probably because of doing too many dishes.

  Working together, and pulling as hard as they could, they lifted the mailbox, post and all, from the floor and stashed it out of sight. Once the frightened girls had been soothed back to sleep, Rich set the mailbox up again in his room, opened the door, and took out the letter.

  It looked exactly like the first letter he’d received from his mother. It had his name on the back in flowing script and the wax seal on the front. He opened it immediately and withdrew the paper inside.

  Dear Rich,

  I hope this letter landed in the right room. It’s a little hard to aim. I didn’t mean to bug you again so soon, but things have changed. Our enemies are closing in, and I am forced to do drastic things to stay safe. I can’t enter the sanctuary with the other knights without your father, and even if I could, they’re probably pretty angry with me. I just have to keep looking for the Corridor and your father. It recently showed up close to home and I can’t miss this chance. I had hoped to take you with me, but you’ll just have to come when you can.

  So, I need to tell you the secret of entering the Corridor. You shouldn’t share this information with anyone, especially if your nemesis could be listening. You have to stand directly below the Corridor with something that has been lost and found again. You then say the words “As a paladin, I use the first key to open the first door.”