The Warlock's Gambit (The Arthur Paladin Chronicles) (Volume 2) Read online

  The Warlock's Gambit

  The Arthur Paladin Chronicles: Episode 2

  David Alastair Hayden

  Pepper Thorn

  Contents

  Copyright

  Morgan’s Chronicle

  1. Deep Cover

  2. More Than Just a Dream

  3. Rooms for None

  4. Multiversal OS

  5. Arthur’s Sweet Suite

  6. The Observatory

  7. Shadows of the Bath

  8. Are We Having a Moment?

  9. The Infiltrator

  10. Forgotten Secrets

  11. Ramifications Inconclusive

  12. c|slates — OMG!

  13. Morgan’s Room

  14. The Wastes and Lyonesse

  15. Twelve Beasts of Training

  16. Interfacing

  17. Flickering Out

  18. Thump, Thump, Thump

  19. Blackout

  20. With a Little Help from My Friends

  21. The Warlock’s Gambit

  22. Arthur’s Gambit

  Afterword

  Also by David Alastair Hayden

  THE WARLOCK’S GAMBIT

  The Arthur Paladin Chronicles: Episode 2

  by David Alastair Hayden

  with Pepper Thorn

  Published by Typing Cat Press

  Copyright © 2014 by David Alastair Hayden

  All Rights Reserved

  Version 1.0 | September 2014

  Cover illustration and Graphic Design by Pepper Thorn

  No part of this work may be reproduced or distributed through any means without the written permission of the author, except for short quotations in reviews and other articles. Please purchase only from authorized sellers, and please do not participate in the piracy of copyrighted works. The author deeply appreciates your support.

  Created with Vellum

  Morgan’s Chronicle

  Tomorrow morning will probably be my last. That’s why I’m writing this. So maybe someone, somewhere, someday will know what happened to us. Most likely, the Manse will get taken over by shadows, then the Aetherial being animating it will die, and the whole thing will disintegrate in less than a year. Of course, if that happens, it’s not likely that anyone will get the chance to read this. But my therapists all say that writing down your problems will make you feel better, so here goes …

  Me

  I’m Morgan Kristina Apple, 1st Companion to Multiversal Paladin #107, and this is my tale of daring and adventure. To any person reading this without permission or before the year 2121: Obviously, I can’t stop you, which means I’m dead. You managed to open and decrypt this file from my c|slate — bypassing a 32-digit passcode and 256-bit encryption — which means you have mad programming skillz. Congrats: I hate you.

  I’m a fourteen-year-old girl.

  Five feet — 90 lbs. — black hair — gray eyes — pale skin.

  Blood type: AB negative.

  From the planet Earth, though you may call it Terra.

  I love manga, drawing, and anything tech-related. I don’t like wearing colors, so I only dress in black-and-white. Red is okay in tiny amounts — super tiny — think buttons. I wear a school uniform, even though my school doesn’t require one. I even wear it on the weekends. I’m super smart, but I got held back a grade because I didn’t relate well with others. I still don’t. Also, I had family problems. I’m not going to talk about those right now. Everyone says I’m very pretty, but I don’t see the point of being attractive if it doesn’t make people like me, which it doesn’t. That’s okay, because I don’t like people. Except for my best friend — my only friend …

  Arthur

  Arthur Primus Paladin is the 107th Multiversal Paladin.

  He is a moron.

  He’s fourteen years old, too. Also held back a grade.

  He’s a good bit taller than me and sort of lanky — gold eyes — chalk white hair — bronze skin.

  Blood type: unknown (note to self: must find out!).

  Most people think Arthur looks really weird, but I think he looks cool. He’s actually kinda cute, too … if you like sullen and mopey. And I think he’s part alien. That all comes from his dad, the last Multiversal Paladin. Arthur inherited the title after his dad died, like ten years ago, but Arthur just found out a couple of days ago. So he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. Which means we’re totally screwed.

  Did I mention Arthur’s a moron? The doofus didn’t even realize that we’d been friends for a year, ever since I came to Rockville Middle. We have two very important things in common. We both like to draw, and we don’t fit in. We also see the same shrink, but that’s a coincidence. We even sit beside each other every day in class and at lunch. Well, I sit beside him. Like I said, he’s a moron.

  How we got here

  Arthur only found out about his dad and the whole Multiversal Paladin thing because this special plastic disc over his heart broke. The device was hiding him from the Manse and the Aetherians, as well as from the Entropians — those are the bad guys. Basically, Aetheria = good, and Entropy = evil. That’s what we’ve been told, and it seems true. We don’t know why Arthur was hidden from both the bad guys and the good guys. Really, there’s a whole lot we don’t know. It would be easier to list the things we do know. But I’m not going to do that, because it would be depressing. These featureless shadow men, called shades, showed up and chased Arthur. He ran into me and knocked me down a hill — because he’s a jerk who doesn’t look where he’s going. The Manse showed up to rescue Arthur, because it’s his home and his destiny. But then it left Earth with us inside. Which would be fine, except that the Manse is full of Entropians. Mostly shades, but there are nastier ones, sort of uber-shades, called wraiths. Those are really hard to destroy. And then there’s their nasty boss, the warlock. Some rescue, huh?

  The Manse is how the Multiversal Paladin crosses the universe to help the Aetherians and fight the forces of Entropy. You may know this already, but there are three universes: the Aetherian, the Entropian, and the regular one. The Manse is sort of like a ship, and it travels along the Song Between the Verses, whatever that means. It looks like a cottage on the outside, but the inside is like a complete mansion, so the layout kinda defies the laws of physics as we know them. Rooms that should overlap, based on their size, don’t. And like I said, it was filthy with shades, along with some wraiths. We haven’t tried to take on the warlock in the Inner Sanctum yet. That’s for tomorrow morning. He is serious bad news and will almost certainly kill us.

  When it found us, the Manse was dead, thanks to all the shades inside, and because it had used the last of its energy to rescue us. Ylliara, one of the Aetherians, arrived sort of by lightning bolt and gave herself up to power it and keep it alive for a while longer — indefinitely if we can defeat the warlock. Ylliara gave us our numina too: Lexi and Vassalus. Vassalus is a wolf. He's mine. Lexi is Arthur's, and she's a bit of a mess. Naturally. Half the time she's his grandmother (the Paladin one, not the awful one he lived with on Earth after his parents died) and half the time she's all lynx. The numina are made of condensed, solidified light in the same way that the shades are made of shadows.

  So now it's me, Arthur, Vassalus, Lexi, and the servitors. The servitors are sort of part of the Manse and … well, they serve the Multiversal Paladin and his (or her) companions. They are made of light like the numina, but they don't have faces and can't talk. Honestly, even though they’re super nice, they really creep me out. I really like the Aetherians’ style, though. Everything t
hey make is black and white and gray. Same style as me! It’s almost like I was born for this job. Which is lucky since, like I said, we’re probably going to die tomorrow. But you know, in the last few days I've fired a raygun, used a force field, and fought alien monsters in a house that's also a spaceship — with my best friend. And that’s just about the coolest thing ever.

  1

  Deep Cover

  It was a dream; perhaps a memory as well. Arthur was three years old, at the most. He was sitting in someone’s lap, watching.

  A woman faced off against five bull-sized monsters that looked like angry hyenas with tusks and quill-spiked tails. A silvery cloak trailed down her back, covering a black and gray Multiversal Companion uniform. She wore a silver circlet that held a ruby in place on the center of her forehead. On her hip was a holstered raygun; she didn’t draw it. Instead, she held her gloved hands out and made a fist with each. Immediately, a blade of energy about a foot in length sprouted from the back of each hand. A smile lit up her face, and her blue eyes sparkled. Arthur hadn’t seen this woman in person in eleven years, but he remembered her: Amelia Nelson Paladin, his mother.

  One of the beasts leapt toward her. She sliced it with one of her blades and pirouetted out of the way. A gash opened on its side, but it didn't go down. The only way to kill these monsters, he knew, was to hit them in one particular spot, marked by a red dot. The remaining four charged toward her, all at once, picking up speed as they closed in. Arthur flinched and nearly screamed.

  “Don’t worry, little one,” said the man holding him. It was a very familiar voice, but he couldn’t quite place it. He didn’t look at the man to see; he was too focused on the battle. “Your mother is one of the best. It would take more than five chugas to defeat her.”

  As the beasts pounced toward her, Amelia jumped and did a backflip high up into the air. Two of the beasts collided. One scrambled aside. The last skidded to a halt, and Amelia deftly landed on its back. Arthur’s eyes went wide. Amelia scanned the creature, and then rolled her eyes. She turned to someone off to the side as the creatures began to regroup.

  “Seriously? You put the mark on its belly?”

  Arthur recognized the figure she spoke to: Arms, the servitor in charge of the Training Room. Arms was a construct of Aetheria, entirely monochrome, with every inch of skin covered in what looked like bandages. He wore an old-fashioned army helmet, a flak jacket, and gray-and-white camouflage pants. A broadsword was belted to his waist. Servitors like Arms couldn’t talk, so his response to Amelia was a simple shrug.

  The creature began to buck, trying to throw her from its back. She leapt off, rolled under one of the others, and stabbed into its stomach. The creature turned into a cloud of smoke that immediately sped across the room and poured into a cylinder that Arms held in his hand. She got up, took three steps, slid under another, and dispatched it as well. The three remaining chugas had looped around and were all charging her. Once again, she leapt over them. This time, when she landed, she knelt, threw the hood of her silvery cloak over her head — and disappeared.

  Where had she gone? The beasts didn’t know either. They circled around, sniffing and twitching their ears. As one drew near to the spot where she’d knelt, suddenly she reappeared, knifed it in the belly, and then disappeared again as soon as she stopped moving.

  One of the last two chugas charged the spot where she had vanished and fell for the exact same trick. But the last one was smarter. It stayed rooted in a spot thirty paces away, waiting for her. Several tense seconds ticked by, but the beast refused to budge. Finally, she stood and threw back her hood, reappearing with an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” she said to the beast. “Have it your way.”

  The beast charged at her, and she closed her eyes. Rings of red light spiraled out of the gem on her forehead.

  “Stop!” Amelia said in a commanding tone, and the beast ceased moving immediately. “Stay put.”

  She opened her eyes; the energy rings stopped streaming toward the beast. She walked up to it. As she reached her knife under its belly, the chuga started to twitch, but it was too late.

  The cloud of smoke zoomed into the container, and Arms capped it.

  “Without a single raygun shot,” she said to Arms.

  He nodded his approval.

  A man stepped out of the shadows, clapping. “Well done, my love.”

  The man had long, snowy hair tied back in a ponytail, tanned skin, and gold eyes. Quintus Paladin: Arthur’s dad. Quintus had a broad, muscular frame, and he was wearing the full Multiversal Paladin armor, including the helmet. For some reason he couldn’t recall at the moment, that pleased Arthur. He had two rayguns in holsters. Also, magnetically clipped to his belt was the handle of a sword — a handle of glimmering steel wrapped in black leather with a simple crossbar and a pommel bearing a sparkling diamond with a weave of gold webbing around it.

  But if that was his dad, then whose lap was Arthur sitting on? He was about turn to see, but his mother distracted him. She patted him on the head and ruffled his hair. He stared into her smile, a mixture of bliss and melancholy stirring inside him. It was strange, but he remembered his dad a lot better than he did his mom.

  The man whose lap Arthur was sitting in spoke, again in that familiar voice that was deep and sibilant. “Well done, Amelia.”

  “Thanks,” she replied as she grabbed a towel and dried the sweat off her face.

  Arms released the chugas again. Quintus waved his hand for more, and Arms opened another canister. From this one emerged a smoke cloud that turned into a truck-sized monster with horns and a spiked tail. Arthur knew this one: It was called a takaturio, and it was incredibly tough and dangerous.

  “Showoff!” Amelia shouted.

  Quintus flashed her a wide smile, then turning to face his enemies, he took the sword from his belt; or rather the handle, because that’s all it was. But then a four foot long blade of pure, blue energy haloed with white light blossomed out from the cross-guard: Bright-Cage, the sword of the Multiversal Paladin.

  Arthur’s eyes were fixed on the blade as his father leapt into battle, swinging it with his right hand while firing shots with the raygun held in his left. His mother sat down beside Arthur and the man with the familiar voice.

  “If something happens, you will take care of Arthur, won’t you, Kjor? Promise me you will.”

  Kjor’s rich voice went soft and grave. “I will look out for him as my own. I promise. But you will return, Amelia.”

  She leaned over and brushed Arthur’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I would never have had a child if we’d known then what we know now. I love Arthur to death, but I wish I’d waited a year. Then I would’ve known what a mistake it was.”

  “Hindsight, Amelia. I fear I shall never see my little ones again either. They will grow up without a father.”

  “Only months ago, I had hoped that when they were older that Arthur would marry your daughter. It was a silly thought then. It seems even sillier now.”

  “It was a good thought.”

  “She is safe? Both of them, and your wife?”

  “As can be.”

  The two fell silent. Arthur continued to watch his father fight. Strangely, Quintus hadn’t destroyed any of the beasts. With a shock, Arthur realized that Quintus was toying with them. The red dots were clearly visible. But the smoke beasts weren’t a threat at all. This was nothing more than a workout for the Multiversal Paladin.

  “He’s showing off for me,” Amelia said as Quintus struck, fired, dodged, and weaved his way between the enemies. “He has always shown off for me.”

  “You know, I don’t even know how you two met.”

  “You don’t? How unfair of me. You told me all about your marriage months ago.”

  “Well, we have had pressing matters to distract us.”

  “All too true,” she replied. “We met on my home world: Earth. I was an archeologist. Quintus had gotten a lead that one of the Artifacts of the Ancients was hidden away
there. I uncovered it from what I had thought was a Mayan tomb while he was en route. As soon as I touched it —”

  “Elder shades awoke,” Kjor said.

  Amelia nodded. “A dozen of them. I was scared out of my mind. Quintus arrived just in time. He defeated the shadows, and then whisked me away in this house. Quintus and I fell in love … you know how you do. I only ever returned to Earth to visit family a few times.”

  “The artifact — do you still have it?”

  “It crumbled to dust in my hands.”

  “Did it?” Kjor sat up straight. “That’s strange. They’re supposed to be indestructible.”

  “That’s what Quintus said,” Amelia replied.

  “Are you sure it was an Artifact of the Ancients?”

  “I felt a tingle of power as it went, and it did wake those elder shades. I took photos before touching it. Quintus said it looked legit.”

  “Could I see those sometime?”

  “Of course. Just ask Quintus after I leave. He has copies.”

  After a few moments of silence, Kjor shifted and said, “Watching you move, Amelia, I’d never have thought you were an archaeologist.”

  She laughed, and her laugh was like music to Arthur. “My dad, Arthur’s Grandpa Nelson, is a martial arts instructor. I took karate lessons as soon as I was old enough to throw my first punch. And I was a good gymnast. I almost competed in the Olympics when I was a teenager.”

  “The Olympics?”

  “An international sports competition; it’s a huge honor to even enter. An untimely knee injury kept me out. I did compete in gymnastics while in college, though.”

  Arthur hadn’t known she was a gymnast — no one had ever told him! Why hadn’t anyone ever told him?! The karate lessons were obvious; Grandpa Nelson had taught him too, until he died. At least he’d known that she was an archaeologist.