Arthur was going to rush in and attack while Kjor was reeling, but suddenly, Morgan yelled, “Heads up, loser!”
Kjor snapped his head up — and the Stone of Unbecoming struck him dead center in the chest, propelled by Morgan’s telekinetic gloves.
“Gotcha!” Morgan exclaimed.
She was alive! Arthur glanced back, smiling. Vassalus was slumped beside her, panting heavily. He must’ve come in along with Lexi.
Kjor’s shadow mantle was peeling away rapidly. He grabbed the orb and tried to pry it free from his body, but Morgan pressed forward with both hands, leaning into it, her brow creased, her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
The orb slammed back into Kjor’s body. The mantle was gone, and the shadows within Kjor and the purple ink of the tattoos on him began to draw out. That seemed to awaken something primal within him, and he began to fight harder. With the orb still in his hands, he managed to separate it from his body. Morgan groaned; her strength was failing. Arthur didn’t know if the process would stop if Kjor threw the stone aside before it was complete. Would the shadows then return? Arthur couldn’t risk finding out, and to make this work, he had to properly defeat Kjor.
He stepped in and — hoping Skrimantan hearts were on the same side of the body as human ones — stabbed Bright-Cage into the right side of Kjor’s chest. The blade pierced all the way through him, as easily as pushing a knife through a block of warm butter. Arthur withdrew the blade, which absorbed ink, shadows, and blood as it went, as if it were some sort of vampire blade. Oh, he really hoped it wasn’t a vampire blade — that wouldn’t end well for him in the long run.
Kjor collapsed onto his side and then rolled onto his back. The last of his shadow mantle fled him as he lay gasping and bleeding on the yellow arm of the triskelion.
“You’ve won,” Kjor said telepathically, and even his mental voice was strained. “Now you’ve got to sell it to the Hosts. Convince them you did all of this on your own.”
Feeling terrible as he did it, as if he were some sort of monster, Arthur stomped a foot into Kjor’s stomach, causing him to double up, retching for breath. He picked up the dark steel blade and tossed it as far away as he could.
“Lexi, guard him. If he tries to do anything, then rip his throat out.”
Lexi stood guard over Kjor, unsteadily, leering down at him with malice in her eyes. Arthur straightened, took a deep breath, and marched over to face the eye of the Hosts. He pointed Bright-Cage at them, and thinking of his favorite books and movies, he tried to conjure up some dramatic flair.
“You do not want to mess with me. I clawed my way out of the grave he put me in. I was trained in secrecy, hidden from you by powers you’ve never heard of. I defeated your infiltrator, and soon, I shall put him in the very same grave he dug for me. If you think I won’t because I’m just a boy, then you do not understand what I truly am. I have my house, my sword, and my birthright now. But I am more than just a Multiversal Paladin. My strength grows by the hour, and I can do things you can’t even imagine.”
Arthur glanced back at the translucent Lady Ylliara and then to her physical form, the girl which was sitting up now and looking around in complete confusion. The eye followed his gaze and then flicked back to him.
“I know who you are, Hosts,” Arthur said, lying. “I know what you are. I have power and knowledge passed down from the Ancients. And now I know everything that your spy knew as well. No man can hide secrets from me. You’ve seen that by mere touch I can separate an Aetherian from their …”
“Essence of ascendance,” Kjor thought to him.
“From their ascendancy,” continued Arthur. “If you get in my way again, you will incur my wrath, and I will destroy you.” Arthur drew the sword back, readying it for a swing. The eye stared at him, unblinking. “Lexi, I’ve probed his mind sufficiently already. He’s useless now. Kill him.”
Arthur swung Bright-Cage and struck the floating shard. The eye blinked as the shard shattered into a hundred pieces that rained down and turned to dust upon striking the ground.
Arthur spun around. “Lexi, don’t!”
She stopped, with her fangs nearly touching the skin of Kjor’s neck.
“Leave him.”
Arthur ran over to Morgan, dropped the sword (it switched off automatically), and knelt beside her. She was sitting up, rubbing the back of her head. “You okay?”
“Other than what I think must be a bruise the size of my back on my back and a nasty bump on the head to match yours?”
“Yeah, other than that.”
“Well, I’m a bit burned.”
Her skin was a deep red, like from a terrible sunburn. “Worse than say … 34 minutes in the midday sun?”
“Shut up.” She touched the back of her head and grimaced. “A few more of these and my brain will be as mushy as yours.”
“At least you’re going to live,” Arthur sighed with relief.
“Obviously, moron.”
“He said you were dying.”
“I lied,” Kjor replied.
A surge of anger spiked through Arthur. Eyes narrowed, he picked up the sword, which activated immediately, and stalked over to Kjor. The warlock was struggling to breathe. He had a hand clasped over the wound on his chest, and blood was pooling underneath him.
“You do a lot of lying.”
“Didn’t have … much choice.”
Gritting his teeth, Arthur pressed the tip of the blade against Kjor’s chest.
“Had to motivate you to … use the Aetherial power,” Kjor moaned, “and to make you angry … so you’d use shadow force. Hosts had to see you use both.”
“If you are my friend, then why did you try to kill me in the Grand Hallway two days ago, when you entered my mind the first time and showed me those horrible visions?”
“You weren’t really in … that much danger.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Arthur snapped.
“Had to test you. I could sense the anger … inside you. My shadows were a shroud that can be removed. Yours … are a part of you.”
“So?”
“So if you’d turned into … a foul, monstrous boy …”
“You would’ve killed me?”
“Yes, Arthur. Despite my promise to … your mother. Too much at stake.”
“And what about Morgan? She’s innocent. She was never supposed to be part of any of this.”
“Neither were you.”
Arthur pressed the tip of the sword through Kjor’s shirt and into his skin. “So you would’ve killed her, too?”
“Yes, and … it would’ve broken me. But one girl’s life … versus that of my wife, son, and daughter? What would … you do?” Gritting his teeth, Kjor went on. “I’d already risked … everything … once before.”
The tip of the sword pricked Kjor’s skin, releasing a trickle of blood that Kjor could hardly spare now. “There had to be some other way. You could’ve —”
“Arthur,” Morgan said, “he’s right. He was making the best choices he could. And he did choose another way. That’s why we’re all here now, alive.”
Lexi nodded. “He made a big gamble. By helping you, even a little, after he had the measure of you, he was giving you the chance to save us and his family.”
“You were never supposed … to come back here,” Kjor gasped. “Another year and … you would’ve been safe … forever. The cloaking device … was supposed to … be unbreakable.”
“Did you kill my father?”
“Yes,” he answered bluntly.
“He trusted you!” Arthur yelled, pressing the sword in again. “How could you?!”
“Because he asked me to,” Kjor said in a pained voice, “and because killing him … it was the right thing …”
“What?! You’re lying to me again!”
Kjor shook his head. “It was … the hardest thing … I ever did.” His tone was mournful, and tears welled in the corners of his eyes. “But you
know … from the vision that big things were … going on. Your father was … compromised … it’s a lot to explain and …” he glanced at Ylliara, both of her “… and I should probably never … speak of it.” Kjor groaned, clutching his chest. “I’m your friend, Arthur. I swear. I am your … Uncle Kjor, just as I was … when you were …” he coughed blood “— when you were a boy. I’ll explain … everything … when you are ready.”
“You will explain it all when you have recovered.”
“You’re not … ready for all of it … you’ve so much to learn. How could I explain … what went wrong if you … don’t even know how things are … supposed to be?”
Well, that was certainly true. Arthur turned off the sword by thought alone and tossed the handle aside. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Think I’ll live. I’m tough, even … for a Skrimantan. Though I’m …” he groaned “… going to need a doctor.”
Arthur looked at the dust that was all that remained of the shard. “Do you think the Hosts bought it?”
“Oh yes,” he paused to cough painfully … “all that talk … about the Ancients and … unknown powers … and you knew about the Stone of Unbecoming … they saw you use shadow force and … separate Ylliara from her Aetherial form.” He shifted and winced. “That should have been … impossible.”
Arthur had figured as much about Ylliara. Later, he would decide whether to be worried or thrilled that he could apparently do the impossible. For right now, all that mattered was that everyone was going to be okay. “So it’s all good?”
Kjor frowned. “My family … should be safe, yes.” His voice was becoming weaker, like nothing more than a whisper. “And you’ve … bought yourself some time. But they will come … and when they do, they are going … to come after you hard. With all the firepower they can muster.”
“Great. Yay me.” Arthur sank to the ground as the adrenaline drained away and his injuries caught back up with him.
“Get used to it. You’re the most important … person in the universe now. Because, you are more … than just another Multiversal Paladin. You’ll always have … a target … on your back.”
As Arthur let that sink in, Lexi nudged his knee with her muzzle, and he dug his fingers into an uninjured section of fur. He noticed Morgan watching him, waiting for his reaction. And he couldn’t help but smile, because … he was relieved.
Sure, all the forces of Entropy would be gunning for him. But really, if they’d known he was alive, they would’ve killed him years ago — before he could defend himself. Now he had time to figure out who he was and what he could do. Even better, he had someone else to help him, someone who had known both his parents. And he knew that the angry darkness that came over him, with its tunnel of shadows and second heartbeat, wasn’t something wrong with him. It was from his mother; it was his inheritance. Maybe it would be enough to keep him alive long enough to figure out this whole space hero thing.
Afterword
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Also by David Alastair Hayden
The Arthur Paladin Chronicles
The Shadowed Manse
The Warlock’s Gambit
Storm Phase
The Storm Dragon’s Heart
The Maker’s Brush
Lair of the Deadly Twelve
The Forbidden Library
The Blood King’s Apprentice
The Warlock's Gambit Page 16