The Warlock's Gambit (The Arthur Paladin Chronicles) (Volume 2) by David Alastair Hayden & Pepper Thorn

The Warlock's Gambit (The Arthur Paladin Chronicles) (Volume 2) by David Alastair Hayden & Pepper Thorn

Author:David Alastair Hayden & Pepper Thorn [Hayden, David Alastair & Thorn, Pepper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503034297
Amazon: 1503034291
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-09-29T07:00:00+00:00


11

Ramifications Inconclusive

With a shock, Arthur woke to the sound of a deep gong vibrating throughout the Manse. He sat up, alarmed, but found his room brightly lit with a cheerful melody playing lightly alongside the sounds of chirping birds. Arthur’s heart was pounding; his mind was groggy. He felt trapped between two worlds: one of nightmares and shadows, and the other of cheery, sun-filled bedroom. He shook his head and took several deep breaths, trying to break free from the weight of the dream.

He rubbed his eyes and looked around. Valet stood at the foot of his bed. He bowed and motioned toward the bathroom. A towel was draped over his arm. Vassalus and Morgan were gone.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

Lexi arched her back up into a stretch. “Morgan woke about an hour ago and went down to the Paladin’s Office. Vassalus accompanied her, just in case something went wrong.” She narrowed her eyes at him, cocked her ears, and flexed her nostrils while bobbing her head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Arthur lied.

“Oh, it’s something, dear. Your pupils are dilated, your heart’s beating fast, and you smell … off.”

“Thanks.”

“Well?”

“Another dream … I’m not ready to talk about it, okay?”

Lexi curled up, tucking her head between her paws. “As you wish, but don’t bottle it in.”

“I won’t.”

Arthur decided the best thing to do, for the moment, was to write the dream down. Normal dreams have a habit of fading, and he didn’t want to risk that with this one. Every detail could be important. “Valet, I need paper and a pen, please.”

Valet went down to the level below and returned, carrying a leather-bound notebook and what Arthur thought was a fountain pen.

Arthur scribbled down every detail he could remember, including those that didn’t seem important to him right then. He read back over it, was satisfied that he had captured everything, then put it aside. He was going to do his best not to think about the dream for a while. It was a lot to process — far too much to think through this early in the morning.

Arthur washed up and dressed in his uniform. He decided not to put on the armor yet, since they weren’t going into battle. He was tired of carrying the helmet around, anyway — he was always taking it off and having to remember to pick it back up.

After an enormous, four-course breakfast (Cook certainly must be all well now), they went to check on Waiter. He had healed a lot. He was sitting up now, staring silently at the jukebox. After saying hello, Arthur didn’t know what else to say. The servitors didn’t eat, and as far as he could tell, they didn’t sleep or have hobbies either. Did they have telepathic conversations with one another? He had no idea. Just because they could communicate that way, that didn’t mean they did it for anything more than work. They weren’t really people after all, but it was hard not to think of them that way.

Morgan



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