The Warlock's Gambit by David Alastair Hayden, Pepper Thorn Page A

But go ahead and try.”
    Orella closed her eyes and creased her brow. After several moments, she muttered words to herself, and her column of light burned brighter. Nothing happened, and she gave up with a sigh.
    “Can’t find him, can you? Honestly, I did him a favor. That boy was doomed from the day he was born.”
    “You swore you would protect him. I thought you were a man of honor.”
    “I am, but my honor was pledged elsewhere, long before I ever met a Paladin.”
    “You have doomed the universe.”
    “I doubt that,” said Kjor with a smirk. “I ended your diabolical scheme while furthering my own cause. Oddly enough, I aided both Aetheria and Entropy at the same time. You see, I figured out what was going on. I know who was killing the Paladins. And I know the boy was going to be your special weapon. You and your … faction … had designs on him. He’s different than the other Paladins, because his mother is special. It took me a long time to figure that out. Quintus didn’t know. Even Amelia didn’t know. But you … you knew what the boy was. He could change everything. He could’ve advanced your faction’s cause by a thousand years or more. Now he won’t change anything other than the feeding patterns of the maggots in the dirt where I buried him.”
    Orella’s eyes narrowed again, and she gritted her teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “No, of course you don't,” Kjor said, shaking his head. “Lies, Orella. Tricks and lies.” He pulled out the Stone of Unbecoming and threw it at her. “But they won't be lies for long. Soon you truly won't know.”
    Orella never had a chance to move, and though Arthur had expected the column of light to protect her somehow, apparently it couldn't.
    The stone struck her in the chest, causing her to double over and cry out, and then it dropped to the ground, landing in the center of the triskelion. The energy flows all ceased for a moment, then flared so brightly Arthur was almost blinded before returning to normal.
    “My memories … what have you done?” Orella muttered.
    “I am erasing you. Then I will return to Skrimanta, while you and the Manse slowly fade away.”
    “Memories or not, I am eternal.”
    “Not in a Manse populated by wraiths and infused with shadow. Your power is slowly being leeched away.”
    She screamed. “My databanks! Two thousand years of Paladin history!”
    Kjor nodded. “Like I said, you are being erased — your memories as Orella, Herald of Aetheria, and your memories as the Manse.”
    Orella closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Then I shall power down to only my essential systems and give one final order, hardwired into the fabric of the Manse itself. As long as the Manse and I endure, however many years it takes, we will continue on this final mission — a mission you cannot undo, no matter how many dark powers you invoke.”
    “What are you doing?” Kjor asked, with worry in his voice.
    “I am sending the Manse to find Arthur Primus, wherever you have imprisoned him, despite whatever dark magic is hiding him from me, so that he may be rescued and take his father’s place.”
    “No! You fool!” Kjor raised his bloodstained hands. “I told you the boy is dead!”
    Orella looked confused. “But … but that cannot be …”
    His face contorted in frustration, and he seemed to be almost on the verge of tears. “You forgot sooner than I would’ve thought. I should’ve realized the newest memories would be the most fragile.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Even if the boy lived, who would rescue him, Orella?”
    “Rescue who? The new Paladin?” She frowned. “The Manse will continue on in the hope that a new Paladin will arise somewhere … somehow. I have even sealed off all the infested rooms with Shadow Wards to help the new Paladin when he comes.”
    With a groan, Kjor turned to the floating shard. The eye with the slit pupil inside watched him. His voice was strained now,