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

devoid of all the confidence he’d had before. “She cannot accomplish anything this way. In a few hours, she will have no memories at all, and the Manse will steadily decay.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, given the plot she was involved in, I think it would be best if I remained here to see that it is finished.”
    “The boy is dead, though,” said the cold voice of the stone. Arthur recognized it as one of the Hosts. “We know you speak true, for we have searched far and wide ourselves. What could she possibly do?”
    “I do not know, but I don’t think we should risk it. They may have a backup plan of some kind. And though her memories are gone, that doesn’t mean she can’t act on her instincts.”
    The Hosts were silent for a while, then one of them said, “We agree that you should remain. But know that it will take years, perhaps ten or more, before she fades enough for the Manse to disintegrate.”
    Kjor nodded; his shoulders were slumped. “It is a sacrifice I must make. In the trance of suspension , I will be able to wait it out without need of sustenance. I shall ponder the deepest mysteries of the universe — there are worse things to do with one’s time.”
    “Contact us when it is nearly over, and we shall open a portal for you, Fleet Commander Kjor of Skrimanta.”
    “Thank you, Honored Hosts. Could you tell my family that I am safe, and that I will return? I especially want my wife to know that I love her dearly.”
    “We shall tell her of your love and provide her with a sizeable income. Your fame will spread far and wide, and when you return, you shall be made the Governor of Skrimanta. You will be forever honored by all of Entropia.”
    Kjor bowed. “Thank you, Honored Hosts.”
    The shard went dark. Kjor knelt on the ground, facing away from it and toward the door to the Inner Sanctum, with Lady Orella to his side but still in his line of vision. She started to say something, but then furrowed her brow in confusion.
    Kjor looked right up to where Arthur was floating in the dream. Their eyes met. Arthur took a deep breath and braced himself for some sort of mental attack like he had felt during the battle in the Grand Hallway. But after several moments, Kjor simply closed his eyes.

Chapter Eleven
    Ramifications Inconclusive
    W ith 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