The Arthur Paladin Chronicles

Chapter Five: A Dark Gem Glitters

For a few moments, Arthur felt like he was riding an out-of-control tilt-a-whirl at the county fair — but the sensation stopped abruptly, and he stumbled into Morgan.

She shoved him away. "Get off me!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"That's twice you've run into me now. Do it again and —"

"And you'll what?" Arthur snapped. He held up his arm. "Burn me? Cut me? You don't scare me, Morgan. You're the least of my problems."

Morgan folded her arms and huffed.

Arthur groaned, and then muttered, "I'm sorry I stumbled into you."

She made no reply.

"Morgan, this is when you're supposed to tell me you're sorry for shoving me."

"But I'm not," she countered.

"I only stumbled into you because I was dizzy. It was like everything was spinning and bouncing. Did you —"

"I felt it ... and then I saw all these colors swirling around me ... and then — and then you ran into me — again."

"Yeah, and just before all that started, it was like I had a second heart pounding in my chest."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't feel that."

Arthur held out his arms as if trying to balance himself and closed his eyes. He pursed his lips, took a few deep breaths, and said, "I can't tell if we're still moving."

Morgan rolled her gray-blue eyes. "We can't actually be moving. Houses don't move, genius."

"They aren't normally bigger on the inside either, are they? Have you noticed the shades aren't pounding on the door anymore?"

"Maybe they gave up."

"Maybe we've traveled away from Earth," he argued. "We'd have to open the door to find out."

"Can't do that," she said. "The door stays closed until we figure out all this."

"Maybe we teleported," Arthur suggested. "You know, like in —"

Morgan slapped her hands against her ears. "Argh!"

Arthur thought she was about to throw a tantrum, like a four-year-old. But she composed herself, took deep breaths, and chanted something so softly he couldn't understand the words. Whatever worked for —

Arthur doubled over as pain spiked through his shade-burned arm. He fought to control the sensation, trying to think of the rest of his body, instead of the burned place on his arm. But that didn't do much good. The cuts from the glass door were starting to hurt more now; he was oozing blood on his arms, face, and back; and he still had a shard of plastic poking out from his chest. He was actually surprised that injury didn't hurt more.

"You okay?" Morgan asked.

"I will be ... I think. That shade burned me bad, and I was already messed up."

"What happened to you before the shades found you? Because you didn't get cut up from them — they would've burned you." Her eyes narrowed; she pointed at his chest. "And what's that poking out through your shirt?"

"Oh, that. It's a device that fits over my heart. It got broken, and this plastic shard poked out. It doesn't hurt as much as you'd think, but it is getting worse. I'm starting to hurt all over."

"You're running out of adrenaline." She stepped forward and peered at the piece of plastic. "That's gross."

"Thanks."