Free The Shadowed Manse by David Alastair Hayden, Pepper Thorn

remembered, vaguely, there being a wolf and a cat in the manse before, but these two weren’t as big as those, which were so large you could ride them. Or was it that he was so small then that they seemed big enough to ride?
    “We are your help indeed,” said Vassalus. He eyed Lexi who was bobbing her head up and down, sniffing. “What are you doing, madam?”
    “Trying to track down some food — I’m hungry!”
    “But you can’t eat scones,” Morgan said.
    “Not scones, dearie — I want tuna!”
    “We do not need to eat, Alexis. We are numina, remember? In fact, I am rather certain we are not capable of eating or …” a slight tinge of regret entered Vassalus’s voice “… or drinking tea.”
    “Oh … well, that stinks,” she groaned.
    “Maybe there are some little numina mice running around somewhere …” Arthur suggested.
    “See,” said Lexi, flicking her tail happily. “We do match. I like the way you think!”
    Arthur closed his eyes and wished he could roll back time and ask Ylliara for a different guardian. The big cat part was fine — lynxes were awesome, one of his favorite animals — but it was her personality he wanted to change.
    “So,” Morgan said, “do either of you know what’s going on?”
    “Sadly,” Vassalus said, “we only know a little more than you. Lady Ylliara intended to encode additional information into us, but she ran out of time. We may have a few choice bits of data bouncing around in our heads, but not much. Sorry.”
    A sudden burst of fog appeared behind the animals, and out from it stepped a ghostly man. He wore a belted tunic, knee-high boots, and gloves that came almost to his elbows. His arms, legs, and neck were wrapped with what looked like bandages. His face was completely covered with a single cloth that showed the shape of a face but no distinct features. On his head sat a bowler hat. A sword in a scabbard hung from his belt. Arthur had dreamed of beings like this before … probably because he had actually seen this one as a child. The blank faces had certainly terrorized him throughout many nightmares.
    “Do not be alarmed,” said Vassalus. “Lady Ylliara told us Valet would arrive soon. It takes a few minutes for the servitors to be restored, after a room has been cleared from essence of Shadow.”
    “The servitors?” Arthur said.
    “The Aetherial servants of the house,” Lexi said. “Technically, they’re numina just like us, but there are differences. The primary difference is that they are formed out of need and not from anyone’s subconscious — or maybe they’re from Lady Ylliara’s subconscious. They can understand anything you say to them, but they can’t talk. Wow, I really do know some extra things.”
    “Because Lady Ylliara told you,” Vassalus said in exasperation.
    “Oh, guess I just absorbed it — I wasn’t really paying attention.”
    “Valet,” said Vassalus, “is named for his position. All the servitors are.”
    “When you say valet,” Arthur said, “do you mean valet?” He pronounced it val-ay instead of val-it like Vassalus kept doing. “Like someone who parks a car?”
    “You moron,” Morgan said. “He’s a personal attendant, and you can pronounce it either way.”
    “Oh.”
    “Valet will see to your personal needs, Master Paladin,” Vassalus explained. “He will help you dress and arm yourself. He will fetch anything you need.”
    “But he can’t talk?” Arthur said.
    “None of the servitors can,” Vassalus answered. “Though they can respond silently.”
    “How many others are there?” Arthur said.
    “Five,” Vassalus replied. “Valet, Cook, Maid, Priest, Librarian, and Arms.”
    “Are the servitors robots?” Morgan asked.
    “Not exactly, my dear,” Vassalus answered. “They are Aetherial constructs.”
    “And that means …” Arthur prompted.
    “That they are, like us, made of solidified light,” said Lexi. “Just as the shades you just fought are constructs of