The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams (12 page)

“Yes,” Skylar replied. “We’ve come to seek your help.”

He was clearly having trouble hearing, as he spoke right over her.

“The children, are they safe? Did Queen Loranella hurt them?”

“They’re okay,” Aldwyn shouted back, loud enough to be heard over the spell vacuum. “And it wasn’t the queen who captured them. It was Paksahara, posing as the queen.”

“The trickery of a shapeshifter. I should have known.”

Another strong pull from behind made Kalstaff stumble, but he stayed steady on his feet. The Alchemist was using his cane to push himself forward, coming up alongside Kalstaff.

“I’ve been murdered, haven’t I?” he asked warily.

“That’s right,” Gilbert responded. “Just a few days ago.”

“We have a question for you both,” Skylar said. “An attempt was made on Loranella’s life. She’s been given a parasitic poison. Ravens and healers have been able to keep her in the Wander, but nothing’s been able to heal her. We understand that the original Prophesized Three were told of a way to reverse such a curse.”

“I know just the potion by heart,” the Alchemist said. “Forty-three components are needed. First I will recite the essential liquids. Echo drool, water from the Wildecape Sea, dew drops—”

The force of the spell vacuum was getting louder. Now the familiars were struggling to hear. The Alchemist dug his cane into the ground, or at least tried to. But his desperate attempt to brace himself was futile. He was being tugged back.

“You’ll never be able to say them all,” Aldwyn said. “Were they ever recorded somewhere?”

“In one of my spell journals,” Kalstaff replied. “I transcribed them myself. There’s a secret room in the cellar at Stone Runlet.”

“We know, we’ve been there,” Skylar said. “How can we find the journal? There were hundreds of them.”

“The inside page is labeled ‘The Spells of Somnibus Everwake,’” Kalstaff said.

The power of the spell vacuum was becoming even stronger, and Aldwyn could see the two old wizards struggling mightily to stand firm. The Alchemist lost his footing for just a brief moment, but that’s all it took for him to be sucked back into the Tomorrowlife once more.

Kalstaff continued to stand fast, refusing to give in to the force that had taken his ally.

“There’s so much I want to know,” Kalstaff said. “Please. Before I, too, am taken.”

“The circle of heroes was reunited,” Aldwyn said. “Human and animal now rule together.”

“And the Prophesized Three?” Kalstaff asked.

Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert didn’t need to respond. All Kalstaff had to do was look at their faces and instantly he knew.

“Then Vastia is in good hands,” the old wizard said.

“You were part of the Noctonati,” Skylar said. “Do you know of any of its members who would want to betray the queendom?”

Kalstaff’s resolve was weakening and the spell vacuum was overtaking him.

“There will always be enemies afoot in this land. Be the good that prevails.”

And with that, Kalstaff was gone.

Skylar slumped down to the ground. Two of the blue jay’s feathers, brittle from her tampering with the dead, fell to the dirt.

“Skylar, are you okay?” Aldwyn asked.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“So I guess it’s back to Stone Runlet,” Gilbert said.

Skylar shook her head.

“No. Once I told the queen what we discovered in Kalstaff’s cellar, she wanted all of his possessions studied and archived. Commander Warden volunteered to house them in the library at Turnbuckle Academy.”

All three familiars shared a moment of realization.

“You saw my puddle viewing,” Gilbert said. “The queens’ guardsmen have the grounds under twenty-four-hour surveillance. We may as well turn ourselves in.”

“Warden said those guards would be keeping watch over our loyals,” Aldwyn replied. “So we’ll just have to avoid them.”

“Sounds like a technicality to me,” Gilbert said.

“It’s the only way,” Skylar said. “We’ll just have to be extra careful.”

“That moth sure would have come in handy for the trip,” Gilbert said. “Without it, we’ll be lucky to arrive there by midday.”

“We better start moving,” Skylar said. “We don’t have any time to spare.”

The Academy was located at the foot of the Yennep Mountains, to the north of the Chordata Plains, not far from Bronzhaven. Aldwyn didn’t care that their journey was leading them in a circle; only that a remedy for the queen was finally in reach.

The pungent odor of stinkweed permeated the dead forest. Centipedes and millipedes scurried over the mold- and fungus-covered ground. There were few places in Vastia that gave Aldwyn the creeps, but this was one of them.

“Did I ever tell you how the Weed Barrens came to be?” Skylar asked.

“No, but I have a feeling you’re going to now,” Gilbert said.

“This was once the most fertile land in the queendom. As green as the sky is blue. It was home to the elves, when elves were brave, before they became the scourge of the rivers. They cared for the plants, and got fruit and pure air to breathe in return. So abundant were the forest’s offerings that others came to claim this wooded paradise as their own. But the elvin warriors would not be displaced. Until the Brotherhood of Hexes, a cult of curse-wielding warlocks who could twist the supernatural to their whim, overpowered them with deadly magic. Many of the elves were turned into centipedes and millipedes. The ones that escaped would go on to become the elvin pirates we know today. Unfortunately for the warlocks, once the elves were gone, the forest became this: the Weed Barrens.”

Skylar perched herself on a nearby branch, one so dry that it almost snapped when she landed on it.

“Just give me a moment,” she wheezed.

“I’d need to stop for a break, too, if I talked that much without taking a breath,” Gilbert said.

Then without any further warning, Skylar collapsed onto the ground.

“Skylar!” Aldwyn called out in concern.

He ran up to his companion’s side. Her eyes were rolling back in her head and her feathers appeared dimmer and without their usual sheen.

“I knew that spell wasn’t safe,” Aldwyn said.

“Well, it’s too late now,” Skylar replied. “The damaging effects of necromancy can be diminished by a simple potion. We just need to grind up some daffodil root.”

“We’ll gather some as soon as we’re out of the Weed Barrens,” Gilbert said.

“But that’s not all,” Skylar continued. “It needs to be added to fresh milk.”

“Fresh milk?” Gilbert asked. “Where are we supposed to find that?”

Skylar was too weak to stand on her own, so all she could do was lie there.

“I remember having a nice warm bowl of milk not too far from here,” Aldwyn said. “Courtesy of our old friend Tammy. Gilbert, help Skylar onto my back.”

The tree frog lifted Skylar and set her down on Aldwyn’s fur.

“Hang on,” Aldwyn said. “I’ll do my best to make it a smooth trip.”

Aldwyn and Gilbert pushed through the brambles. They steered clear of the roach-filled ravines and rotting carcasses of larger bugs that littered the ground. Bone vultures sat atop the high branches, stalking the barrens below for their next meal.

“The place really brings back warm and fuzzy memories,” Gilbert said.

“Just keep moving,” Aldwyn replied.

Skylar had gone so quiet, Aldwyn had to look over his shoulder to make sure she was still breathing. The blue jay seemed to have entered a feverish state.

“Jemma, Jemma,” she repeated. “Don’t go.”

“Her sister,” Gilbert said to Aldwyn.

Aldwyn wasn’t the only one with a sister he was longing to be reunited with. Skylar had a deep love for her sister, too. But Jemma had passed on to the Tomorrowlife.

“Jemma, I’ll bring you back,” Skylar said. “Jemma. . .”

Her calls turned to murmurs as she became wearier.

Aldwyn and Gilbert exited the Weed Barrens and found themselves in the long, windswept plains that sloped down to the tip of the peninsula where the outpost town was located.

“I hate to be a worrywart, although being a frog, warts kind of come with the skin,” Gilbert said. “But you ever think maybe Tammy and the innkeeper didn’t survive Paksahara’s Dead Army?”

“I hadn’t,” Aldwyn admitted.

Gilbert stopped briefly before a patch of still-sprouting daffodils. He dug them up with his hands and held them tight.

“Well, even if they did become zombie feed, there was a barn with cows and goats inside,” Gilbert said. “Of course, there’s no guarantee they would have survived, either.”

Skylar was slipping further into delirium, now muttering words that didn’t make any sense. She was burning up, too. Aldwyn could feel it through his fur.

He turned to Gilbert and said something the tree frog rarely heard.

“Gilbert, recite some of your poetry.”

“What?” Gilbert asked.

“Your poetry. I think it might calm Skylar.”

“She hates my poetry,” Gilbert said.

“She only says that. Deep down, I know she’d find it comforting.”

“Okay. Um. Let’s see. Here’s one I wrote about her.” He cleared his throat. “Blue feather, wing, beak, each and every part unique, my best friend always.”

Skylar groaned miserably.

“I’m sure that’s just the fever,” Aldwyn said.

The two continued on, past the dawn crickets crawling out from under the clover to play their morning song. The Three were getting closer now, and Aldwyn could see that the small outpost town still stood, looking no different from when they had visited here last.

Since Skylar would be unable to cast an illusion around the trio, the fugitive familiars would have to rely on sneakiness alone to get to the inn. Luckily that was Aldwyn’s specialty long before he became one of the Prophesized Three.

Careful not to throw Skylar off his back, Aldwyn scooped up a pawful of the chirping crickets and put them in Skylar’s satchel. He and Gilbert proceeded down a dirt road, stopping before crossing below a street lantern still lit from the night before. Across the way a cobbler was opening up his shop. Aldwyn telekinetically sent one of the crickets soaring past him, and as the man’s attention was drawn away to the distraction, they raced ahead. Aldwyn pulled the same trick on a tanner and a group of tradesmen, allowing the familiars to safely reach the front of the small inn where Tammy lived.

Aldwyn poked his nose through the leather flap covering the pet-sized entrance cut into the front door. Tammy was curled up in front of a fire.

“Tammy,” he whispered, hoping not to alert the innkeeper sitting behind the counter. “Tammy!”

She woke up and turned her head to look at him with her hazel eyes. Immediately they twinkled with recognition.

“Aldwyn?” she asked. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” he replied.

She ran over to the flap and joined Aldwyn and Gilbert outside.

“I can’t believe it,” Tammy said. “I never thought I’d see you again.” She glanced up to see Skylar shivering uncontrollably. “What’s wrong with her?”

“We need some milk,” Aldwyn said. “Quickly.”

“Follow me,” Tammy replied.

She led them around back to the barn, where most of the farm animals were still sleeping. A few chickens were already up pecking, but they seemed disinterested in the new guests. Aldwyn used his mind to drag a metal bucket beneath a nearby goat’s udder, then telekinetically milked it. Once he’d gotten a cup’s worth, Gilbert crushed the daffodil root in his hand before dropping it into the white liquid. Aldwyn lowered Skylar to the ground and used his paw to open her beak. Then with Gilbert’s and Tammy’s help, he tipped the bucket, allowing the milk potion to flow down Skylar’s throat.

She coughed a bit, almost choking, before opening her eyes.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“We got you what you needed,” Aldwyn said. “Shh. Close your eyes. Rest.”

“So, Aldwyn the alley cat turned out to be Vastia’s savior,” Tammy said. “And to think, I knew you when.”

“I thought about coming back to make sure you were safe,” Aldwyn replied. “But everything was happening so fast. I never got the chance.”

“I’ve always done okay taking care of myself. You shouldn’t feel guilty. Besides, I’m glad you’re here now.”

She smiled, her tail curving toward Aldwyn.

“I’m going to leave the two of you alone,” Gilbert said. “I’ll just be over there by the pigs.”

He hopped across the barn, giving Aldwyn and Tammy some privacy.

“Seems that it’s safe to assume you haven’t heard,” Aldwyn said.

“Haven’t heard what?”

“That we’re wanted for the attempted murder of Queen Loranella. She’s been poisoned.”

Tammy gave Aldwyn a look.

“You sure do make a habit of getting yourself into trouble, don’t you?”

“Not intentionally,” Aldwyn replied. “But yes. I do.”

“Any idea who might actually have done it?” Tammy asked.

“We haven’t had much time to look into that,” Aldwyn said. “We’ve been too busy searching for a way to save the queen. The palace healers said she would only last two to three days in the Wander. And it’s already been a day and a half.”

“Well, lay it out for me,” Tammy said. “I’m pretty good at solving puzzles.”

“It’s quite simple, really. We gave the queen a necklace as a gift, and it poisoned her. The components for the hex were found spread out among our rooms. Things became a little more complicated when we discovered that the Mountain Alchemist was dead, too. Who would want to kill the last two remaining members of the original Prophesized Three?”

“Maybe you’re asking the wrong question,” Tammy said. “Maybe what you should be asking is,
what
did Queen Loranella and the Mountain Alchemist have that someone else would want?”

It was a subtle shift in looking at the problem, but it immediately made Aldwyn think. What could they have had?

“Did anything go missing?” Tammy asked.

“Just a book from the Alchemist’s cabin.”

“And the queen?”

“Nothing. At least not that I know of.”

“Then perhaps that’s where the answer lies,” Tammy said. “Told you I was good at this.”

This time it was Aldwyn’s turn to smile.

“See, I have talents,” Tammy continued. “They might not be magical, but they could come in handy on an adventure.”