The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams (6 page)

Once he reached the other side of the room, Aldwyn slipped into the hallway. With Skylar maintaining the illusion, Aldwyn started toward the grand foyer.

“We won’t survive for long out there without supplies,” Skylar said. “I need my satchel.”

“Once the bolka-dur comes to, he’s going to realize we’re gone, and every last person in this palace will be hunting us down,” Aldwyn said. “You really want to take that risk?”

“I don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,” Skylar said. “And by the time he does, we’ll be long gone.”

Aldwyn turned for the palace staircase and climbed to the top, where his paws touched the soft velvet carpeting that covered every floor on the second level. The familiars’ rooms were at the far side of the hall, by the northern tower. To get there, they would have to walk directly past Queen Loranella’s chambers.

The temptation to run was great, but Aldwyn knew that a sprinting bulldog was sure to draw attention. So he kept a steady pace, fighting every instinct he had for urgency.

As they walked, an old man pushing a cart filled with vials and potions passed them. He had a solemn look on his tattooed face. Aldwyn recognized the markings as those of the driftfolk. The glass beakers and goblets churned and gurgled, as if the multicolored brews within might bubble out at any moment. Aldwyn looked ahead and realized the man had come from Loranella’s room. Outside her door, a group of ravens and healers were gathered, all talking in hushed tones as they watched the old man depart.

“That didn’t do any good,” one of the healers said.

“What did you expect?” a raven asked. “He was a driftfolk charlatan. Half those potions were probably colored with beet juice.”

“Then what was he doing here?” another raven asked.

“We’re desperate,” the healer said. “The parasitic poison is spreading faster than we can contain it.”

“Well, if we don’t figure out something, I won’t be able to keep her in the Wander for more than two, maybe three days,” the first raven replied.

“An aardvark is on the way,” a second healer interjected. “Hopes to reverse the curse using mud from the bottom of the Time Stream.”

“We really are desperate,” the second raven said.

Aldwyn slowed as he passed the queen’s chambers. The door had been left open a sliver. Beneath the canopy of the large bed he could see Loranella. It looked like she was sleeping, but Aldwyn knew this was a sleep few ever awoke from.

A pair of Sun Temple worshippers knelt on mats placed by the window. They dropped flower petals into a bronze offering bowl sitting between them. Dawn was still a few hours away, but they wanted to be ready for the day’s first rays of sun. Aldwyn only hoped that their prayers would be answered.

Anura sat on the pillow beside Loranella. The golden toad stroked the queen’s white hair tenderly. Anura’s good luck hadn’t brought Loranella back to life, but maybe it was all that was keeping her from already being dead.

Aldwyn heard Gilbert sniffle.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying not to cry. “I just hate to see her like this.”

“So do we,” Skylar assured him. “But we need to keep moving.”

Aldwyn knew she was right and continued to Skylar’s room. A soldier stood at the door, presumably to make certain that no evidence inside was tampered with. Aldwyn kept walking.

“In here,” Skylar said, giving Aldwyn’s ear a little tug to the left.

He followed her none-too-subtle instruction, darting into a parlor two doors down from her room. Skylar lowered her wings and let the illusion disappear.

“We won’t be able to get past the guard,” she said. “I’ll have to go in through the window.”

Aldwyn saw that there was a window on the opposite side of the parlor, and Skylar was already flapping toward it.

“Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, she flew out of the parlor. Aldwyn and Gilbert stayed behind, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Tomes were piled up atop a reading desk with titles on the spines reading
Remedies for Every Malady, Astraloch’s A-to-Z Guide to Antidotes
, and
Porkivit’s Potion Primer
.

“Maybe the answer to the queen’s ailment is in one of those books,” Gilbert said, hopping onto the desk.

“Gilbert, stay away from—” Aldwyn started to say, but it was too late.

The tree frog had already flipped open one of the tomes, and as soon as he did, all the candles in the room flickered on and the organ in the corner began to play quiet, melodic music.

“The parlor is enchanted with mood magic,” Aldwyn said.

It was very pleasant for quiet study, but not good for hiding out. Gilbert slammed the book shut, but that didn’t stop the music.

“Get off the reading desk,” Aldwyn called.

Gilbert quickly jumped down and the organ silenced itself. The flames burning on the candles extinguished themselves. Aldwyn and Gilbert stood still, as if their silence would erase the noise that had just filled the room. They listened anxiously, waiting to see if they had drawn anyone’s attention. Then the doorknob began to turn.

“Window,” Aldwyn said, running for the other side of the parlor.

Gilbert leaped behind him, and the two took to the ledge outside. Just as they pressed their backs to the palace wall, Aldwyn could hear someone enter the room. The heavy thud of boots pounding across the floor got closer.

Still clinging to the ledge thirty feet above the courtyard, Aldwyn watched as Skylar flew from her bedroom window with her leather satchel slung over her wing.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “I told you to wait inside.”

Then she heard the boot steps coming from the parlor. The Three froze, not daring to make the slightest sound. Aldwyn was practically holding his breath, until the noise faded and they heard the door close.

They all exhaled.

“Guys, look,” Gilbert said, pointing down below.

Aldwyn could see Navid, Marati, and the rest of the Nightfall Battalion entering through the gate. The men, women, and animals wore black armor with faint silhouettes of the stars and moon on the shoulders. It appeared the assassination attempt on Queen Loranella had taken precedence over whatever mission they had been called to. In their short existence, the Nightfall Battalion had quickly become the stuff of legend. They had hunted and apprehended dozens of Paksahara’s most loyal followers, traitors to the queendom who had gone on the run after the Dead Army’s fall. Most of the prisoners filling the dungeon below the palace had been caught in their nets. Now Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert were their targets.

Fortunately, none of them was looking up. At least not yet.

Aldwyn eyed the dozens of paper lanterns floating in the air, calculating the space between them. They led across to a wall with a staircase winding down to the courtyard.

“We should be able to make it across on those lanterns,” Aldwyn said.

“It will be just like hopping lily pads back home,” Gilbert said.

“Or rooftops,” Aldwyn added.

Skylar seemed to be on board with the plan, as she was already flying ahead. Then Gilbert was off, making the first two jumps effortlessly. Aldwyn leaped from the ledge next, his paws touching down on the paper lantern closest to him. It cracked under his feet, but before it gave way he bounded again.

Aldwyn quickened, jumping across three more lanterns. Gilbert continued to set the pace out front. But just as the tree frog landed on the next lantern, the paper split in half. Gilbert narrowly made it off in time, just before the lantern debris scattered to the ground.

Aldwyn was now staring ahead at a six-foot gap. He didn’t have time to think about it, though. He simply had to keep moving. And that’s just what he did, jumping through the air to the next lantern. His front paws nearly slipped upon making contact, but his claws took hold and he was able to pull himself to safety. Aldwyn made one more leap and joined Gilbert and Skylar on the ledge of the outer wall.

Skylar flew above the courtyard and glanced down.

“It’s clear,” she said.

Aldwyn and Gilbert sprinted down the staircase, until they reached the ground. Skylar fluttered to their side. Party decorations, half-eaten plates of food, and a table filled with unopened gifts all remained untouched, evidence of a celebration cut short. The three familiars quickly passed the golden eel pond and headed for the front gate.

“Wait up,” Gilbert said.

Hopping over to the table where he and Anura had been sitting during the queen’s birthday festivities, he grabbed his orienteering stone and cloth map.

“Thought these might come in handy,” Gilbert said, hurrying to catch back up with Aldwyn and Skylar while slinging the map’s tie string over his shoulder.

Aldwyn wasn’t so sure the map would help, seeing how Gilbert failed to find Yeardley. But he’d already taken it, so there was no point leaving it behind now.

The familiars were halfway across the courtyard when the tower bell started clanging.

“They know we’ve escaped,” Skylar said.

Aldwyn and Gilbert began to sprint, but the front gate was already swinging shut. Even at top running speed, Aldwyn knew he wasn’t going to make it. He turned to a nearby dining chair on the courtyard patio and telekinetically flung it into the path of the closing gate. The force of the steel door was too much for the metal chair to hold, and it snapped in two as the gate closed completely.

The three animals had to change direction. They turned back to see Navid and Marati emerging from the palace with a dozen soldiers of the Nightfall Battalion. The familiars were being surrounded.

“Surrender now,” Marati called out. “There’s nowhere for you to go.”

“We fought side by side,” Aldwyn said. “Practically stood together in the circle of heroes. Why would we do something like this? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s not my job to decide if you’re innocent or guilty,” Marati replied. “But I know we can’t let you run away.”

“Navid, we’re friends,” Gilbert said. “Please.”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

Aldwyn hadn’t noticed until now, but Skylar was removing something from her satchel.

“Eat this,” she whispered, handing prickly blades of grass to both Aldwyn and Gilbert. “Trust me.”

The two immediately swallowed them. The soldiers were now tightening their circle around the trio with swords drawn. Navid bared his fangs, and Aldwyn knew all too well the powerful venom blasts he was capable of shooting from them. Marati had already summoned her astral claws, sharp blue glowing blades commanded by the mongoose.

Suddenly Aldwyn felt a throbbing below his shoulders. It made him wince.

“What did you just give me?” he asked Skylar.

“Icari weed,” she replied.

Aldwyn searched his memory. He had heard that component mentioned once before, but he couldn’t remember when.

“Remind me what that does agahhhhhhh . . .” Pressure was building up and then a searing pain rocketed along Aldwyn’s spine. It was like a pair of knives had been stabbed through his back. As quickly as the shock of pain had rattled him, it was gone. Gilbert was writhing as well. Then Aldwyn realized that something was starting to poke out from the tree frog’s back. They were slimy, bat-like wings! Aldwyn glanced around to see that he, too, was growing wings of his own, but unlike Gilbert’s, they were covered in the black-and-white fur of a Maidenmere cat.

“Fly!” Skylar shouted.

Although Aldwyn had never sprouted wings before, his body seemed to know just what to do. Muscles began contracting and expanding, and the wings on his back flapped. He was up off the ground. And Gilbert was right beside him.

“Get back here!” Marati cried.

It was too late for that. The familiars were soaring skyward. Navid fired a venom blast but it fell short. Marati’s astral claw was immediately weakened by the distance it had to travel.

“After them!” Navid shouted from below.

Aldwyn turned his attention to the clouds before him. The Icari weed had taken effect so quickly he’d barely had time to process it. But this would not be the moment to reflect, as a half-dozen members of the Nightfall Battalion were flying through the air behind them with wands outstretched. The fastest two caught up to Aldwyn and Gilbert in mere seconds. They were about to ensnare them with golden lassos.

“Creeping vine, possum tail, make them move like a snail!” Gilbert incanted.

Suddenly the two wizards slowed to a near crawl. They tried to talk but even their lips appeared to move in slow motion.

“Quick thinking, Gilbert,” Skylar said.

“A snail spell,” the tree frog replied. “One of Marianne’s favorites.”

“Well, she would be proud,” Aldwyn said.

Gilbert had little time to bask in the praise, as more members of the Nightfall Battalion were gaining on them.

Aldwyn remembered some flight tactics from
Crady’s Book of Aerial Wizardry
, a text he had studied back at Black Ivy Manor. He was just hoping that some of them would be helpful here.

Aldwyn spotted the floating torches that always stood high above the castle walls. But rather than avoiding the bright-glowing flames, he began flapping toward them. Skylar and Gilbert did the same, and the three slalomed between them. The closest pursuing member of the Nightfall Battalion hit the first torch, accidentally setting his robe on fire and forcing him to retreat. The three animals continued to execute hairpin turns and mid-flight reversals that would have made Crady himself proud. Their impressive aerial acrobatics led one of the three remaining Nightfall Battalion soldiers to veer headfirst into the parapet of the palace’s high tower.