The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams (9 page)

The familiars’ mountain goat illusion blended in with the throng now crossing the bridge. Aldwyn, with Skylar and Gilbert on his back, had gotten about halfway to the west side of the bridge when he heard his blue jay companion groan uncomfortably.

“I can’t maintain them any longer,” she said.

“Just a little farther,” Aldwyn encouraged.

“I’m sorry,” Skylar replied.

Her wing slumped to her side, and suddenly they were exposed as the cat, frog, and bird that they were. Although the humans and animals crossing alongside them looked no different, the illusions Skylar had cast over them were gone as well.

“We need to get out of here,” Aldwyn said. “Fast.”

Aldwyn and Gilbert burst into a sprint, while Skylar flew above, but the quickened pace only brought more attention.

One of the guards standing at the eastern checkpoint spotted them.

“There they are,” he shouted. “The fugitives!”

The other passersby on the bridge had no idea what was going on, but the four guards immediately pulled their weapons. From each side they began to close in. Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert were trapped at the center.

“So you’re absolutely sure you don’t have any more of that Icari weed?” Aldwyn asked Skylar.

The guards were fast approaching, brandishing their swords.

Aldwyn thought for a moment about standing his ground and putting up a fight, but the truth was, he was outnumbered. He glanced over the side of the bridge to the swift-moving channel below, looking for the river dragons. They made a habit of trolling these waters, giving locals and visitors alike a good reason not to swim across.

Then Aldwyn spied a fishing boat coming out from underneath the bridge, dragging its nets at the rear. It would be a long drop to the deck below, but if they were going to make the jump they would have to do it quick.

“Surrender now,” one of the guards ordered. “We have been authorized to use force if needed.”

“Skylar, get down to that boat,” Aldwyn said. “Gilbert, follow me.”

The tree frog followed his gaze to the passing vessel.

“Having wings makes it so easy,” Gilbert croaked to Skylar.

The soldiers and their blades were nearly upon the familiars. But before they could strike, Aldwyn and Gilbert made a running leap over the side of the bridge. Aldwyn felt himself falling through the air, paws flailing, and it quickly became apparent that he had mistimed his jump. He and Gilbert weren’t going to be landing on the boat. Instead they crashed into the water behind it.

The impact felt like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from Aldwyn’s lungs. He tried to suck in some air but instead swallowed a mouthful of river water. Then the tug of the current dragged Aldwyn under. He’d lost track of Gilbert, but all that was important was getting back to the surface. Only, he was sinking deeper.

Finally his paws hit something: rope. He’d caught hold of one of the boat’s nets. With all his strength he pulled himself up rung by rung until he was above water once more. Gilbert already had his webbed hands wrapped around the tethered knot above him and Skylar was perched on the boat’s railing, looking down at them in relief.

But they weren’t home free yet. Arrows were raining down from the bridge, striking the water and the back of the fishing boat with their sharp tips. Aldwyn and Gilbert dodged the attack as they frantically climbed aboard the deck. A pointed bolt came flying at Gilbert, nearly impaling his neck but instead just clipping the now soaked cloth map slung over his shoulder.

Aldwyn glanced up at the four soldiers atop the bridge. One took a silver arrow from his quiver and placed it in his bow. But rather than firing it at the escaping familiars, he turned and shot it off into the northeast sky. It flew impossibly high into the clouds and disappeared.

“A messenger arrow,” Skylar said. “The Nightfall Battalion will soon know which way we’re headed.”

“We’ve survived the Kailasa mountains once before,” Aldwyn said. “I’m not sure those warriors can say the same thing.”

Suddenly Aldwyn’s nostrils began to tingle. He spun around and discovered a giant pile of river flounder. For the first time in two days, he smiled.

A
ldwyn tore the last bits of tender meat from a tailbone before tossing the flounder into a growing heap of fish bones. Gilbert had eaten his fill, too, and the three familiars were taking full advantage of their midday respite, knowing they had a perilous climb ahead of them. There was only a small crew of fishermen aboard, but none of them had noticed the animals sitting in the back of the boat.

Gilbert hopped over to a pool of water that had collected by the storage chests. “Guys, over here,” he said.

Aldwyn walked over to the tree frog’s side and saw that Gilbert was having a puddle viewing. Skylar flew above them for a look as well. There on the shimmering surface of the pool they could see Commander Warden addressing the head instructors inside one of the conference rooms at Turnbuckle Academy, identifiable from the giant symbol on the wall.

“No messenger arrows go in or out until those three animals are found,” the commander said. “Jack, Marianne, and Dalton can know nothing of what’s transpired. That way, if their familiars try to contact them, they won’t know to warn them. It must remain business as usual.”

“Surely the news will get out eventually,” a woman with icy gray hair said.

“Not if I can help it, Instructor Snieg,” Warden replied. “There will be queens’ guardsmen keeping twenty-four-hour watch on the three young wizards. If that cat, bird, or frog comes within a mile of them, we’ll know it.”

The puddle clouded over, and Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert turned to one another.

“I can’t believe they don’t know about the queen,” Gilbert said. “Or us.”

“It’s better that way,” Skylar replied. “The less they know, the less likely they’ll put themselves in danger.”

The boat was heading for an inlet where fish were practically leaping out of the water. Ahead, Aldwyn could see a path leading up the mountain.

“That should take us right to the Bridge of Betrayal,” he said, remembering the route they had taken on their previous trip to the Alchemist.

“I fear the bridge we just crossed won’t be the only one with guards on the lookout for us,” Skylar replied. “Which means we’ll need to avoid the Bridge of Betrayal and find another way around the Abyssmal Canyon.”

“We were going to cross the Bridge of Betrayal?” Gilbert croaked. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“No matter,” Skylar said. “We won’t be now.”

“Gilbert, see if you can locavate a safe, alternate route to the Mountain Alchemist,” Skylar said.

“I can try,” Gilbert said.

Gilbert pulled the dripping map from his back. He unfolded it and carefully laid it flat on the deck floor in front of them. Gilbert then removed the orienteering stone from the pouch that dangled from the map’s tie string. He set the stone down on the map and moved it to their approximate location.

“
Locavi instantanus.
Show us a safe, alternate route to the Mountain Alchemist.” Gilbert lifted his webbed hands from the stone. Suddenly it began to quiver before darting west toward the Kailasa mountains. But the stone never got there. Instead, it made a 180-degree turn, zipping to the north. Then it started zigzagging all over the map, going every which direction. Finally it stopped back where it started.

Gilbert shook his head, disappointed.

“I guess I better stick to puddle viewing,” he said. “At least I’m good at that.”

Skylar used her wing to push Gilbert aside and stuck her beak close to the map, searching.

“There looks to be some kind of land bridge that crosses the Abyssmal Canyon,” she said, gesturing to the map. “Beyond that point, it should be a straight climb to the Alchemist’s cabin. Hopefully we can get there before nightfall.”

“If there was another way up the mountain, why would anyone take the Bridge of Betrayal?” Aldwyn asked.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Skylar replied.

One of the crew members threw an anchor in the water and the boat drifted to a stop about twenty feet from the shore. Aldwyn and Gilbert jumped into the shallow inlet waters and paddled to dry land, navigating around schools of leaping trout. Aldwyn was surprised to find the water much warmer here than it was in the main part of the river. Perhaps it was from the sun shining brightly down on it. Skylar was already flapping her wings above the quiet beach.

“We can follow this stream uphill,” the blue jay said.

Aldwyn looked and saw a trickling creek that led away from the inlet and up into the woods.

The Three began their walk. With no spyballs, humans, or animals in sight, they decided it was safe to travel without hiding behind one of Skylar’s illusions. They were able to move faster this way, without Aldwyn being slowed by Gilbert and Skylar riding him like a pony while he pretended to be a goat.

The path along the creek was unexpectedly lush, and the plant life was more reminiscent of a jungle than a hardwood forest. The higher they went, the more they were surrounded by palm trees and ferns.

“How odd,” Skylar remarked. “Must be a fluke in the weather binding spells. It appears some kind of tropical front has permanently settled here.”

Aldwyn felt it, too. His paws were beginning to sweat.

“It’s rare that I get a chance to contradict you,” Gilbert said. “But I think it’s the water.” The tree frog was standing knee deep at the edge of the stream. “I stopped to cool my feet, but this creek is warmer than the palace seaweed springs.”

The quirks of Vastia’s ecology were more interesting to Skylar than to Aldwyn, but now wasn’t the time for the blue jay to stop for scientific study. So on they continued, each lost in thought. The climb became steeper, and the vegetation around the creek grew sparser. Aldwyn felt a gust of hot steam blow through his fur. He looked into the distance to find its source: a boiling waterfall.

“Kettle Falls,” Skylar said. “I saw it on the map. Now we know how it got its name.”

The waters bubbled furiously, like a pot of soup over a fire pit. A stone path snaked up the falls’ neighboring hillside. Aldwyn could smell something odd ahead that reminded him of the fish and fowl shops in Bridgetower. His nostrils guided his attention to the nearby plunge pool, where boiled birds floated on the surface.

“Skylar,” Aldwyn said, “whatever you do, don’t look over there.”

Naturally the first thing she did was look, and she flapped away in distress.

As the Three climbed the path, an occasional breeze would send droplets from the falls their way. Aldwyn’s fur protected his skin from the hot splashes, but those that landed on his nose and ears caused him to twitch in pain.

Once they reached the top, they discovered a hillside covered in gaping holes.

“Something tells me those holes weren’t made by prairie dogs,” Aldwyn said.

Rivulets streamed out from each one, pooling in the falls.

“Does anyone else feel that?” Gilbert asked, his voice vibrating.

Aldwyn nodded, his paws trembling as the ground shook beneath them.

“Get back!” Skylar shouted.

Suddenly a superheated blast of water shot a hundred feet into the air from one of the holes. The geyser’s spray came down like a deadly rain. Seconds later, it fell back through the aquavent, but not before frying everything around it, including an unlucky lizard who was scurrying past.

“Bridge of Betrayal, anyone?” Gilbert asked.

Aldwyn peered up the hill as more geysers exploded. They were about a hundred yards away from the edge of the Abyssmal Canyon and the thousand-foot drop between its walls. If the map was correct, there would be a land bridge that crossed it.

“A geological phenomenon like this should have some kind of pattern,” Skylar said. “If we take a little time to study it, we’ll have a fair shot at getting across.”

“So, like I was saying, who’s with me for the Bridge of Betrayal?” Gilbert asked again.

“Think about Queen Loranella, Gilbert,” Aldwyn said. “She’s trapped in the Wander right now, and in few days she’ll be gone for good.”

Gilbert slumped his shoulders. Skylar was already studying the maze of seemingly unpredictable bursts. She used her talon to scrawl notes in the mud beside them. Aldwyn didn’t know where to start; to him, the geysers appeared as random as falling leaves.

While Skylar continued to look ahead, Aldwyn took a moment to look back, at all of Vastia down below. In the distance, beyond the mists of Kettle Falls and across the Ebs, he could see Bronzhaven and the New Palace standing majestically at the center of the city. To anyone glimpsing the magnificent tower from afar, it would be impossible to tell that the queen lay inside dying, and that only the strongest magical spells were keeping her from being pulled into the Tomorrowlife.

Aldwyn spied something else through the steam: figures approaching on horseback. He held his breath, waiting for the wind to blow a clear view of who it was behind them. Flashes of black armor. Slivers of the moon and stars. The Nightfall Battalion had found them.

“Skylar, we need to go now,” Aldwyn said.

“I’m not ready,” the blue jay replied. “I’ve only calculated about half of the geysers’ eruption patterns.”

Aldwyn directed Skylar’s beak down the hill, allowing her to see Navid, Marati, and the band of Vastian soldiers charging toward them.

“How did they find us?” Gilbert asked.

“They have every magical advantage the queendom has to offer,” Aldwyn replied. “Olfax tracking snouts, swift-step spells.”

Skylar was using every spare second to determine the frequency of the remaining geysers. But the Battalion was getting close enough for Aldwyn to hear the sound of horseshoes pounding against stone.

“Now, Skylar,” Aldwyn said more urgently.

“Follow me,” the blue jay replied.

Skylar took wing, flying diagonally across the hillside. She stopped short of one of the holes and held up a wing to warn Aldwyn and Gilbert. As if on cue, a geyser exploded from the opening. Once the water smashed down in front of them, Skylar continued her purposeful crossing.