The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams (10 page)

Behind them, Navid and Marati dismounted their horses, as had the rest of their Battalion, all taking to foot. Without the strategy Skylar devised from watching the geysers’ pattern, they stormed ahead, right into a burst of boiling water. The large-eyed lemur at the front of the group was lifted high in the air by the geyser before dropping hard to the ground in burning pain.

While one of the healing ravens who traveled with the Nightfall Battalion tended to the injured lemur, Navid and Marati led the others forward, not letting one fallen comrade slow their pursuit.

Skylar, Aldwyn, and Gilbert continued toward the land bridge, zigzagging to avoid the geyser blasts. To make matters worse, they had to dodge Navid’s venom blasts and Marati’s astral claws as well.

“Surrender before we’re all killed,” Marati shouted.

“We already told you, we can’t do that,” Aldwyn replied.

Another blast of steam nearly singed the white-tailed mongoose.

“The spell cast on that necklace, the necklace you gave her, was conjured from the components and hexes found in your rooms,” Navid said. “And if there’s one thing we’ve learned from hunting down criminals, it’s that the innocent don’t run.”

“If we’re trapped in some dungeon, there’s no way for us to help save Queen Loranella,” Aldwyn said.

There was no break in the chase up the hillside. Skylar directed Aldwyn and Gilbert through the columns of towering jets. She glanced back and saw Navid and Marati guiding their squadron directly into the path of a series of gaping holes.

“All of those geysers are about to explode at the same time,” Skylar said to Aldwyn and Gilbert. “They’ll be boiled alive.”

Aldwyn knew that the Nightfall Battalion would stop at nothing to apprehend him and his companions. They’d lock them up in the depths of the New Palace and leave them to whatever fate the Council decided, whether it be life imprisonment or worse. But Navid and Marati were his friends, and the soldiers they led were good and honest, humans and animals just doing their jobs.

“Don’t go any farther,” Aldwyn shouted back. “Skylar discovered a pattern. You’re heading straight into a death trap.”

Marati seemed to consider the warning then stopped. “Everyone, fall back,” she ordered. “Hurry.”

The Nightfall Battalion began their retreat, and it was a good thing, too, because Skylar was right. The geysers exploded in unison, sending Navid, Marati, and their troop scrambling. It gave the familiars an opportunity to race ahead.

They reached the land bridge and realized that it wouldn’t be an easy passage. Boiling water from the geysers on the other side of the canyon poured down its center, flowing into the stream that tumbled over the edge of the Kettle Falls. Aldwyn and Gilbert would have to tiptoe across the dry portion of the bridge to make it to the other side without cooking their paws and toes.

While Navid and Marati continued to pull back from the geysers, a pair of the human Battalion officers was bolder. They conjured force shields and charged forward. The spell protected them from most of the boiling waters splashing down, but some of the spray reached their skin, causing pink welts to form on contact.

“I told you to stand down,” Marati called out.

But the men ignored her, racing for the land bridge with the hope of cutting off the familiars. Skylar was flying above as Aldwyn and Gilbert shuffled their way along the narrow strip of the bridge. It was only a matter of ten steps before one of the two soldiers was launched skyward, caught in a geyser burst. He let out a scream and fell to the ground with a crack.

The remaining officer reached the land bridge and pulled a noose stick from his waist. He sprinted along the edge of the bridge, avoiding the scalding water rushing past his feet. He extended the stick toward Gilbert and with a tug hooked the tree frog’s hind leg. The soldier yanked him back, pulling Gilbert off the ground and perilously dangling him over the deep canyon below.

It took Aldwyn a moment to realize his companion was no longer hopping behind him. He didn’t have time to act before Gilbert took charge. The tree frog reached for the sluggot still sitting on his shoulder. He squeezed it between his webbed fingers and flung it. The slimy critter flew through the air and smacked the soldier right between the eyes.

“Bull’s-eye!” Gilbert exclaimed.

The soldier dropped the noose stick that had ensnared Gilbert, and Aldwyn used telekinesis to catch it just before his friend disappeared into the darkness. Aldwyn lifted the long wooden pole and circular net back onto land. Gilbert wriggled his way free as the soldier continued to stumble back, trying to fight off the slug, which was now attempting to crawl up his nose.

Gilbert caught up to Aldwyn and Skylar on the other side of the bridge.

“Nice throw,” Aldwyn said.

“Nice catch,” Gilbert replied.

This time, the familiars didn’t bother to look back. Instead they looked through the clouds to the slope of the snow-covered mountains. Aldwyn could make out the three trident peaks of Kailasa, and he knew the Mountain Alchemist’s cabin was not far now.

“I
know they say no two snowflakes look alike, but you could have fooled me,” Gilbert said.

Thick blankets of white fell from the darkening night sky, coating everything on the mountainside in snow, including Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert. With some steps, Aldwyn found himself neck deep in the chilling powder. Gilbert often disappeared altogether. Even Skylar was having trouble. She couldn’t fly; her wings were too heavy with slush.

“We really need to tell the Alchemist to move somewhere less out of the way,” Gilbert said. “Maybe a beach house or a cozy little dwelling in Bronzhaven.”

“Well, there’s one plus to this storm,” Skylar said. “It will cover our tracks and make it next to impossible for the Nightfall Battalion to follow us.”

They climbed higher and arrived at the mountain spring. The trio had been here once before, on their first trek to the top of the mountain.

“Let’s steer clear of that pool,” Aldwyn said. “We don’t need another close call with the Alchemist’s pet pirahnadon.”

They made sure to avoid the waters, and approached the next stretch of their climb with extra caution. The Mountain Alchemist had magically rigged the trail to his front door with booby traps, all in an effort to keep away trespassers. Somewhere along this stretch Aldwyn remembered a giant hand made of snow that attacked them with a barrage of icy snowballs. But as they proceeded ahead, nothing happened. Aldwyn certainly wasn’t going to complain. The journey was difficult enough without one of the land’s most powerful wizards playing games with them.

By the time Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert stepped foot on the edge of the frozen lake, the snow had stopped falling.

“Oooh, a big one!” a deep voice grunted.

The familiars turned to see a giant cave troll crouched about halfway across the lake. He was clearly pleased with himself, admiring the foot-long fish he had just grabbed out of a hole he’d carved in the ice.

“That troll looks friendly enough,” Gilbert said hopefully.

The gray, stony-skinned creature bit off the head of the fish and chewed noisily.

“He might want to work on his manners, though,” Gilbert added.

“And that’s saying something, coming from you,” Aldwyn said.

“I’m surprised the Alchemist would allow a cave troll so close to his cabin,” Skylar said.

“Unless it’s not a real cave troll, but an illusionary one,” Aldwyn said. “Another clever trick to scare off unwelcome visitors.”

The troll chomped down the rest of the fish held in his stubby hand, accidentally biting into his own finger. The creature let out an angry growl, and he pounded a fist against the ice in frustration. The force of the blow sent a fissure along the surface of the lake, and shook Gilbert off his feet.

“Definitely
not
an illusion,” Gilbert said, slipping as he tried to stand back up.

Grabbing another handful of fish from the hole, the cave troll rose from the ice and took long, lumbering steps back toward the mountain. The eight-foot-tall creature stomped right past the familiars. Clearly the troll was less than observant, and more focused on the bounty in hand than the one at his feet.

Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert hurried across the lake. Once again, they were surprised to find their approach to the cabin so easy. On the Prophesized Three’s previous journey they had to go under this lake, not across it. That was because of an impassable, invisible wall, one that now seemed to be dispelled. Perhaps the Alchemist had grown softer with age. Or maybe he’d seen that the familiars were coming, and decided to give them a clear path.

The trio passed the spot where the illusionary cabin once stood, and rounded a cluster of rocks before arriving at the Mountain Alchemist’s cabin. It was just as Aldwyn remembered it, with a small porch out front and icicles dangling from the snow-covered roof.

They knocked several times, but no one answered.

“Hello?” Aldwyn called. “It’s Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert.”

After waiting another moment, Aldwyn pushed the door open and the Three entered.

“Is anybody home?” Skylar asked.

They stepped into a sitting room that doubled as the kitchen, then moved past the fireplace. Only ash remained; whatever logs had been inside were burned completely. Cold porridge still sat in a pot, uneaten.

“Edan!” Gilbert shouted, hoping for a response from the Mountain Alchemist’s time-stopping turtle.

But the eerie silence within only grew louder.

They headed down the hallway, stopping to peer inside the room where they had first met the Alchemist. Just as before, the bookshelves were all empty, but now so was the chair. Even the solitary book that the Alchemist did own was gone.

Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert hurried to the last room in the cabin, and there they found the entire alchemy studio destroyed. The apothecary cabinet had been turned on its side, all of its hundreds of tiny drawers littering the floor. Beakers were shattered. Gusts of wind blew through the broken windows. It was clear that the familiars were not going to find the Alchemist or Edan here.

“Someone came looking for something,” Skylar said.

“The question is, what?” Aldwyn asked.

“Guys, look at this,” Gilbert said.

They turned to see scuff marks leading out of the room, as if something had been dragged along the floor. The Three followed the trail of thin black lines left in the wood through the hall and up to a back door. They exited the cabin to find a large pile of snow with a glowing stone marker at its head, and although Aldwyn didn’t want to believe what he was seeing, he knew what it was: a grave site. Someone had been buried here, and he feared it was the Alchemist.

“First Loranella, now this,” Aldwyn said. “Something tells me it’s no coincidence.”

“We don’t know that it’s him for sure,” Skylar replied.

Although Aldwyn was more than a little hesitant to do so, he used his telekinesis to move the snow enough to see the frozen face of the Alchemist. With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he quickly covered it back up.

“Now what do we do?” he asked.

Gilbert had strayed away, unable to watch. But as he averted his eyes, he’d seen something else.

“Hey, I think this might be Edan’s trail,” the tree frog said.

Aldwyn and Skylar came over to take a look. Sure enough, there was a path leading away from the burial. While snow had fallen atop the prints, there was enough of a trace left to guess that they belonged to a tortoise.

“Let’s see if we can’t find him,” Skylar said.

And as quickly as they had come to the Alchemist’s cabin, they were leaving once more. Aldwyn was unsure if they’d be able to catch up to Edan before it started snowing in this region of the mountain, covering his tracks for good.

The familiars began heading downhill, moving as swiftly as they could. They hadn’t traveled more than half a mile before coming upon Edan, trudging slowly through the snow. Lucky for them, he was a turtle, and speed was not on his side.

“Edan, we’ve just come from the cabin,” Aldwyn said. “What happened?”

The tortoise seemed to look upon them with a heavy heart.

“There were too many for us to take,” he said. “Even with our magic, the slow and the blind didn’t stand much chance.”

“Did you see who they were? Or what they had come for?” Skylar asked.

“They wore crimson hoods, and bracelets. Just like the one around your talon.”

Edan gestured to Skylar’s anklet.

“The Noctonati?” she asked.

“That’s how it appeared,” he answered. “Or people posing to be so. They were searching for the Alchemist’s book. The one book he owned. The only copy in existence. Written by his grandfather Parnabus McCallister. It was the thirteenth volume in his collection of divining spells. There are many secrets hidden within.”

“Is there a spell that can cure someone of a parasitic poison?” Skylar asked.

“There is very little that the spells in that book are not capable of.”

“Where were you going?” Gilbert asked.