The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams (20 page)

“I remember.”

“It was cursed, with a parasitic poison. Everyone thinks we were responsible. That we tried to kill you.”

“Someone must have gone to a lot of trouble to frame you, then,” the queen said.

“Who would want you dead?” Aldwyn asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve made my fair share of enemies over the years. Do you have any clues?”

“Well, for one, the Mountain Alchemist is dead. We visited the Turn to try and contact him in the Tomorrowlife, but a spell vacuum had been cast over the spot to keep him from us. Oh, and his only book, the thirteenth volume of Parnabus McCallister’s Divining Spells, had been taken, too. We went to Turnbuckle Academy to look for something in Kalstaff’s old journals, but the pages had been torn out. And that wasn’t all. Yajmada’s armor, the one he kept in his cottage cellar, it was missing as well.”

The queen paced the room.

“You said you visited the Turn. While you were there, did you see the monument? There should have been a gem within the plaque.”

“The monument was shattered, the gem gone,” Aldwyn said. It was clear that the queen had figured something out. “Why? What is it?”

“Yajmada’s armor is one of the most powerful weapons of destruction ever created. But only when the four storm diamonds are all in place. After Wyvern and Skull were defeated, Kalstaff, the Mountain Alchemist, and I each took one of the diamonds. The fourth was hidden inside the monument at the Turn. Someone is trying to collect them once more.”

“What if they already have?” Aldwyn asked.

“For the sake of Vastia, let’s hope that’s not the case,” she said. “You need to get me out of the Wander. I can’t be of any use here.”

“That’s why I’ve come,” Aldwyn said. “You’re the only one who knows how to re-create Somnibus Everwake’s remedy for a parasitic poison. You must tell me so I can return to the outside world and get it to you before it’s too late.”

“Yes, of course.”

Loranella retrieved a quill pen from a small writing table and began to transcribe the spell’s ingredients from memory. All forty-three of them.

“I’ve felt like a prisoner in my own palace walls,” she said as she wrote. “I’m starting to lose track of time here. How long have I been trapped like this?”

“Almost three days now,” Aldwyn said. “There isn’t much time. I should go. I still need to find a way out of this place. And Skylar and Gilbert.”

She handed him the scrap of parchment and then took him by the paw.

“Aldwyn, you need to be very careful. Whoever did this to me, whoever framed you, is very dangerous. Once they possess Yajmada’s armor and the four storm diamonds, there will be no way to stop them.”

“There was one more thing,” Aldwyn said. “A message written to me while I was being kept in the dungeon beneath the palace. It said, ‘Spuowbip wjots sby udpjbm uosdwoyt.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

She considered for a moment.

“I’m sorry. No.”

“We entered the Dreamworld through a dreaming rug, but we won’t be able to escape through the same portal,” Aldwyn said. “Do you know of any other way back to Vastia?”

“I took precautions on a visit here many moons ago,” Loranella replied. “In case I was ever trapped with no other way to escape, I hid a dreaming rug. It’s beyond the glass ball, by the glyphstone.”

“And what about getting out of the palace?” Aldwyn asked.

“Just as you found your way in, you’ll find your way out,” she said. “See you when I’m awake.”

Aldwyn gave her a final glance, then bounded for the door. He raced back for the palace exit with the parchment held between his teeth. Once outside, he returned to the top of the same steps he had ascended from the ground. From this high vantage point, Aldwyn was able to look out and see beyond the glass ball, to the dandelion field he sank into. There standing among the petals were Skylar, Gilbert, and the remwalker. It appeared that they had never left. He felt a flood of relief that they were safe, and now understood why he didn’t see them within the palace. While Aldwyn had been able to use the dandelions to transport himself inside the glass ball, the same rules didn’t apply to his companions.

Aldwyn raced down the steps and up to the glass wall nearest the field. He banged his paws against the clear divide.

“Gilbert! Skylar! Over here!”

When they saw Aldwyn, Skylar, Gilbert, and the remwalker hurried over.

“Did you find her?” Skylar called through the glass.

“She told us everything we need to know to create the potion,” Aldwyn replied, holding up the list. “Now I just need to figure a way out of here.”

He looked at the snowflakes falling all around him, but had little idea of how they could be of any use to him. Aldwyn racked his brain. Maybe there was a way to break through the glass. But even the four of them together wouldn’t be strong enough to do that. Although there just might have been something that was.

“Skylar,” Aldwyn said. “I want you to cast an illusion of Elzzup, and make sure he’s wearing the same necklace.”

Skylar didn’t ask any questions. She simply lifted her wings and summoned a replica of the now deceased possum before them.

“How exactly is this going to help get you out of there?” Gilbert asked.

Suddenly the ground began to tremble. Soon they saw a creature thundering out from behind the mountain. It was the giant beast that had crushed Elzzup. And it was heading straight for them.

“Skylar, move the illusion of Elzzup as close to the glass as you can,” Aldwyn said.

As she did just that, Aldwyn darted underneath the outer palace steps to take cover. It was a good thing, too, because a moment later, the monster charged right through the illusion of Elzzup, slamming its horned head and shoulder into the glass wall. The glass shattered upon contact. Aldwyn curled himself into a ball as hundreds of shards of glass went flying in every direction.

Skylar sent the illusion of Elzzup running into the desert. The monster took off after it, and Aldwyn crawled out from under the steps. He carefully shook himself off and navigated through the fallen glass debris to his companions.

“Let’s go see my father,” the remwalker said. “He should be able to help you find another way back to the outside world.”

“We won’t have to go that far,” Aldwyn said. “Queen Loranella told me she hid a dreaming rug by the glyphstone.”

“I know where that is,” the remwalker said. “We better hurry. It’s almost midnight.”

The desert was becoming populated with people, sleepers from Vastia and the Beyond. The group quickened their pace, as all around them this world’s nightmarish transformation began to take place. Worms and stinging ants rose up from the ground, slithering up the ankles and legs of any who passed. Aldwyn and Gilbert tried to brush away the creepy crawlers, but for every one they swatted off, three more took its place.

Skylar flew above the fray, but a thick cloud of biting flies enveloped the sky, casting a dark haze over everything in its path. Skylar was forced to drop down to the ground to avoid being swallowed. The remwalker had to cover her lips to keep the swarm from her mouth.

Panic was starting to erupt, with men, women, and animals desperate for a means of escape but finding none.

“This is awful,” Gilbert said.

“It happens every night,” the remwalker replied. “Appnians know to seek shelter. Those who dream have no choice but to endure this.”

“Why?” Gilbert asked.

“No one is sure,” the remwalker said. “Some think it is fueled by the fears that bubble up as we sleep.”

Pushing through hordes of hysterical dreamers, Aldwyn spotted the broken remains of the glyphstone up ahead. Sheets of red rain fell from the sky, drenching the familiars and the remwalker. Upon reaching the crumbled stone, Aldwyn searched the rubble and found a rolled-up rug tucked into a hollow space.

“Over here,” he called to the others.

They came up beside him as he used his mind to lay the dreaming rug flat on the ground. Just as Gilbert and Skylar were about to join Aldwyn atop the swirling pattern at the rug’s center, the remwalker held the five-inch knife up to Gilbert’s throat.

“I’m sorry I have to do this,” she said. “But the only way I can leave is if one from your world takes my place here.”

“So that’s why you’ve gone to so much trouble to help us,” Aldwyn said.

“I’ve wrestled with whether or not it would come to this,” the remwalker said. “But I can’t stay here any longer. I just want things to be the same, to stop changing.”

Her bloodshot eyes looked more sad than angry.

“Hurting someone isn’t the answer,” Skylar reasoned. “We’ll find another way to get you out. Put the knife down.”

The remwalker’s hand quivered but she wouldn’t loosen her grip on the knife. Aldwyn telekinetically lifted one of the glyphstone fragments and cracked it across the back of her head. Her legs went limp beneath her and she fell to the dirt, unconscious.

“Come on,” Aldwyn said. “Let’s get out of here.”

The three animals laid their heads on the rug and closed their eyes. Aldwyn felt a tug pulling him down into what felt like a viscous liquid, and when he paddled his way to the surface he was emerging out through a different rug into a small room. Skylar and Gilbert came up through the portal as well.

After he caught his breath, Aldwyn ran over to a nearby window. He used his mind to open the shutters, and when he peered out he was staring at a gold-and-silver-paved street.

They were back in Bronzhaven.

“T
hat leaves about thirty components,” Skylar said.

She was perched on a table inside an abandoned cottage with the parchment listing the healing potion’s ingredients laid out before her. Beside it, she had pulled more than a dozen components from her leather satchel.

“Luckily, I acquired some of the rarer ones from the Xylem garden,” she said. “We’ll need to get the rest from an apothecary.”

“Why don’t we just turn ourselves in to Galatea?” Gilbert asked. “We can tell her what we’ve discovered and have the ravens and palace healers conjure the potion.”

“What if we don’t make it that far?” Aldwyn countered. “What if they lock us back up in the dungeons again? We can’t risk it.”

They turned to Skylar for the deciding vote.

“I’m sorry, Gilbert,” she said. “We’ve already tried to reason with our closest allies, and look how that turned out. We need to see this through on our own.”

“Once again, I’m the odd frog out,” Gilbert said.

“There’s an apothecary not far from here,” Skylar continued. “It’s where Sorceress Edna always picks up her mugwort. She says the alchemist there carries the freshest components this side of the Ebs.”

“We’re still fugitives, you know,” Gilbert said. “By now, everyone in Vastia will be looking for us.”

“We’ll have to wait until the first sign of sun, travel under the guise of another one of Skylar’s illusions, and take what we need,” Aldwyn said. “If we save the queen, we’ll be heroes again and all will be forgiven.”

Skylar collected her things off the table, and the familiars rested their eyes and waited. A few hours passed before the earliest rays of light began creeping through the window. It was time. They exited the cottage into a quiet back alley.

“Skylar, lead the way,” Aldwyn said.

Gilbert and Skylar returned to their perch on Aldwyn’s back. The blue jay raised a wing and cast another illusion, making them again look like a bulldog.

“Go all the way to the end, then take the path along the edge of the park,” Skylar said.

Aldwyn followed her directions, moving as quickly as he could through the alleyway before emerging onto the street. As he hurried along, he could see the townsfolk gathered around a horse cart, all dressed in yellow mourner’s garb. They were holding vigil around a statue of Queen Loranella, which stood in the cart. It was covered in flowers. Slips of paper were tucked and folded into the floral arrangements. Some of the people were approaching the statue, placing valuables of their own all around it. Others chanted in unison, humming words in elvish. From the tired, defeated looks on their faces, they’d lost hope Loranella was on her way to recovery.

“Turn up there,” Skylar said. “The apothecary’s across the street.”

Aldwyn spotted it, a small shop with a sign above the door that read “The Bubbling Vial.” Beneath the name was a picture of a beaker that magically filled up with components and then boiled over before doing it again. A group of wizards entered and the familiars seized the opportunity to sneak in alongside them.

The shop was crowded with early morning customers, all browsing the alphabetized rows of glass jars. They were sniffing and examining each component before either placing it in their basket or returning it to the shelf. A middle-aged woman with a cane hobbled around the store selling her wares.

“I highly recommend the powdered rhubarb,” the woman said to an elder sorcerer whose basket was already overflowing with goods. “Just got it in from the western border jungles last night. Perfect for conjuring phantom swords.”

She turned to another customer.

“They should have everything we need,” Skylar said, clutching the parchment in her talon. “Grab a basket.”