MAP
DEDICATION
For my mom, who always believes in me.
—A. J. E.
For Willa, my daughter.
Never stop following your dreams.
—A. J.
CONTENTS
Map
Dedication
1
Questabout
2
A Birthday Surprise
3
Prisoners
4
Icari Weed
5
Game of Sluggots
6
Revealing Glasses
7
Kettle Falls
8
The Alchemist’s Cabin
9
Old Friends
10
Sand and Stone
11
Torn
12
Another Way
13
Remwalker
14
To the Mountain
15
Elzzup’s Puzzle
16
Midnight
17
The Bubbling Vial
18
Thompson Warden
19
Well of Ashtheril
About the Authors
Back Ad
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
1
QUESTABOUT
According to Vastian folklore, the island was haunted, and one look at the solitary castle clinging to the isle’s bloodred cliffs left little doubt in Aldwyn’s mind that the ghost stories were true.
“Yeardley, here we come,” Jack said.
Aldwyn’s heart skipped a beat, excited by the thought of reuniting with the twin sister he had been separated from since birth.
Aldwyn and Jack’s two-man sailing skiff rapidly approached the treacherous shallows. Despite the danger, it was the only route to shore. Looking at his familiar, the young wizard in training added, “Won’t be long now!”
The Maidenmere cat stood at the bow, his claws digging into the waterlogged wooden planks. His loyal was scrambling in back, tightening the lines for their arrival.
“Prepare the anchor for landing,” Jack called out.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Aldwyn replied, giving the boy a salute with his paw.
Aldwyn flipped the deck chest open, pulled out the anchor, and uncoiled its rope. But not with his paws. He did it with his mind. Like all the cats of Maidenmere, Aldwyn possessed the magical talent of telekinesis, and he was getting better at it all the time.
He looked back up from the rocky crags to the castle. If his last few months of investigation proved correct, Yeardley would be inside. Word had it that she’d been sold to a justiciary from the Equitas Isles, and by all accounts this cursed island in the Beyond, over one hundred miles south of the Vastian border, was where the high judge could be found holding her as his pet, or perhaps against her will as a captive.
“Aldwyn, hold on!” Jack shouted, pointing to a bubbling in the water ahead.
Suddenly the ocean erupted. A giant sea scorpion burst forth, the razor-sharp stinger at the end of its tail whipping from side to side. Their only options were to either retreat or meet the scorpion head-on.
Aldwyn and Jack’s vessel barreled straight for it.
Jack was already chanting: “Rooster’s feather, buttered crumpet, ocean winds, sound the trumpet!”
A wave crashed against the bow and its spray formed into the shape of a horn. Then a gust of wind blew through it, sending out a bellowing call. The sound didn’t stop the beast looming before them. If anything, the scorpion was angered even more, its pincers snapping menacingly. But the magical trumpet wasn’t created to cause fear. It was to call for help.
The sailing skiff began to rise up from the water. There beneath them they saw a traveling whale, lifting the boat high above the surf. The scorpion didn’t have time to react before the great blueback’s forehead rammed into the creature, cracking open its exoskeleton like an eggshell. The whale continued to charge forward, crushing the scorpion’s shattered remains against the rocky crag.
“We owe you one!” Jack called out to the whale, who continued to carry the skiff on its back.
“I know they say it’s nice to have friends in high places, but it doesn’t hurt to have a few underwater, either,” Aldwyn said.
As the inlet became shallower, the blueback was forced to slow, dipping its head and allowing the sailing skiff to slip gently into the waters. Aldwyn and Jack coasted for the gravel beach, while the whale turned for the sea, giving a farewell blast of spray from its six blowholes.
The front of the skiff ran ashore, its wooden hull clattering against the bed of pebbles beneath.
“Anchors away,” Jack instructed Aldwyn.
Aldwyn telekinetically flung the iron wedge far enough up the beach so that its metal points embedded themselves deep in the sand. The rope went taut, preventing the sailing vessel from getting dragged back into the ocean.
Jack made sure the leather component pouch across his chest and the wand tucked into his belt were secure. Then he pulled a short sword from his sheath and clambered out of the boat. Aldwyn, armed with nothing more than his mind, followed him across the bleak landscape. Pebble crabs and land lobsters scurried out of their way as they walked toward the zigzagging staircase carved into the cliff’s side, which was splintered with cracks.
Since their first conversation in Kalstaff’s cottage at Stone Runlet, loyal and familiar had dreamed of being Beyonders, going on adventures like this together. They hadn’t been sent out on a mission—just the two of them alone—until now. And so far, their quest had exceeded Aldwyn’s highest hopes.
“It’s been said that for many who climb to the top of those stairs, it’s a one-way trip.” The words came out of Jack’s mouth in a whisper.
“If you’re trying to scare me, you’re going to have to do better than that,” Aldwyn said.
“It’s not rust or sandstone that give those cliffs their crimson color. It’s blood.”
“Okay, that was better,” Aldwyn said with a shudder.
They began to climb, taking one narrow step at a time. Inside the castle at the top of the cliff, people came from far and wide to stand before the justiciary. They came with arguments, disputes, and moral quandaries that no house of trials, royal court, or council elder could solve. If a decision was made in their favor, they descended the staircase happy. If not, they took a faster way down. The specters of those fallen bodies were said to haunt the cliffs.
“Go to your happy place, go to your happy place,” Aldwyn said. “An all-you-can-eat fish buffet.”
“I think you’ve been spending a little too much time with Gilbert,” Jack replied.
It was true. Aldwyn’s easily panicked tree frog best friend had been rubbing off on him. But even the rarely rattled Skylar, the third member of the Prophesized Three, would have been unnerved by the otherworldly screams that whistled through the rocks.
Of course, Gilbert and Skylar were on their own questabouts with their loyals, far from this haunted isle.
After the dust had settled from the defeat of Paksahara—Queen Loranella’s traitorous hare familiar—life in Vastia returned to normal, with human and animal ruling the queendom together. In the months following the destruction of the Dead Army of zombie animals Paksahara raised from the ground, Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert resumed their training with their wizard companions inside the protective walls of Bronzhaven. Side by side, familiar and loyal worked to strengthen their magical bond.
Now they had all been sent on separ
ate missions—wizarding rites of passage—to test what they had learned. Gilbert and Marianne had traveled to the Ocean Oracle to seek the ancient Protocols of Divination, a rare tome offering insight into the art of clairvoyance. Skylar and Dalton were off searching for the lost Xylem garden of the great forest communer, Horteus Ebekenezer. And Aldwyn and Jack were here, perhaps on the most dangerous quest of all. To find Aldwyn’s sister.
“What do I say when I see her?” Aldwyn asked.
“Didn’t you tell me your sister reads minds?” Jack replied. “Maybe you won’t need to say anything at all.”
“I’m serious, Jack. The only other family member I’ve ever met tried to kill me. Multiple times. I just want this to go well.”
Aldwyn was starting to feel dizzy and off balance, and not just because the steps below his paws were nearly crumbling. It was that he had built up so much hope for this moment. Now he was merely a few flights away.
“Why don’t you start with, ‘Hey, I’m your long-lost twin brother, Aldwyn,’” Jack suggested. “She cries. You hug. Big happy family reunion. Then we ask nicely if she can leave with us.”
“And if the justiciary refuses?” Aldwyn asked. “We don’t know if he’s a friend or foe.”
“Well, that’s why I brought this,” Jack said, gesturing with his short sword.
“What’s it like having a sister, anyway?”
“Pretty annoying actually. If she’s anything like my sister, Marianne, you’ve come a long way to find someone who’ll tease and humiliate you for the rest of your life.”
The two shared a smile.
Just then, Aldwyn felt a viselike grip tighten around his tail. Long, slender fingers with pointy nails reached out from the underside of the staircase. Aldwyn pulled free, losing a tuft of fur in the process. More arms were emerging from the rocks, and the specters of the isle began slipping out from the cracks in the cliff’s side. Their faces were narrow, their mouths twisted in a permanent scream.
Jack swung his sword at one of the attacking specters. The blade cut directly through the ghostly figure and struck the wall behind it.
Aldwyn lifted a chunk of crumbling step with his mind and hurled it at another of the vengeful spirits. Once again the attempt was in vain.
“Owww!” Jack cried.
One of the specters’ nails had dug into his arm, leaving a trail of blood from his elbow down to his wrist. It seemed that while these haunted beings could not be harmed by blade or stone, they could easily hurt the living.
Very quickly Aldwyn and Jack’s path up the staircase was blocked by a swarm of moaning specters.
“What do we do now?” Aldwyn asked.
“We find another way to the castle,” Jack said, whipping out his wand and pointing it skyward. “Hop on.”
Aldwyn grabbed hold of his loyal’s leg, and the two, led by Jack’s wand, took flight. But they didn’t get far before one of the specters ripped the wand from Jack’s hand, sending them into a free fall.
As they tumbled through the air, Jack stabbed his sword at the cliff’s side. The blade scraped along the rocks, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. The specters shrieked and howled, frightened by the flecks of electricity. The tip of Jack’s sword wedged itself into a thin crevice, stopping their fall. But Aldwyn could see the stone was splintering around the sword, and the wicked ghosts—no longer deterred by the sparks—were back in pursuit.
Aldwyn flipped open Jack’s component pouch and telekinetically tossed a dozen storm berries at the specters. Tiny gray clouds appeared, accompanied by rain and lightning. The sparking bolts sent the ghosts back into a panic, forcing them to retreat into the cracks in the cliff.
“Good thing Skylar made us take those berries,” Jack said.
“She always says nothing helps out in a pinch like storm berries,” Aldwyn replied. “And to never leave home without them.”
“Now how do we get out of here?” Jack asked, feet dangling in midair.
Aldwyn glanced around. They were too far from the staircase to grab hold of it. The sword was giving way. And those storm clouds weren’t going to last forever.
“We’re slipping,” Jack said as the stone around the metal tip began to crumble.
Then the blade dislodged itself from the mountainside and Jack and Aldwyn dropped like two stones. Speeding toward the ground, Aldwyn scanned the beach for something that might save them. Anything. Then he spied a polished wooden rod amid the pebbles: Jack’s wand! He focused all his attention and snatched it up with his mind. Just before they made impact, the wand flew into Jack’s hand. They immediately changed course, soaring to the top of the cliffs, never slowing until they touched down outside the castle keep.
“We were nearly food for the worms,” Jack said.
“An all-too-common feeling in my life,” Aldwyn replied.
“But better than actually being food for the worms,” Jack said.
“I can’t argue with that.”
Unlike the collapsing staircase that led up to it, the justiciary’s castle was an imposing fortress of solid steel. It stood three stories tall, with pikes lining the perimeter of the rooftop. Scales of justice were engraved on the front doors. One side weighed a severed hand choking a snake; the other the silhouette of a dove rising up from a flaming nest. The walls popped and sizzled, emitting some kind of electrical energy. Even from a distance, it made the fur on Aldwyn’s back stand on end.
Jack headed for the door, but Aldwyn hesitated. It was as if his paws were trapped in quickmud. He was so close yet he hardly felt ready.
“Come on, Aldwyn,” Jack said. “Meeting your sister is the one thing on this island that you shouldn’t be afraid of.”
Aldwyn pictured seeing Yeardley for the first time since he was a day-old kitten and took a calming breath. He joined Jack at the castle’s entrance. Jack reached out his fist and rapped his knuckles on the door. The two waited. For a moment it seemed like no one was going to answer. Then the door was pulled inward by a large, bearded man dressed in scuffed leather armor. He was holding a metal staff that crackled at the tip. Bright white sparks filled the air. Upon seeing Jack and Aldwyn, he lowered it, extinguishing the sparks.
“You never know when one of those specters will try and sneak its way inside,” he said. “I wish you’d sent a messenger arrow to alert me to your arrival. I would have met you down at the beach. It’s a miracle you made it up here alive without one of these.”
The guard gave his sparking staff a little pat.
“We’re here to see the justiciary,” Jack said.
“I could have guessed as much,” the man joked. “We don’t get too many tourists coming around here.”
He opened the door wider and allowed them entrance.
Aldwyn and Jack followed the guard down a long hallway to a spacious room with a wooden chair and table sitting atop a dais. Dozens of troubled Vastians lined the hall, many embroiled in heated arguments. It was clear they had come to state their cases before the justiciary.
“Do you have any idea how long we’ll need to wait?” Jack asked.
“Well, that depends on when he returns,” the guard replied.
“Returns?” Jack asked.
“Yes. The justiciary’s services were requested by the Legion of Mindcasters. He’s been absent for some time now.”
“Ask him about Yeardley,” Aldwyn urged Jack.
“What about the Maidenmere cat he keeps by his side? Is she here?”
“Oh, no. The justiciary never travels without her. That black-and-white is a very powerful ally.”
“And this Legion of Mindcasters,” Jack said. “Do you know where they are located?”
“I’m afraid that’s confidential, young man. Top secret.”
But the answer wasn’t good enough for Aldwyn. His eyes narrowed in on the guard. He focused his mental energy the same way he did for telekinesis, only this time he wasn’t trying to move anything. He was attempting to read the man’s mind.
Aldw
yn had only recently discovered that he had inherited his mother’s telepathic powers. They were still developing, and he had yet to learn how to control them. Months of practice had not helped, as his readings were spotty at best. Still, he concentrated, trying to open the guard’s brain like a book.
Suddenly words came into his head: Well of Ashtheril.
Aldwyn knew that’s where Yeardley and the justiciary were.
“Aldwyn, what is it?” Jack asked, sensing something.
“We can go now,” Aldwyn said.
Jack nodded and the two turned for the door.
You shouldn’t have done that, cat. You shouldn’t have pried.
Aldwyn looked back, but it was clear he hadn’t heard the words spoken aloud. It was what the guard was thinking. And now he was aiming the reignited sparking tip of his metal staff at them.
“Usually, I only use this on those vile cliff ghosts,” the guard said. “But today I’m going to make an exception.”
He fired off a blast of lightning that shot right between Aldwyn and Jack.
“Trussilium bindus!” Jack shouted.
A silver rope materialized in his hand and he threw the coiled end around the staff. With a tug it flew into Jack’s waiting palm. Aldwyn used his telekinesis to push open the front doors, and as he leaped onto the back of Jack’s tunic, the two made a running jump off the edge of the cliff.
Jack’s wand guided them through the air as the crackling staff kept the specters at bay.
“So, where to next?” Jack asked.
“The Well of Ashtheril,” Aldwyn called back.
“The what? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Neither have I. But wherever it is, we’ll find it. We have to.”
Jack pointed the wand down toward the beached ship. Aldwyn was disappointed that they’d be leaving the Equitas Isles without Yeardley. But their trip had provided him with an important clue. He was another step closer to his sister. And he knew that with the help of his companions back in Bronzhaven, he would find her.
2
A BIRTHDAY SURPRISE
“Tighter . . . tighter. Too tight.”
Gilbert was wrapped head to toe in seaweed and looked like a slimy green mummy. A young palace hand stood in the spa waters loosening the kelp around the tree frog’s ankle.
The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams Page 1
