“Locavi instantanus,” he said aloud. “Show us the way to the Maidenmere cat called Yeardley.”
He removed his hands once more and leaned back expectantly. The stone began to quiver but that’s all it did. It never moved.
“Ask it to show you the way to the Well of Ashtheril,” Aldwyn said.
“Of course. Yes.” Gilbert rested his hand atop the stone and repeated Aldwyn’s suggestion. “Locavi instantanus. Show us the way to the Well of Ashtheril.”
He pulled back and waited. The stone gave an even more dramatic shake. Then it stopped. Aldwyn’s ears, which had perked up with hope, fell.
“I’m sorry, pal,” Gilbert said. “Guess I still need some more practice.”
“There you two are,” Skylar chirped out. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Aldwyn and Gilbert turned to see Skylar flying over, carrying a necklace in her talons.
“Come on,” she said. “I want us to be the first to give Queen Loranella a gift.”
“What did we get her anyway?” Aldwyn asked, looking at the black chain with dangling pearls, their emerald hue glowing under the twinkling light of the floating lanterns.
“It’s a necklace,” Skylar replied. “I made it myself. These pearls are from some oyster flowers we picked in the Xylem garden. I thought it would be nice for all three of us to present it to her together.”
Skylar was about to lead the way, just as one of the floating streamers got caught in a sudden gust of wind and smacked her in the face. Blinded, she flew right into an everwillow tree, causing her to drop the necklace. The chain slid toward a nearby sewer grate.
“Oh, no!” Skylar cried out.
Gilbert made a diving leap, grabbing it moments before it was lost to the tunnels below. Skylar shook free from the tangle of paper and looked to Anura.
“I thought you were supposed to bring luck to everyone but Gilbert,” she said.
“I can’t always explain the nature of my talent,” Anura replied. “It continues to surprise even me.”
Skylar gave the necklace a quick polish and resumed her flight toward Loranella. Aldwyn and Gilbert followed behind, leaving Anura sitting atop the table with the worn map. The Three arrived to find the queen engaged in a lively discussion with the bearded wizard Urbaugh, her trusted adviser.
“And I respectfully disagree,” he said. “A pardon to any who did not stand with you is simply unacceptable. They should be punished as an example to others.”
“We’re building a new Vastia, one that believes in forgiveness,” Loranella replied. “Fear can cloud the soundest mind’s judgment.”
“And so can generosity,” Urbaugh said. “Don’t be naive, my queen. Just because Paksahara is gone does not mean all evil died with her.”
Loranella spied Aldwyn, Gilbert, and Skylar waiting nearby.
“We’ll continue this later, Urbaugh. Unless I’m mistaken, I thought this was supposed to be a party.”
Urbaugh never looked like he was having much fun, but he appeared even more disgruntled than usual. He stomped off and Skylar swooped in.
“Queen Loranella, we’ve brought you a gift,” she said. “It’s just a token. Not much really.”
“It’s beautiful,” Loranella said, eyeing the necklace. “In fact, I’d like to try it on right now.”
Skylar waved Aldwyn and Gilbert over with a wing. The queen knelt down and lowered her head. Then Aldwyn mentally lifted the chain out of Skylar’s grasp and gently guided it around her neck. Loranella glanced at her reflection in the shiny armor of a nearby guard, admiring the gift. The pearls shimmered, making her eyes gleam brighter.
“It’s lovely,” the queen said. “Thank you.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Skylar replied, quite pleased with herself.
“So, now that you’ve all returned from your questabouts, are you prepared to take the next step in your training?” she asked. “I know Commander Warden expects great things from you. And there is still much for you to. . .”
Loranella’s words came to an abrupt stop. She began to gasp for air. Aldwyn watched as the black chain seared itself into the flesh of her neck, and the pearls buried themselves into her chest.
“Skylar, what’s happening?” Aldwyn asked in a panic.
“I don’t know,” she replied, equally alarmed.
“Do something!” Gilbert cried.
But there was nothing they could do. The queen was helpless, too, as the necklace continued to melt into her body. The chain burrowed so deeply under her skin that it appeared to be a thick black vein. The pearls were half-submerged in her collarbone, like seashells sticking out from the sand.
Now others were gathering, shouting out calls for help. The queen dropped down to her knees, and the whites of her eyes turned jet-black.
A palace healer sprinted up with a raven on his shoulder. He pushed aside the familiars as Loranella’s lips lost their color.
“Give us some space,” the healer ordered.
The raven landed next to the queen and rubbed its feathers across her chest, attempting to use its magical healing talent to cure her. Aldwyn could see that Loranella’s breathing had slowed. Her body was stiffening.
Soon, Commander Warden and Sorceress Edna were at the queen’s side. Galatea was nearby, as well, clearly upset to see her co-ruler under such severe duress.
“Remove all of her jewelry,” the healer said. “I don’t want anything interfering with the raven’s touch.”
Warden pulled off her crown, while Edna removed her rings and bracelets. The raven’s wing moved up and down Loranella’s arms and across her forehead. But she looked to be slipping ever further toward the Tomorrowlife.
“We need to get her to my chamber,” the healer said. “Quickly.”
A group of wizards raised their arms and the queen was carried up three stories and into an open window. With his wand outstretched, the palace healer flew behind her, raven at his side.
The enchanted harp had fallen silent. Only panicked muttering could be heard in the still night air. Every eye in the courtyard was on Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert.
Urbaugh and a half-dozen soldiers and wizards surrounded them. Galatea narrowed her eyes.
“Arrest them,” she said.
One of the wizards flicked his wrist and dispeller chains slithered out from the palace guard shed and wrapped around each of the three animals’ ankles.
“This is a big mistake,” Skylar said.
“We would never hurt the queen,” Aldwyn added.
Urbaugh turned to his soldiers.
“Take them to the dungeon,” he said coldly.
3
PRISONERS
“What could possibly be taking them so long?” Aldwyn asked. “I don’t understand why we’re still being kept down here.”
Several hours had passed since the familiars had been detained. The steel bars on the dungeon cell stared back at Aldwyn, their dull glow dampening any attempts at magic cast from within. No food. No water. No hint as to what those on the outside had in mind for them.
“We should be out there helping,” said Skylar, who was perched on a brick protruding from the wall. “I’ve seen tomes about reversing those kinds of necromantic spells. The longer we’re locked in here, the stronger that curse will become. It could be too late already.”
“Let’s not overreact, guys,” Gilbert said, almost sounding desperate. “The queen is probably recovering as we speak. Urbaugh just hasn’t had a chance to release us yet.”
“When I find out who’s responsible for this, I’ll hang the traitor myself,” Skylar said.
“Hang?” Gilbert croaked. “Is that what they do to traitors?” He hopped up to the bars and shouted at the top of his lungs, “We’re innocent! We didn’t do anything!”
“I never met a dungeon dweller who didn’t claim to be innocent,” a voice called out from the darkness.
Aldwyn looked over to discover that the voice belonged to a warthog stand
ing in the cell across the hall. He was thin and pale, but his tusks appeared as sharp as ever.
“We are innocent,” Aldwyn said.
“And I did not commit treason against Loranella,” the warthog replied, flashing the double hex—two concentric circles with a five-pointed star at its center—branded into his paw. It was the sign of allegiance to Paksahara, the evil hare who had tried to take over the queendom. The warthog continued, “I was trying to save our land from the rule of humans. Good to have the three of you on our side now.”
“Are you responsible for this?” Skylar demanded.
The warthog smiled and slunk back into the shadows.
Just then the heavy metal door to the dungeon could be heard swinging open. Footsteps followed and soon a bolka-dur appeared. Troll-like, with green, wart-covered skin and a snout, the creature wore a collar with keys dangling from it. Urbaugh walked alongside the dungeon keeper with a torch floating in front of him. Behind them were three expressionless figures dressed in crimson robes. These were the Truth Seekers, interrogators of the queens’ guard. Each removed a steel cage from hooks hanging on the wall and continued down the hall.
The bolka-dur used one of the keys to unlock Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert’s cell, and the others entered.
“Galatea has ordered each of you to be questioned,” Urbaugh said coldly, avoiding eye contact with the familiars. “And it won’t be by me. The Truth Seekers were dragged out in the middle of the night to do it.”
“Urbaugh,” Aldwyn pleaded, “you know we would never do something like this. Please, you have to believe us.”
“In my heart, I do,” Urbaugh said. “But what I’ve seen with my own eyes tells a different story.”
Seen with his own eyes? What was he talking about?
Urbaugh gestured for Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert to exit their cell. They were immediately ushered into separate cages, locked in, and picked up by the Truth Seekers. Aldwyn watched through the tiny slit of his cage as he was carried down the hall. He could see other inhabitants of the dungeon staring back at him as he and his companions were led toward the door. Firescale snakes, wolverines, and the worst that humankind had to offer.
“Don’t let them intimidate you, brother,” one of the wolverines snarled.
“And whatever you do, don’t grovel for forgiveness,” added a firescale snake. “You only did what the rest of us wish we could have.”
It made Aldwyn’s fur bristle to hear these villains of Vastia think of him as one of them. He had been thought of as a scoundrel before, when he was forced to steal food on the streets of Bridgetower. But even then, his crimes were committed only so he could survive. He never hurt anyone. Then everything changed for him. Jack chose him as his familiar and he discovered that he was one of the Prophesized Three, destined to save the queendom. He became part of something bigger than himself, something he could be proud of. People saw him not as a lowly street urchin but as a hero. And he never wanted to go back.
The Truth Seekers stopped before the dungeon door, waiting as the bolka-dur let them and Urbaugh through. They continued into the forbidden hallways rarely seen by castle visitors. Aldwyn even caught a glimpse of the steel door to the palace vault, which spit fire as they passed. A few steps later the Truth Seeker carrying Aldwyn took a sudden turn away from Gilbert and Skylar.
“Hey,” Aldwyn called. “Where are you taking me? Why aren’t I going with them?”
His questions were met by silence.
Aldwyn’s cage was set down on a table and the door unlocked. The Maidenmere cat stepped out and stretched his legs, then looked around the room. It was simple and empty, and the walls were the same creamy alabaster as the ones in the cellar of Kalstaff’s cottage.
The Truth Seeker sat opposite him in a chair. The hooded robe was pulled back to reveal a dark-skinned woman, expressionless.
“Ask me anything,” Aldwyn said. “I have nothing to hide.”
“I will not be the one asking the questions,” the woman said. “My familiar will be.”
A tarsier emerged from behind her robe. The pocket-size primate had spindly fingers, a snakelike tail three times the length of its body, and giant piercing eyes that took up half its head.
“It’s quite a thrill to be sitting across from the prophesized cat,” the tarsier said. “And a mighty big surprise. Under these circumstances, anyway.”
“Whatever evidence you think you have, it’s a setup.”
Aldwyn looked into the tarsier’s bulging eyes. He attempted to read his mind but was met with nothing more than a hazy cloud of gray. There appeared to be some kind of magic protecting the thoughts of Aldwyn’s inquisitor.
“Have you ever been a member of the Noctonati?” the tarsier asked.
“No. Never.”
“Have you ever been associated with a member of the Noctonati?”
“What are you getting at?” Aldwyn asked.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The tarsier’s eyes never wavered from Aldwyn’s. “Have you ever been in possession of mugwort? Echo drool? Vulgar cinquefoil?”
“I don’t know. I hardly keep track of all the components I’ve come across.”
“Black lichen? Tarantula teeth? Ghoul bile? I could keep going if you like.”
“Yes, I’m sure you could,” Aldwyn replied. “I just have no idea what it has to do with me.”
“They were found in your rooms,” the tarsier said. “Along with a copy of Wyvern and Skull’s Tome of the Occult.”
“That’s ridiculous. Someone planted those things,” Aldwyn said. “Besides, doesn’t that seem a bit convenient? I mean, if I was really going to hurt the queen, why would I leave evidence of it in my room?”
“Ah, so tell me, how would you hurt the queen?”
“Now you’re just twisting my words,” Aldwyn said. “I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“Whose idea was it to visit Agdaleen’s lair?” the tarsier asked.
“That was months ago.” Aldwyn thought for a moment. “I suppose it was Skylar.”
“Hm. Interesting. And her questabout? Where did she go again?”
“The lost Xylem garden of Horteus Ebekenezer.”
“Ah, the fabled garden filled with forbidden components.” The tarsier paused. “Have you ever questioned your good friend Skylar’s loyalty?”
Aldwyn remained silent. He had.
“Have you ever thought that Skylar was capable of hurting someone that you loved?”
He had.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“But I was wrong,” Aldwyn said. “I had misinterpreted one of Gilbert’s puddle viewings. I never should have doubted her.”
“Or maybe you should have.”
“Are you finished yet?” Aldwyn asked.
“No, I’m just getting started. Let’s talk about you for a moment. Orphaned as a kitten. A long history of theft. Street fights. There was even a bounty on your head by numerous fish and fowl shops in Bridgetower. They considered you their number one enemy.”
“I didn’t hear a question.”
“Do you ever miss your life of crime?” the tarsier asked.
“No,” Aldwyn answered. “Not for a moment. I only did those things out of necessity. To eat. To survive. It’s not the same.”
“Once a criminal, always a criminal in my book,” the tarsier said. “Tell me more. Malvern. He was one of Paksahara’s most trusted conspirators. And your uncle.”
“Malvern betrayed me and my family. I was hardly on his side. His death at my paw should be evidence enough of that.”
“So you admit that you are a murderer?”
“It was self-defense,” Aldwyn said.
“But you proved that you’re capable of killing.”
Aldwyn was getting more and more frustrated. He didn’t like this one bit. And even though it was tempting, clawing the tarsier’s eyes out certainly wouldn’t help his cause.
“You haven’t even told me,” Aldwyn said, holding back his anger.
“How is Queen Loranella?”
“Concerned that perhaps you and your companions didn’t finish the job?”
“Please,” Aldwyn said. “Please tell me that she’s all right.”
“The best healers in Vastia are by her side. They’ve been able to keep her in the Wander, between this life and the Tomorrowlife.”
Aldwyn exhaled. Relief flooded him. No matter the predicament he was in, at least she wasn’t dead.
The door creaked open and one of the other crimson-robed Truth Seekers entered. She walked up to the woman sitting across from Aldwyn and whispered in her ear. As suddenly as she arrived, she was gone.
“Gilbert has confessed,” said the woman. “This interrogation does not need to go on any longer.”
“It’s a lie,” Aldwyn said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Perhaps his conscience was heavier than yours,” the tarsier said.
“No. You must have confused him. Or tricked him. There was nothing for him to admit to, because we didn’t do anything!”
“This much I do know,” the tarsier said. “There will be leniency for those who cooperate. If you insist on withholding the truth, your punishment will be severe.”
No threat, whatever the consequence, would make the orphan cat confess to a crime he didn’t commit. Growing up on the streets of Bridgetower, honor was all that he had. And he wasn’t going to compromise it now.
“I’m innocent,” Aldwyn said simply. “We all are.”
The tarsier turned to his loyal and the two shared a look.
“Back in your cage, cat,” the Truth Seeker said.
Aldwyn returned to the metal carrier. The tarsier climbed inside his loyal’s robe, and she locked the cage and lifted it from the table.
She retraced her steps back to the door of the dungeon, where the bolka-dur was waiting. The creature gleefully ran his stubby fingers along the chain of keys around his neck until he found the right one and slid it into the lock. Once through to the other side, they returned to Aldwyn’s cell, where again the bolka-dur did what he did best. He unlocked the otherwise impenetrable cell. Gilbert was already inside.
Aldwyn’s cage door was opened and he was allowed to join his companion. The Truth Seeker departed. Gilbert sat in the corner, a mix of shock and fear on his face.
The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams Page 3
