The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams

by Adam Jay Epstein

  Two topiaries with branches shaped like crab claws went charging past them, nearly stepping on Gilbert in their pursuit of a young female wizard.

  From the opposite direction, a rosebush trimmed in the likeness of a small troll ran by. The rose troll’s arm thickened into a club spiked with thorns. It cornered a student, but the spellcaster in training had set a trap. Three more Turnbuckle pupils jumped out from a nearby hedge with wands at the ready.

  “From green to brown, drop that spiked club to the ground!” one of the wizards incanted.

  The rose troll’s arm shriveled up, and the prickly club at the end snapped off, dropping to the grass.

  “Go,” Aldwyn shouted.

  Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert sprinted along the edge of the chaos. Despite their attempts to stay out of danger, the rose troll kept coming toward them.

  Students were calling out to one another, trying to organize a plan of attack. The topiaries were far less strategic, but relentless. A Turnbuckle instructor calmly oversaw the exercise, offering tips to those engaged in the battle.

  “Defenses up,” she ordered a young wizard who looked overwhelmed. “Best to work together,” she suggested to a pair of spellcasters fighting separately. “Stay away from spells with flames,” she said to a pupil whose wand was sparking. “It may defeat the topiary, but you don’t want to get yourself caught in a forest fire.”

  Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert continued ahead.

  “We need to find the library,” Skylar said.

  Aldwyn looked to the brick buildings. Each one had a gargoyle sitting atop its roof grasping something in its stone hand: a sword, a fork and knife, a scroll, and an hourglass. It seemed safe to assume that these objects represented what each building was used for.

  “The library must be in the building with the scroll,” Aldwyn said.

  “Even I could have figured that out,” Gilbert said.

  The Three moved quickly the rest of the way. Students were busy coming and going through the front doors. Again, Aldwyn made sure their loyals weren’t among them. With all the familiars walking and flying about, it was surprisingly easy for Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert to slip inside undetected. Unlike the building’s drab exterior, the entrance hall was vibrant with rich cherrywood floors underfoot and floating chandeliers overhead.

  “We’re looking for a special room,” Skylar said to Aldwyn and Gilbert. “One big enough to store all of Kalstaff’s things.”

  The familiars traveled down the main hallway, peeking through every open door. Through the first, they saw young wizards and familiars inside a laboratory, dropping mud lizards into glass beakers.

  “Now who here is willing to amputate a finger?” the instructor asked. “It’s the only way to see if your regeneration potions actually worked.”

  Aldwyn and his companions couldn’t stop, but they glanced inside the next classroom, where there were just a half-dozen spellcasters and a teacher. The students sat beside their own personal rectangular rugs, each with a swirling pattern spiraling on the surface.

  “A dreaming rug is a mere portal to the Dreamworld,” the teacher said. “It doesn’t provide you with any protection or guarantees of coming back. Once you arrive on the other side, the rules of Vastia disappear. Even something as simple as a short stroll can prove a challenge for the most daring wizard.”

  As Aldwyn turned away from the door, three recognizable faces were coming their way. It was Jack, Marianne, and Dalton! They were busy chatting among themselves and hadn’t yet spied the familiars.

  “I had no idea there were so many kinds of gundabeasts,” Jack said.

  “Who knew some lived in trees?” Marianne asked.

  “Skylar, Gilbert . . .” Aldwyn whispered urgently.

  But it was clear they had spotted their loyals, too. All three darted for the nearest doorway and entered before they were exposed. Once Jack, Marianne, and Dalton had passed, the familiars were about to return to the hall, when the classroom’s instructor called out, “Ah, so our subject has arrived. I would have expected a lizard or mouse, but a tree frog will do.”

  Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert slowly turned around. They were inside what looked like a science lab, filled with animal and human skeletons and anatomy charts. There were cages on the floor with barking lizards and mice that had grown dog fur.

  “Up, up, here you go,” the instructor said, ushering Gilbert to one of the experimentation tables.

  Gilbert backed away, reluctant.

  “Come on, Gilbert, play along,” Skylar said under her breath. “Let’s not call any undue attention to ourselves. That was a close enough call as it was.”

  The tree frog sighed and took his place before the class.

  “All right, who’s ready to try a full canine transformation spell?” the instructor asked. “We’ve succeeded in vocal metamorphosis and hair transfer. Anyone want to bring it all together?”

  A shy girl who looked even younger than Jack stepped forward timidly.

  “I think I can do it,” she said.

  “You?” another student asked incredulously. “You tried to turn a watermelon into a squash and blew it up!”

  “I’ve been practicing,” she replied.

  “Since last night?” the student asked.

  “Now, now,” the instructor interrupted. “You can’t learn if you don’t try.”

  The girl walked up to Gilbert’s side. Gilbert looked so nervous Aldwyn thought his friend might pass out.

  “Think about the words you’re going to speak before you utter them,” the instructor said. “And remember to enunciate.”

  The young spellcaster cleared her throat.

  “Maybe someone else can volunteer,” Gilbert began to croak, but it was too late.

  “Setting moon, snout of hog, turn this frog into a dog!” the girl incanted. She gave a little wave of her arm and shut her eyes.

  Everyone waited. None more anxiously than Gilbert. But nothing happened.

  “Well, good try,” Gilbert said. “Guess you won’t be needing me anymore.”

  Gilbert hopped down from the table, but all eyes in the room were staring at him.

  “Uh, Gilbert,” Aldwyn said. “You’ve got paws.”

  The tree frog looked down and saw that furry pads had formed where his webbed feet once were. And that wasn’t all. His entire body grew bigger, and it was soon covered in a thick brown pelt. Whiskers popped out from his face, and a bushy tail sprouted from his behind. The next time he opened his mouth, all that came out was a bark.

  “Wonderful,” the instructor said. “You’ve done it.”

  He patted the young girl on the back. She sent a boastful smile in the direction of her disbelieving classmate then took her seat.

  “If you wouldn’t mind taking him down to the reversary, they’ll change him back to his old self,” the instructor said to Aldwyn and Skylar. “It’s natural for him to be in a bit of shock.”

  Gilbert barked pitifully. He seemed to have an itch behind his ear, and as hard as he tried, his tongue wouldn’t reach it. He attempted to lift a paw but was hopeless.

  Aldwyn and Skylar quickly guided their unrecognizable companion out the door and the Three were again on the move.

  “Obviously we can’t take you to that reversary,” Skylar said to Gilbert. “We can’t risk running into our loyals again. But it should wear off eventually. I think.”

  Gilbert let out a disappointed groan.

  “Besides, your little disguise might come in handy,” Aldwyn said.

  Gilbert was trying to say something, but his big lips and tongue didn’t want to cooperate. All he managed to mutter was incomprehensible gibberish.

  “It’s probably better that we can’t understand him,” Aldwyn said to Skylar. “He doesn’t seem very happy.”

  After peering inside another half-dozen rooms, they finally found the Academy’s library. They entered and began wandering past long wooden tables filled with students engaging in quiet study.

&nb
sp; “These are all common scrolls and tomes,” Skylar said, gesturing to the walls. “The rare collections will be stored privately. Look for any doors to a back room.”

  They didn’t have to search for long, though. The words “Special Archive” were etched into a glass door behind the librarian’s desk. Beyond it, Aldwyn caught sight of a cavernous room housing artifacts and scroll tubes. He noticed the scuffed chain-mail robes and twin swords worn and wielded by Kalstaff in his younger years.

  “Kalstaff’s stuff,” Aldwyn said. “It’s really here.”

  Fortunately the librarian was assisting a student examining some globes well out of their view. Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert hurried past the desk and sneaked into the archive. The first thing Aldwyn took note of was the temperature. It was colder here than in the library, which made sense, given the delicacy of all the papers stored within. To preserve them, a controlled climate would be ideal, and it seemed some kind of spell was providing that.

  No one else was in the room save for the familiars, and besides the keepsakes from Kalstaff’s cellar there were relics that once belonged to many of Vastia’s other legendary wizards. One section was dedicated to the original familiar encyclopedias written by Phineus Pharkum. Another to Orachnis Protho’s hand-drawn blueprints and prototypes for some of his earliest magical inventions.

  Aldwyn’s gaze returned to the robes and swords of their former mentor, alongside Kalstaff’s other possessions of note. They were all labeled and mounted to allow for study. There was just one thing that Aldwyn noticed was missing, and he was not disappointed to see it absent: Yajmada’s armor. His hair stood on end just thinking about the bone-hued helmet that had radiated pure evil. Back when Aldwyn had first seen it in Kalstaff’s cellar, the armor seemed to be possessed by a ghostly presence.

  Skylar had found Kalstaff’s journals and was already flipping them open in search of the page labeled “The Spells of Somnibus Everwake.” Aldwyn and Gilbert ran over to help scan through the stack of journals, but Gilbert’s newly sprouted dog paws clumsily fumbled through the pages, nearly tearing them clean off.

  “Gilbert, maybe you should just guard the door,” Skylar suggested.

  He attempted to respond but slobbered instead.

  Aldwyn lifted another pile of journals from a high shelf with his mind and stacked them up on the floor. He looked inside each one, hoping to find the antidote to the parasitic poison slowly drawing Queen Loranella closer to death.

  After a couple of trying minutes that felt like hours, Aldwyn saw the words he was looking for.

  “I found it,” he called. “‘The Spells of Somnibus Everwake.’ This is it!”

  Skylar flew over.

  “There must be an index,” she said.

  She turned to the last pages and sought out the entry reading “Parasitic Poisons: Remedies, page 262.”

  Skylar’s feathertips moved quickly, skipping back over large chunks of the book. Page 516 . . . 434 . . . 357 . . . 252 . . . She’d gone too far. The anticipation was taking its toll. Skylar slowed down: 260 . . . 263.

  Wait. How was that possible? Aldwyn didn’t understand. Skylar doubled back. Then turned the page again. In between, there were only jagged edges of torn paper. The evidence left little doubt. Page 262 was missing.

  The spell they were looking for had been ripped out.

  12

  ANOTHER WAY

  “It’s gone,” Aldwyn said.

  “I can see that,” Skylar replied.

  Gilbert chimed in with an angry growl.

  “Whoever’s behind all this has beaten us here, too,” Aldwyn said. “Now we’ll have no way to pull Loranella from the Wander.”

  “This was the last remaining record of an antidote,” Skylar said. “And the only person still breathing who can tell us how to re-create it is the very victim of the poison itself.”

  “Remember those dreams I’ve been telling you about?” Aldwyn said. “The ones with Queen Loranella. I keep thinking there was a message she was trying to send me. But I’m still not sure what it was.”

  All of a sudden Gilbert began barking. He trotted over to them, tail wagging.

  “What is it, Gilbert?” Skylar asked.

  He tried again to speak but still couldn’t form the words. Frustrated, he started to pantomime instead, lying down on the floor and snoring.

  “Gilbert, we’re all tired,” Skylar said. “But now isn’t the time for a nap.”

  Gilbert shook his head and made another attempt. This time he walked over to one of the library’s small rugs and began scratching at it.

  “I don’t understand,” Aldwyn said. “Are you digging for something?”

  Gilbert smacked a paw against his head and gave up.

  “I just wish we could wake Loranella up for a minute, or she could talk in her sleep,” Aldwyn said. “Something so she could tell us how to fix this.”

  Skylar clapped her wings together.

  “That’s it,” she said. “I think there’s a way she can talk to us in her sleep. In the Dreamworld! We can use those dreaming rugs we saw in the classroom and go to her.”

  “Skylar, you’re a genius,” Aldwyn exclaimed.

  Gilbert was frantically looking from Aldwyn to Skylar, then to the small rug he had been scratching. Then he pantomimed sleep and snoring just as he had done moments before.

  “For goodness’ sake, Gilbert,” Skylar said, “if you’re really that exhausted, just lie down for a minute. You don’t have to make such a big fuss about it.”

  Gilbert drooped his head back into his paws.

  “Could that really work?” Aldwyn asked Skylar.

  “It could work, but it won’t be easy. And to be perfectly honest, the Dreamworld’s not a place I know very much about. Only that it’s more dangerous than anywhere we’ve been before.” Skylar and Aldwyn shared a look of resolve. “We’ll have to get a dreaming rug of our own, and learn how to use it.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Aldwyn asked.

  “There must be some kind of manual or guidebook in the library,” Skylar said. “Although I’m not really certain we have time to look for it.”

  “I have another idea,” Aldwyn said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  “I’m not liking a whole lot about any of this,” Skylar replied.

  The Three headed back for the glass door and made sure no one was in sight before sneaking out. They raced through the library and quickly returned to the Academy’s corridors. After making their way back down the hall, they stopped in front of the smaller classroom where the teacher had been instructing her students about the Dreamworld. Only five young wizards were inside now. Some had cuts and bruises. One had claw marks across his forehead, with the blood still fresh and dripping, but instead of getting help they were staring at their missing classmate’s dreaming rug.

  “Another minute,” the teacher said. “Then I’ll go in myself.”

  The pattern at the center of one of the rectangular rugs started swirling and a hand reached out. The teacher quickly grabbed the hand and pulled the girl from the rug.

  “I took just one step off the path you mapped out for me,” the student muttered, nearly delirious.

  “Consider yourself lucky you returned at all,” the teacher said. “Embeth, be a dear and take Daphne down to the infirmary. The rest of you are dismissed.”

  Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert ducked around the corner and waited for the students to depart before they slipped through the open door. The teacher was wiping the day’s lesson plan from a slate.

  “Familiars,” she said upon spotting them, “where are your loyals?”

  Aldwyn telekinetically slammed the door shut, then turned to the chair at the teacher’s desk. He dragged it up behind her and mentally pushed her into it.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she asked.

  “I’m very sorry,” Aldwyn replied. “But this is a matter of life or death for Queen Loranella. We can’t even be certain she’ll make i
t through the night.”

  He tore a curtain from the window and used it to telekinetically bind the teacher’s wrists and ankles to the chair.

  “This was your idea?” Skylar asked Aldwyn. “Kidnapping the instructor?”

  “I told you you wouldn’t like it,” Aldwyn said.

  The teacher struggled but couldn’t wriggle free or reach the wand sitting atop her desk.

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” Aldwyn assured her. “We just need your help.”

  “Now I recognize you,” she said. “You’re Aldwyn and Skylar.” Then her attention turned to Gilbert. “Actually, I’m not sure who you are.”

  Gilbert gave a frustrated yip.

  “My next class starts in a few minutes,” the teacher said. “They’ll catch you.”

  “Then we’d better be quick,” Skylar said. “We have to speak to Loranella, and we believe she can be contacted in the Dreamworld. Tell us everything we need to know. How to get in, how to get out . . . and how to avoid the dangers once we’re inside.”

  “It takes years of practice to navigate such a world,” the teacher replied. “The place our minds go when we sleep is unpredictable and ever changing. A locale you visit one minute might not be there the next. And the pathways between them never lead you in straight lines. They go every which way.”

  “Why don’t you start with the basics?” Aldwyn asked. “How do those dreaming rugs work?”

  “All you need to do is lie down on one and close your eyes, and it will transport you to the land of dreams. But never forget, a physical visit is not the same as one you make while sleeping. Unlike a trip taken by your subconscious, traveling through a dreaming rug leaves you vulnerable to all the hazards the world has to offer.”

  “And once we’ve found the queen and gotten the answers we need,” Skylar said, “how do we get out?”

  “You must take a thread from your rug and pull it behind you,” the teacher said. “You can never lose it, though, for it will be the only way to find your way back.”