The Familiars #3: Circle of Heroes

by Adam Jay Epstein

  Aldwyn thought he saw fluttering figures out of the corners of his eyes, but every time he turned to look at them, they disappeared. Evidently what Orion had said was true: there were things all around that lurked just beyond their view.

  Suddenly, Orion came to a screeching halt, his hooves grinding in the dirt before him. Aldwyn looked down to see what had caused the stallion’s unexpected stop. There in the middle of the trail was a small mouse—a small mouse with a horn sticking out from its head.

  “Please, help,” cried the unimouse. Aldwyn remembered seeing an animal like this in the familiar shop in Bridgetower. “Many have been injured in my village. We had hoped to go unnoticed here among the forest’s protective spells, but the hare’s minions found us. Wolverine enforcers from Paksahara’s animal army came to recruit soldiers from our village. We refused their demands, and we paid dearly for it.”

  “Did you say wolverine enforcers?” asked Aldwyn.

  “Yes,” replied the unimouse. “We tried to fend them off with hexes, but our lack of black lichen meant we didn’t stand a chance against them.”

  “When did this happen?” Simeon asked the unimouse.

  “Less than an hour ago.”

  “Do you have any idea where the wolverines were headed next?” asked the bloodhound. Clearly, Simeon had had the same thought as Aldwyn: to intercept the wolverines now and collect the needed descendant from their ranks.

  “I’m afraid not,” said the unimouse.

  “Did they leave anything behind?” asked Aldwyn. “Anything that might give us a clue?”

  “I don’t know,” said the unimouse. “You’re welcome to take a look around if you like.”

  The little creature led Orion off the path, and no more than ten yards away, an entire community of mice appeared before them. Dozens were lying on the ground, some cut and bruised, others with their horns snapped off.

  “Aldwyn, see if you can find anything,” said Skylar. “Perhaps I can cast some healing spells. I’m no raven, but I’ll try my best.”

  “I’m a bit rusty, but I can try my hand at a few, too,” said Banshee.

  Skylar and Banshee began their casting and succeeded in closing the unimice’s wounds, but unlike a raven, who could reverse any injury, the bird and the monkey could provide merely temporary relief.

  A weakened mouse who had lost a horn approached Aldwyn.

  “Maybe this will help,” she said, holding up her detached horn. On closer inspection Aldwyn could see a tangle of wolverine hair wrapped around the tip.

  “Skylar, you should come see this,” said Aldwyn.

  Banshee continued to tend to the wounded, allowing Skylar to fly over. She examined the tuft of hair, then removed the Olfax tracking snout from her satchel. The disembodied wolf’s nose immediately sprang to life, hungrily sniffing the hair. It began to snort and lunge itself toward the south, but was held back by the gold chain it was attached to.

  “Looks like they went that way,” said Skylar. “We’re all thinking the same thing, aren’t we?”

  “That we should steer clear of these wolverines? Yep,” said Gilbert. “They are bad news.”

  “No, that we go and capture one now,” said Skylar.

  “Whoa, wait a second,” said the tree frog. “I thought we were avoiding them until the very end. Save the worst for last.”

  “We always knew we’d have to do it sooner or later,” said Aldwyn. “We’ll use the snout to find them, and once we see what we’re up against, we can figure out what to do.”

  “What happened to going to the Abyssmal Canyon?” asked Gilbert. “Rounding up a mongoose and a king cobra. Two descendants for the price of one.”

  But the others ignored him, and before Gilbert could complain about the unfairness of the majority rule yet again, Banshee, who had done what she could to help the injured, rejoined the group. The unimouse who had sought their help stood before them.

  “You are the Prophesized Three,” he said to Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert. “Go. Stop that wretched villain Paksahara before it’s too late.”

  The familiars climbed onto Orion’s back with Banshee. Simeon led the way and off they went. The lightmare hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Aldwyn turned to wave farewell to the unimouse village—but it had disappeared in a flurry of leaves, hidden by the forest once more.

  Now, as they charged ahead, Orion was not the only one leading the familiars forward. So, too, was the Olfax tracking snout.

  The animals had entered a darker, thornier region where the trees had grown so close that it was difficult for Orion to travel between them. The stallion was moving stealthily now through the midday shadows, no longer thundering across the ground but stepping lightly so as not to tip off the supersensed wolverines they were hunting. The snout was sniffing frantically; if it had still been attached to a face with a mouth, it surely would have been growling. They had to be close.

  Orion came to a stop and Banshee, who had volunteered to spy ahead, jumped to the ground. She coated herself in forest berries and crushed leaves to hide her scent from the wolverines. Then she turned herself invisible and disappeared.

  Aldwyn and the others waited quietly. Every time Gilbert was about to break the uncomfortable silence, Skylar lifted a feather to his lips. Just a few minutes passed, but it felt like an hour, before Banshee reappeared. Aldwyn hadn’t even heard a rustling in the trees.

  “There are five of them, just over that wooded ridge,” said the howler monkey. “The one who appears to be their leader is skinnier and leaner than the rest.”

  Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert looked at one another. They all knew who that description matched: Lothar, the leader of the wolverine enforcers. They had encountered him at the Nearhurst Aviary. Like with the unimice, the wolverine enforcers had been trying to recruit Skylar’s family and the other illusion-casting birds of the Aviary into Paksahara’s army. With a shiver, Aldwyn recalled Lothar’s bloodstained teeth and the double hex branded into the bottom of his paw.

  “Do you think you could take them?” Banshee asked Orion.

  “With your help, absolutely,” answered the lightmare. “But I can’t promise that there won’t be injuries, or maybe even casualties.”

  “I’m okay with a few of the wolverines getting hurt or worse,” said Gilbert.

  “I was talking about us,” said Orion.

  “Like I was saying, we can still head straight for the Abyssmal Canyon,” said Gilbert.

  Skylar seemed lost in thought before her eyes lit up. Aldwyn took a relieved breath, knowing the blue jay had come up with a plan. After she explained the details, everyone agreed that it was their best chance at a successful kidnapping.

  With no time to waste, the group split up, and Aldwyn moved to the wooded ridge to serve as a lookout. From there he could see the wolverines gathered down below, feasting on the carcass of a no-longer-identifiable animal. Two were fighting over a leg bone.

  “Hey, that’s mine,” Aldwyn could hear one say.

  “I brought down the kill,” replied the other.

  “I’ll settle this,” snarled a third, all-too-recognizable, voice. Lothar pushed the two other wolverines aside and grabbed the juicy bone for himself.

  Just then a stallion made of translucent green energy appeared in the sky, and riding it was a gray hare, who looked unmistakably like Paksahara.

  As the flying stallion landed before the wolverines, Lothar dropped the bone from his mouth and bowed down low.

  “I did not smell your approach, my gray lord,” he said.

  “Hiding my whereabouts has become of the utmost importance,” replied Paksahara. “Even from you.”

  Lothar rose back to his feet.

  “And to what do we owe this unexpected visit?” he asked. “We have successfully recruited the High Plains mountain goats and the wall-crawling dingoes. Unfortunately, the unimice chose a different path. Unfortunately for them, at least.”

  The other wolverines sniggered.

&n
bsp; “Well done, Lothar. I knew I could rely on you. Now walk with me—important developments are afoot.”

  Aldwyn watched as the hare led her trusted enforcer away from his soldiers and into a ravine. He could still see them, and his ears perked up as he tried to catch what was being said.

  “We’re putting recruitment on hold,” said Paksahara. “Your focus now needs to be on killing the Prophesized Three and the descendants they’ve already gathered.”

  The hare opened her paw and Aldwyn could see a cat hair, a blue jay’s feather, and a tuft of monkey fur.

  “I thought I had sensed the presence of these animals in our midst,” said Lothar, who seemed to be trying to impress Paksahara.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Aldwyn spied Gilbert in a neighboring tree, giving a wave. Then Aldwyn glanced at Lothar’s soldiers, who were still devouring their kill. He used his telekinesis to snap a dry branch and send it crashing into the shrubs on the other side of the pack, far from Lothar and Paksahara. The wolverines immediately jumped to attention, then stalked off to see what had caused the disturbance.

  Aldwyn looked over to Lothar, who had also heard the noise. He briefly turned his back to Paksahara to investigate the commotion. But before he had taken as much as a step, an invisible Banshee bashed him across the head with her drum. The wolverine stumbled, but didn’t fall. He turned around, but Paksahara and her spectral steed, who of course had been nothing but Skylar’s clever illusion, had vanished. For a split second, Lothar was confused—just long enough for Orion to come galloping in, kick up his hind legs, and knock the wolverine senseless.

  Skylar soared down from the trees and tossed Grimslade’s Mobius pouch to the invisible Banshee. The howler monkey materialized and removed the dispeller chain from the bag. Moving quickly before Lothar came to, she clamped the chain around his neck.

  Aldwyn, still on lookout atop the ridge, saw that the other wolverines were returning. He ran down into the ravine, shouting, “They’re coming back already. We need to go now.”

  Orion jostled Lothar awake. “You’re going to want to keep up behind me.”

  The lightmare took one end of the dispeller chain with his teeth. Aldwyn, Skylar, Gilbert, and Banshee leaped onto the horse’s back, while Simeon hurried alongside them.

  The captured wolverine dug his heels into the dirt to slow Orion’s escape.

  “Wolverines!” he called out. “I’m being taken!”

  Aldwyn turned to see the rest of Lothar’s pack burst out from the trees, snarling and drooling. Aldwyn telekinetically lifted four of Grimslade’s traps from the open Mobius pouch and flung them into the path of the charging wolverines. Two of the coils missed their targets, but the other two clamped shut around the rabid pursuers’ ankles, causing two of them to go tumbling face-first into the ground.

  The two wolverines still in pursuit gave an extra burst of speed, and one lunged forward, biting down on the chain wrapped around Lothar’s neck. His fangs shattered on contact, no match for the enchanted steel that had been forged by the cave shamans of Stalagmos. With a loud groan, the beast went somersaulting backward.

  Now only one of Lothar’s enforcers remained. Orion was racing for a patch of forest dryweed.

  “Simeon, sprint ahead,” said Orion.

  As soon as the lightmare saw the bloodhound was safely away, he rubbed his back hooves together like flint and steel, creating a spark that lit up the dryweed. Lothar was quickly pulled through, but his soldier was not so lucky. Aldwyn looked back and could no longer see any of the wolverines through the wall of smoke and flame, but he could hear them, coughing and wailing in anger at having let these animals escape with their leader.

  9

  LOTHAR

  “This is turning out to be great fun,” enthused Banshee. “And here I thought I needed a wizard to go on an incredible quest.”

  She jumped off Orion’s back with vigor and headed over to splash in a stream that was running along beside their path. The other animals joined her to refresh themselves as well.

  “I learned a long time ago that animals are quite capable enough on their own,” said Orion.

  “I, for one, still believe my true calling is and has always been at the side of my loyal,” replied Simeon.

  “How did you find me?” asked Lothar.

  “The unimice told us how you had attacked their village,” said Aldwyn.

  “So that’s how they repay me for letting them live? I should have slaughtered every last one of them. They would have made a nice snack.”

  “Enough,” said Orion. “You should be on our side. Standing beside all those animals who believe in a peaceful future.”

  Lothar’s lip curled, almost as if he was amused.

  “It’s fitting that you would have me shackled, seeing as how you all fight against Paksahara’s stand for animal freedom.”

  “That is hardly what Paksahara stands for,” said Skylar.

  “Isn’t it, though?” asked Lothar. “All she wants is a Vastia where animals can achieve the greatness that they hold within. Something man has kept from us for far too long.”

  “And killing innocents is an acceptable means to such an end?” asked Simeon.

  “Your humble obedience has left you blind, old dog,” replied Lothar. “What do you suggest? Standing by idly for another hundred years of enslavement?”

  “You know, man and animal can live peacefully side by side,” said Gilbert. “Take our loyals. Marianne and I always help each other out. Or look at Skylar and Dalton. They’re like best friends.”

  “These boys and girls you call loyals are the farthest thing from what their name implies,” said Lothar. “They use you. You’re nothing more than assistants, there to serve them. And if they had to choose between a fellow human and you, I assure you it wouldn’t be much of a choice at all.”

  “You spit out words, but they are little more than hate,” interrupted Orion. “You will stand in the circle and do what is needed.”

  Orion walked Lothar over to the tiny stream.

  “Drink. You’ll need your strength to keep up with me.”

  Lothar bent his head down and lapped up a mouthful of water.

  Everybody made sure to keep a good distance from him; only Skylar was hovering in the air close by. Thinking himself unobserved, the wolverine, water dripping from his chin, leaned over and whispered to Skylar—but Aldwyn was able to overhear.

  “I see the look in your eyes, bird,” Lothar said quietly. “Your friends can’t see the truth. But you can.”

  Skylar stared at him for a moment, as if considering his words, before turning away. Aldwyn felt an elbow to his side and saw Gilbert pressing his face up to him.

  “Did you see that?” croaked the tree frog. “You don’t think she’d turn on us, do you? My puddle viewing. What if it is true?”

  “Relax, Gilbert,” said Aldwyn. “She’s on our side.”

  But as he watched the blue jay fly ahead, he wasn’t so sure himself anymore.

  “We should get to the Abyssmal Canyon by nightfall,” said Skylar. “And once we collect the mongoose and king cobra, all we’ll need is a golden toad to complete our quest.”

  Sundown was already approaching, and the group was halfway across the Brannfalk Pass, a wide, mud-caked road that snaked toward lush green hills in the distance.

  Aldwyn, Gilbert, and Banshee were walking on the ground with Simeon. It felt good. Riding bareback on a horse for hours on end had left them all in need of a good stretch.

  Aldwyn looked down to see a grasshopper jumping from one blade of grass to the next. The tiny insect appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had engulfed the land. Aldwyn envied its simple existence, a life ignorant of the Dead Army marching across Vastia, free from fear of Paksahara’s tyrannical rule. The grasshopper leaped up onto Aldwyn’s shoulder; for a moment Aldwyn wished to switch places with it. It would be so easy to live without the pressure of having to save the queendom. To think that this green, long-legged
little fellow would spend its days here amid the flower and brush. Blissful afternoons, peaceful nigh—

  Slurp.

  Gilbert’s tongue lashed out and snagged the grasshopper.

  “Saltier than I expected,” said the tree frog, chewing thoughtfully.

  “One’s place in the world can change in an instant,” said the bloodhound. “One moment you’re living free, the next you’re lunch.”

  “Or in my case, one moment you’re an alley cat living on the streets, the next you’re one of the Prophesized Three.”

  “I don’t hear the confidence in your voice that I would expect from one chosen by the stars.” Simeon stared ahead, but Aldwyn felt as if he was looking into his soul.

  Aldwyn made sure that Skylar and Gilbert were walking out of earshot before speaking again.

  “If I tell you something, do you promise to keep it between the two of us?” he asked.

  “Of course,” replied Simeon.

  “Before we started to collect the seven descendants, I read something in one of Kalstaff’s diaries. Something that has called into question everything I believed.”

  “My brother often told me how wise his loyal was,” said Simeon. “What did it say?”

  “Not all prophecies come true.”

  Aldwyn was expecting Simeon to immediately object—to say it wasn’t so—but instead a concerned look appeared on the bloodhound’s face.

  “I haven’t told anyone yet,” continued Aldwyn. “We need everyone to have faith that all will go well on this mission. To cast doubt would put us all in danger.”

  “And you really worry that this prophecy may be false?” The bloodhound’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.

  “When I was chosen by Jack to be his familiar, it was a fluke, an accident. If I hadn’t jumped into the store’s window at the moment I did, he would have picked someone else.”