“It may just be a two-bit parlor trick, but sleight of hand does have its benefits,” said Galleon.
Coriander touched a hand to his chest and realized that he had been stripped of his prized trophy. Galleon uncorked the vial, and the smoke immediately left the tiny glass container and snaked its way into his mouth and nostrils.
Everybody held their breath. Had it worked? Did Galleon have his magic back?
The wizard raised his palm and chanted, “Danadium bendis!”
The scimitar Coriander was still gripping bent and folded in on itself, turning into a useless lump of metal.
Galleon turned to the bed: “Quipus animatum!”
With a flick of his hand the sheets ripped out from beneath Delilah and twisted into a lasso, binding Coriander by his wrists and ankles. The villain struggled to break free.
“You’re going to strike a bound man?” asked Coriander. “Not very sporting of you.”
“Me? Oh no,” said Galleon. “I always play fair. I’m going to leave you right here on your precious yacht. Just one more thing. Nocturno infurious!”
He conjured up a flame fairy, but unlike the small ones used to keep a campsite warm, this one was three feet tall and looking like a rabid beast. It shot down to the floor and burned a hole so deep that water started leaking in from two decks below. Aldwyn could hear a loud hiss when the flame fairy came into contact with the water.
“Hope you know how to swim,” said Galleon. “Release!”
The bedsheets loosened enough for Coriander to be able to wriggle himself free. Water began rushing into the boat.
“My yacht!” screamed Coriander. “Do you have any idea the fortune this cost?”
“You can always get a job as a chambermaid,” said Galleon. “I hear there’s a position opening up.”
Galleon took Delilah by the hand. Leaving Coriander to his fate, they all ran into the hallway. The boat was already starting to tip from the fast accumulating river water.
A grand staircase led to doors above. Elvin pirates gave chase, but Galleon blasted them aside with swirling wind blasts. They reached the main deck to find crewmen and elvin pirates in a state of complete panic. Some were fighting over the limited number of seats in the life boat while others were jumping overboard. As Galleon, Delilah, and the animals ran for the back of the yacht, the stern was sinking fast.
They started to descend the ladder, and Aldwyn could see Navid and Marati in the dinghy below fighting off the fleeing elvin pirates. Marati’s astral claws and Navid’s venom blasts were doing the job, but the force of the ship going under was creating whirlpools around the dinghy.
“Hurry up!” shouted Navid.
The animals and the two humans made their way into the boat. There was no need to even climb down the ladder, as the boat’s top deck was level with the dinghy. Aldwyn could see Coriander standing there, his legs already submerged.
Galleon flicked his finger and intoned the words “phasma vela.” A big phantom sail appeared and caught the wind, allowing the dinghy to speed away.
“It’s good to have you back,” said Banshee.
“It’s good to be back,” said Galleon as he embraced his familiar.
Aldwyn watched as the two stood together, reunited at last. Although he had been apart from Jack for so much of the short time they had known each other, he had already come to appreciate how deep the lifelong bond between loyal and familiar could truly be.
16
A DESTINY MADE
The phantom sail carried the dinghy all the way to the shore and halfway up its muddy banks. Orion and Simeon were waiting exactly where they had been left. Galleon stepped out of the boat first in order to give a hand to Delilah. The familiars and descendants followed behind them.
“Go to the Inn of the Golden Chalice,” Galleon told Delilah. “Take this key and wait for me there. I’ll come get you when this is all over.”
She nodded and looked into his eyes.
“We need to get moving,” interrupted Banshee. “You two are going to have to save the swooning for later. For all we know, that third glyphstone is under attack as we speak. If it is destroyed, there will be no way to summon the Shifting Fortress.”
Galleon reached out and entwined his fingers with Delilah’s. The two shared a sweet smile, then the girl ran up the winding road that hugged the river and disappeared into the fog.
Once again, everybody climbed onto Orion’s back; Aldwyn couldn’t help but notice how crowded it had become. Simeon, who until now had been running alongside the horse, was encouraged by Galleon to join the others.
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to keep up down there,” he said.
With everyone safely perched on Orion’s back, Galleon incanted, “Longicaudum.” Then he shouted, “Onward, Orion!”
As the stallion began to gallop, his legs moved so rapidly they became a blur. His hooves were no longer sparking because they no longer even touched the ground.
“A swift step spell,” said Gilbert. “I’m not going to lie. It’s nice to have the skills of a human wizard back on our side.”
And it most certainly was. A trip that would otherwise have taken half a day’s time went by in a breeze. Orion ran along the riverbank, the water rushing by on one side, the trees on the other. Partway through their journey to Bronzhaven they crossed the Enaj but had no need to stop for a ferry or go searching for a bridge: Galleon only had to raise a hand, and the water solidified into stone, allowing them easy passage.
Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert sat huddled together just behind Galleon. Gilbert leaned in close to his two friends. He looked at Skylar.
“There’s something I have to confess,” he said. “I had a puddle viewing in the stream outside the Gloom Hills.”
“I’m glad you got that off your chest, Gilbert,” said Skylar.
“I’m not finished,” said the tree frog. “You were in the vision. You cast a spell. A crimson spear of energy came out of your wing tips.” Gilbert paused for a moment. “It blasted a hole straight through me.”
“What?” asked a shocked Skylar. “There must have been some mistake. You don’t actually think …”
“I did,” said Gilbert. “And now I feel guilty for even having considered it.”
“I would never hurt you. You’re my best friend.”
“I know. That’s why I feel so terrible.” Gilbert paused before continuing. “Sure, every one of my viewings has come true so far, but I choose to believe that this one won’t. Maybe the puddles can be wrong.”
There it was again: the way fate could be uncertain. Aldwyn was still wrestling with his own destiny and it seemed Gilbert was, too. The only difference was that Gilbert was convinced that his vision of being killed by Skylar would be proved wrong, while Aldwyn was not at all convinced that the prophecy that he’d save Vastia would be proved right.
“Gilbert, I will always stand at your side, and never willingly bring any harm to you,” said Skylar. “Unless you continue to make me suffer through your poetry.”
“Well, then, I guess you won’t be hearing the epic poem I wrote in your honor,” said Gilbert.
“Okay,” sighed Skylar. “Just this one exception.”
“Really?” exclaimed Gilbert. “All seventy-six verses?”
Orion was racing across the lush green fields north of the Brannfalk Pass. A herd of emerald-hued sheep was stampeding past them, heading in the opposite direction.
“They seem terrified,” said Marati.
“And why shouldn’t they be?” asked Navid. “They’re running from the Dead Army. Look!”
They came up over the next hill, and before them they could see that an epic battle was being waged in the fields outside Bronzhaven. On one side were the magic-less wizards and other humans fighting for the survival of Vastia; on the other, Paksahara’s zombies, who were bent on destroying it.
Orion charged down the ridge and Aldwyn was the first to spot it. Pointing his paw to an area before the bronze
gate where the combatants were most densely clustered, he said, “There it is. The third glyphstone.”
He was flooded with relief that it hadn’t fallen yet. There was only one problem: How would they possibly be able to get there alive?
“We should stop here,” said Skylar, “before we draw any attention to ourselves.” She lifted her wing and cast an illusion of a large tree for them to hide behind. Now they could survey the scene below without fear of being spotted.
Aldwyn tried to get a clearer picture of what lay between them and the glyphstone. They would have to pass through thousands of brain-plucked zombies: skeletal elephants and jackals, decomposing bears, the rotting great cats of Chordata, and waves of undead rams led by fleshless long-horned elks. Fighting with them were the living animal tribes Paksahara had recruited. Aldwyn spotted the warthogs he and his familiar companions had encountered in the Beyond, with their extra-long and sharp tusks. There was an entire slither of firescale snakes. High Plains mountain goats, wall-crawling dingoes, and, of course, wolverines. Chained gundabeasts were being led into the fray by cave shamans. There were opponents in the air as well. Spyballs filled the sky, covering the entire battlefield so no enemy of Paksahara could plot any surprises. Circling even higher, just below the clouds, were bone vultures, who came for only one purpose: to feed on the dead.
“Any ideas on how we might get to that glyphstone?” asked Gilbert.
“Let me at them,” said Marati. “My astral claws will take down hundreds of those beasts.”
“Not as many as my venom blasts,” said Navid.
“I don’t doubt either of your talents,” said Simeon, “but the risk of losing one of you in battle is too great. There must be no casualties among us. We are the seven descendants. Every one of us must make it to the glyphstone.”
“Unfortunately a stealth attack appears impossible, too,” said Skylar. “I could cast another illusion, but the wolverines would smell right through it. And any other attempts would be seen by the spyballs.”
“You could just try running,” said Anura. “My luck might be enough to get us there.”
“Sure, for them,” said Gilbert. “But what about you? You said it yourself. Your own luck doesn’t help you. Or me, for that matter.”
“What if we used Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert as decoys?” suggested Banshee. “I mean, technically we don’t need them to summon the Fortress, right?”
“Us? Decoys?” asked Gilbert. “Terrible idea. Next.”
“Even if we were able to cause a diversion,” said Skylar, “how many would we be able to distract? One hundred? Two hundred? There are thousands down there.”
“There’s a spell Kalstaff taught me, called a force wall,” said Galleon. “It’s a variation of a force push, like a magic barrier. If I’m able to shape it into a tunnel, we might be able to run through it all the way to the glyphstone.”
“Sounds like our best option,” said Skylar.
The others nodded. Banshee turned to Galleon.
“Let’s do it,” she said.
Galleon stretched his arms, facing his palms outward, and took on an expression of pure calm. The group watched as a translucent shell materialized on either side of Orion. Galleon’s spell seemed to channel that energy forward, extending the force wall into a tunnel as he’d hoped.
Orion needed no prompting to start galloping forward. The lightmare stayed within the tunnel’s protective shell, leaving the camouflage of Skylar’s illusionary tree behind. They charged forward, through the first battalion of zombies. These were vicious close-range fighters, mostly bears and tigers. But their skeletal claws and teeth could not penetrate Galleon’s tunnel.
Orion galloped through a second wave of Dead Army soldiers. These animals were more adept at jumping and attacking from longer distances. There were gorillas and what appeared to be jaguars and lions—it was hard to tell their species since their fur coating was now gone. The Dead Army didn’t just concentrate their assault on the tunnel from the sides, either; they were coming from above, too. It was a good thing the spell was holding fast. The zombies were so brutal they were tearing each other apart in their mad attempts to break through the tunnel shell.
Their protection continued to extend ahead of them as it disappeared behind. But then a horrifying vision appeared in the sky. The clouds themselves began to reshape into the all-too familiar face of Paksahara. With a voice that sounded like thunder, the evil hare called out to her minions.
“Those animals on the steed must be stopped at once! Direct all your efforts at them.”
The words were still rumbling in the air when every worm-eaten eye and empty socket turned to the galloping horse and its riders. The elephants aimed their tusks at the tunnel and stampeded toward it. Thousands of pounds of zombie might made contact, and the shell showed its first sign of vulnerability.
“This spell isn’t going to hold much longer,” said Galleon.
“I see I’m not the only one who’s building an army of animals,” said the gray cloud Paksahara. “Yours might still have their skin, but flesh and fur will be of no help in this battle.”
“You hide in stained-glass windows and wisps of clouds,” shouted Aldwyn. “But you’ll be meeting us face-to-face soon enough. And when you do, it will be the end of you.”
“Unlikely,” said Paksahara. “Your circle of fools will never bring forth the Shifting Fortress. And as long as it remains hidden, no one will be able to stop me.”
Another coordinated attack of ivory tusks smashed against the tunnel, this time creating a tear. The path before them was no longer protected.
“It’s breaking apart,” cried Gilbert.
“Never fear,” Paksahara called. “Once you’re all dead, I’ll bring you back as zombies and you can fight alongside me. If the bone vultures don’t get you first.”
Orion came to a stop. “The only way we get to that glyphstone now is by fighting,” he said.
Marati readied her claws and Navid bared his fangs, standing upright in strike position. Orion’s hooves began sparking. Aldwyn steadied his mind, preparing to use his telekinesis in any way he could.
The first zombie animal to break through the tear in the protective shell was one of the rams. It was coming at them when suddenly an axe flew through the air and landed with a bone-crunching thud right between the ram’s ears. Aldwyn spun around to see a dozen of Queen Loranella’s royal guardsmen riding up on the lightmares from the Yennep Mountains. The bearded warrior Urbaugh was riding Galatea.
“Follow me,” Urbaugh yelled.
Orion started to gallop after Galatea. But Urbaugh was taking them away from the glyphstone.
“You’re going the wrong way,” shouted Skylar.
“Don’t worry,” said Galatea. “We’ll get you where you need to go.”
Aldwyn wasn’t exactly sure what the leader of the lightmares had in mind: she and the other horses were most definitely galloping farther and farther away from the magic stone.
“Let them run away,” Paksahara shouted, commanding her army from the sky. “Finish what you started. Destroy that pillar!”
The zombies immediately raced toward the glyphstone, making escape easier. Aldwyn’s bewilderment kept growing. Urbaugh and Galatea led them across the field and beyond a grove of trees to an encampment. Tents had been erected around an old broken-down windmill, and it was here that Aldwyn saw that it was not just humans who had united on the side of the queen: animals who had refused to join Paksahara’s cause were present as well. Urbaugh and Galatea brought them to a stop before the largest of the tents.
“I have the Prophesized Three,” Urbaugh called out. “And they have collected all seven of the descendants.”
The flap of the tent was folded back, and none other than Queen Loranella herself stepped out.
“How wonderful,” she said with tears of pride in her eyes. “I knew you would succeed in your quest.”
“We have succeeded in nothing yet,” said Skylar. �
�And if the glyphstone behind us falls, you may as well hand Paksahara the throne.”
Aldwyn was amazed at how calm the queen was. He looked back and could see through the grove of trees that Paksahara’s army had gotten through the final line of soldiers protecting the glyphstone. And the mighty gundabeasts led by the cave shamans were making their way forward to destroy it.
“There must be some way to go back,” said Aldwyn. “We can’t just let the third glyphstone fall.”
But alas, it was too late. All turned upon hearing the thundering roar of the gundabeasts. They watched as the three-eyed creatures barreled ahead to topple the stone pillar. Then Aldwyn saw something miraculous happen. As the fists of the beasts struck, the glyphstone evaporated, dissipating as if it was one of Skylar’s illusions. No funnel of gray ash rose into the sky.
“I don’t understand,” said Gilbert.
Just then a flock of birds—hundreds of them—including two very recognizable blue jays, flew into the center of the camp.
“Mom! Dad!” exclaimed Skylar.
It was the birds from the Nearhurst Aviary. Not only were Skylar’s mom and dad there, but also the nightingale Hepsibah and Skylar’s childhood friend, the cardinal Mason. These were all birds trained in the art of illusion, and the fake glyphstone must have been their cleverest trick yet.
“Wait,” said Skylar. “If the glyphstone wasn’t there, then where is it?”
With a wave of her wing, Hepsibah made the decrepit windmill disappear. The familiars gasped when they saw what actually lay beneath it: the last glyphstone, standing tall, proud, and right before them.
“You need to hurry,” said Queen Loranella. “Paksahara won’t stay fooled for long. She’ll be sending her army here right now.”
The descendants wasted no time. One by one, they took their places in a circle around the pillar. Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert stood with the queen and watched as they assembled: Banshee the howler monkey, Simeon the bloodhound, Orion the lightmare, Marati the white-tailed mongoose, Navid the king cobra, Anura the golden toad, and Galleon the human wizard.
The Familiars #3: Circle of Heroes Page 14
