The Familiars #3: Circle of Heroes (16 page)

If the nuts had really gone, Aldwyn realized, the last leg of their journey had just become much more difficult. Without those nuts, they would have to continue on with no sleep, and they still needed to find a golden toad and get to the third glyphstone. If Skylar was right and the battle at Jabal Tur had nothing to do with the nuts’ disappearance, then someone else had to be responsible. Someone within their group. Aldwyn looked at Lothar. But the wolverine had been chained up since his capture. That left only allies and friends as potential suspects. Perhaps all were not what they seemed.

Navid brought them out of the tunnel on the far side of the Kailasa mountains. The trees and vegetation were lush. To the north lay the dry, arid landscape of Maidenmere, but here, nestled at the base of Kailasa, the sky was dotted with rain clouds, and a steady drizzle fell from above.

Aldwyn could only imagine how long this trek would have taken them had Navid not led them on a shortcut. Even Marati seemed to be quietly impressed by her rival’s feat.

“So, Navid, where do we find one of these golden toads?” asked Gilbert.

“Keep your voice down,” said Orion, pointing his snout toward twisting vines that snaked from tree to tree. “We don’t need the chatter vines spreading word of our plans.”

“The golden toads live among the palm trees,” Navid said. “Feeding on the bugs that grow on their branches.”

Banshee, Gilbert, and Aldwyn climbed onto Orion’s back. Navid and Marati were offered a place there as well, but neither liked the idea of being so close to the other. So they chose to stick to the ground on opposite sides of Orion. Lothar continued to keep pace behind them.

Simeon sidled up to Navid and said, “I see the hate that you and the mongoose have for one another. What is the cause of such animosity?”

“The Abyssmal Canyon was the land of the cobras, long before the mongooses arrived.” Navid’s anger grew. “Before they slayed our king.”

“Liar!” shouted Marati from the other side of Orion. “We were the rightful heirs to that land. We were only acting in self-defense.”

“Whatever happened between your species in the past does not have to continue into the future,” said Simeon to Navid. “Come. Let me show you something.”

“What I just saw changes nothing,” said Navid a moment later. It looked as if the bloodhound and the king cobra had never left, but from the change in Navid’s expression, Aldwyn could tell that they had just embarked on and returned from a walk into an alternative past. “You expect me to believe that those white-tails were merely innocents? You’d have better luck getting me to swallow an entire elephant.”

Skylar sat by Orion’s tail, looking out at the border jungles. The air was thick with moisture, and droplets of water clung to every leaf, branch, and twig. Lothar eyed the bird.

“Want to learn a magic spell?” the wolverine hissed.

She ignored him.

“It’s a nifty one,” said Lothar. “The kind your wizard would never teach you.”

Aldwyn could see that Skylar was struggling to restrain her curiosity.

Lothar inched closer to the blue jay.

“It’s called Yajmada’s Spear,” he said. “That’s right, it was created by the founder of the Noctonati himself. I saw how interested you were in his story earlier. I figured you’d appreciate a spell that carries his name. It’s a simple incantation, but one that needs to be spoken by a powerful spellcaster. You just say the words
astula Yajmada
and touch the tips of your paws, or in your case, wings, together.”

Astula Yajmada
. Those words sent a shiver up Aldwyn’s spine.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” asked Skylar. “That I’m just going to perform some forbidden spell that might blast through your chains?”

“No, you’re far too smart for that,” said Lothar. “I just wanted to share with you a little taste of what kind of power you could unleash if you joined Paksahara.”

Skylar looked at him scornfully.

“As bloodthirsty as you think I am,” continued Lothar, “I bear no ill will toward my fellow animals. It is man I despise, and I think you do, too.”

“I love my loyal.”

“Yet they keep so much from you. Look what Paksahara has already been able to achieve since she left the queen. Commandeering the Shifting Fortress. Dispelling human magic. Raising the dead. Everybody has someone they wish they could bring back. Someone dear to them who is gone.”

Aldwyn could see that this last note struck a chord in Skylar. He knew that the blue jay had long wanted to bring back her deceased sister from the Tomorrowlife, and now Lothar seemed to be offering her the chance to do it.

The group arrived before a patch of palm trees.

“Keep your eyes open for anything that sparkles in the light,” Navid said. “A golden toad is not hard to spot.”

Before Skylar turned her attention to the trees, Lothar got in the last words.

“Remember Yajmada’s Spear,” he said. “Try it sometime. That crimson blast never fails.”

Crimson blast? Again Aldwyn remembered Gilbert’s puddle viewing: it had been a ruby-colored spear fired from Skylar’s wing tips that impaled the tree frog. One by one, the details of the vision were falling into place. Where at first it had seemed impossible, now it appeared almost inevitable. Aldwyn decided he would keep an eye on his blue jay companion from now on, just to be safe.

At that precise moment Aldwyn felt something sting the side of his neck. He looked down to see that he had been struck by a long, thin dart. Then he collapsed to the ground. He was awake and aware, but unable to move. One by one, the other animals went down, too, until all were lying motionless on the ground.

Aldwyn felt the blood pounding inside his forehead. Then he saw their attackers: a troop of very, very small hippopotamuses. They were gray creatures no taller than cucumbers wearing body armor and carrying blowguns.

“After everything we’ve been through—gundabeasts, seven-headed hydras, and thousands of zombies in the Dead Army—
this
is how we’re going to die?” Aldwyn struggled to get the words out through his partially paralyzed mouth. “At the hands of a bunch of tiny little hippopotamuses?!”

“Tiny little hippopotamuses,” repeated Gilbert. “Remember my vision in the pickle barrel? Those
weren’t
sour dills! I knew it!”

“Look at that,” said Skylar. “I guess all of your puddle visions really do come true sooner or later.”

Suddenly Gilbert went pale.

“They do, don’t they?” His eyes turned to Aldwyn and he whispered under his breath, “After Skylar kills me, I want you to have my poetry collection. That is, if the hippopotamuses don’t kill me first.”

Several hippos were closing in on them with giant netting, about to ensnare the animals, when suddenly a giant shadow swept along the grass. Its shape was unmistakable. It was a dragon. The hippo soldiers went into battle position, back to back and weapons at the ready. Then flames began to rain down on them, and they had no choice but to flee.

That’s when Aldwyn glanced up to see that their savior was not a giant fire-breathing dragon but a
pocket-
sized one. Once the hippos realized what they had been spooked by, they stopped their retreat and turned their blowguns back at the little snake-like creature with wings. The pocket dragon reacted quickly. He might have been small, but he was fast.

As a volley of poisonous darts shot forth, the dragon let out fiery breaths, incinerating them in midair. The creature dipped down, sending the hippos running as it strafed the ground with blasts of fire.

The pocket dragon chased off the last of the hippos, a few of them scampering into the brush with flaming rear ends. Once they were gone, the dragon landed beside the Three and the descendants. He reached into his pouch and sprinkled flower petal dust into each of the animals’ mouths. It took only a moment for the paralyzing effects of the venom to fade away. Aldwyn’s muscles loosened and he was able to sit back up.

“The chatter vines spread word of your arrival here,” said the pocket dragon. He had a confident swagger that put the queen’s noblest soldiers to shame. “I feared you would be easy bait for the Baroness’s soldiers.”

The brave little fighter reminded Aldwyn of Karna, the pocket dragon that Jack would have picked as his familiar if Aldwyn had not been there. After witnessing this daring rescue, Aldwyn was more certain than ever that Jack had made a terrible mistake.

“What is such a motley crew of animals doing in the border jungles?” asked the pocket dragon.

“We seek a golden toad,” said Skylar. “The last descendant needed to complete the circle of heroes.”

“Ha! The irony,” said the dragon. “There is one in the possession of the very woman who just sought your capture. She is known as the Baroness. She’s amassed a large fortune thanks to just such a toad.”

“And do you know where we can find this woman?” asked Skylar.

“The Baroness lives atop Diamond Hill, so named for the precious stone found buried beneath it. But she will not part with her luck-bringing toad without a fight.”

“Luck-bringing?” asked Gilbert.

“It is the golden toad’s gift and their curse,” said the dragon. “Just being in the mere presence of one can bestow good fortune beyond your wildest dreams. If a hundred arrows flew toward you, not a single one would hit. If you were dying of thirst, a geyser would sprout up from the ground at your feet. Old friends have been united, treasures have been found, and villains vanquished by sheer happenstance. That is why they are sought after by kings, wizards, and paupers alike. Unfortunately, the golden toad can’t personally use its luck. That is why they are so easily captured.”

“Can you point us in the direction of this Diamond Hill?” asked Skylar.

The pocket dragon lifted his wing to the west. “Just through there,” he started to say.

“Looking for us?” a female voice called from beyond the trees.

A moment later a huge woman wearing finely embroidered clothes and an abundance of jewelry emerged. A golden toad rested on her shoulder, its ankle fastened to her by a chain. They were joined by a dozen armed hippos.

“It appears our luck just ran out,” said the pocket dragon.

The Baroness stroked her finger along the toad’s back, and a freak gust of wind was followed by the sound of wood splintering. Aldwyn and the other animals didn’t even get a chance to move as thick tree limbs dropped all around them. Once the last of the branches had fallen, Aldwyn realized that he and his companions had been trapped within a dome-shaped cage.

“It seems my good fortune is your bad,” said the Baroness.

The hippos raised their blowguns once more and took aim at the captured animals. Aldwyn felt another sting, this time in his thigh, and his body gave out on him. As his face hit the ground, he looked out beyond the cage and spotted Gilbert hiding in the trees. He was wide-eyed and trembling but free.

And now he was their only hope.

13

A STROKE OF LUCK

“T
here’s good news and bad news,” said Banshee. “Gilbert is out there, coming up with a plan to rescue us.”

“So what’s the good news?” asked Marati.

“That
was
the good news,” said Banshee.

Aldwyn wanted to believe in Gilbert but couldn’t deny that their situation looked grim. The captives had been brought to the Baroness’s estate on the hill. Now they were being kept in separate cages within a large courtyard. And there were other animals here, too, held prisoners by the Baroness’s hippo soldiers.

Even from the courtyard, the estate’s spectacular excess was apparent. It seemed that good fortune had poisoned the Baroness and her daughter with vanity. There were topiaries trimmed in their likenesses, marble statues, and portraits on silk tapestries that fluttered from every turret on the estate’s grounds.

Unfortunately, a penchant for self-indulgence was not all that afflicted the golden toad’s owner. The Baroness seemed to be paranoid as well. There were hippo soldiers in the watch-towers, and more patrolling the perimeter of the grounds with their blowguns. A Fjord Guard, a giant with blue-tinted skin and armpit hair that hung to his elbow, stalked the premises, making sure that no one broke in … or out.