The Familiars #3: Circle of Heroes (6 page)

“But we will. It’s our destiny,” said Skylar.

Aldwyn quietly continued walking.

“Well, it doesn’t matter what they do to honor us,” said Gilbert, “as long as my family is there to see it.”

Aldwyn looked down at his father’s necklace. The whisper shells hanging from it held the voices of both Aldwyn’s mother and his twin sister, as well as his own. This was all he had left of his family.

“I’m sorry, Aldwyn,” said Gilbert. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. I haven’t given up hope that my sister is out there somewhere. Of course, finding her is another story. She doesn’t even know I exist.”

“When this is all over, we’ll help you,” said Skylar. “Whatever it takes.”

They might not have been blood, but Skylar and Gilbert certainly felt like family to Aldwyn.

It was nearing dusk by the time the trio reached the edge of the woodlands. Aldwyn had a fleeting memory of the last time he had walked beneath the emerald shade of these colossus trees; he had been with Jack, not long after they had first met. Together they had peered inside the web of a spider nymph and come face to face with a gundabeast. Aldwyn hoped he would not be seeing either of those unfriendly forest inhabitants again today.

Skylar was flying ahead of Aldwyn and Gilbert, doing reconnaissance.

“Where do we begin?” asked Gilbert, looking up at the miles of green stretching above them.

“Shhh,” Skylar called back to him. “I hear something.”

Aldwyn listened closely and then he heard it, too: the distant sound of drumming.
Boom bah bah boom. Boom bah bah boom
. The Three followed the beat, which was very clearly coming from somewhere above them.

Skylar flew over to a large, twisty tree with rough bark.

“Over here,” said Skylar. “It’s a spiralwood. The way it corkscrews should allow you to walk up it like you’d climb a set of stairs.”

Aldwyn dug his claws into the trunk and scampered up a few feet.

“Works for me,” he said. “Gilbert?”

Gilbert’s suction pads didn’t have any trouble pulling him up the bark, either.

“There’s a reason they call us tree frogs,” he said.

Skylar flew beside them, and the familiars ascended higher and higher, approaching a dense layer of pale green leaves that formed a kind of natural ceiling. They pushed their way through it and found themselves looking up at yet another canopy; it was as if they had reached the second floor of a building. It was brighter here than below, and colorful flowers were straining toward the pinhole shafts of light that pierced the foliage above. Hundreds of white butterflies with green-and-silver wings were flitting about in the gentle breeze.

A colony of day bats emitted high-pitched squeals as they flew right past Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert and began feasting on the fluttering insects, plucking them out of the air and swallowing them whole. It was only a matter of seconds before the butterflies were gone and the fearsome-looking creatures turned their attention to the familiars.

“Guys, I think those butterflies were just the appetizer,” said Aldwyn. “And we’re the main course.”

The day bats circled back toward them. Frantically, Aldwyn and Gilbert climbed the spiralwood, but they didn’t stand a chance of making it through the next ceiling of green before becoming bat food.

“Skylar, now would be an excellent time for one of your illusions,” said Gilbert urgently.

“They won’t be of any use,” she replied, with real concern in her voice. “Day bats don’t hunt by sight. They use sound to find their prey.”

“So what do we do?!” exclaimed Gilbert.

“Lowering your voice might be a good place to start,” whispered Aldwyn.

Too late: the bats let out a coordinated hiss and opened their jaws in unison, ready to attack. But suddenly, the leaves above parted and an enormous winged insect plunged toward them. It had the same white body and green-and-silver wing markings as the tiny butterflies—but its size was mind-boggling. The giant moth ate five bats in one bite, then swallowed another three in the next.

Aldwyn and Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief and raced for the next level while the creature continued its assault on the day bats.

“I think they made the mama butterfly angry,” said Gilbert.

“If that’s the mama, I’d hate to see what the papa looks like,” replied Aldwyn.

They burst through the thick layer of branches and emerged to find themselves dwarfed in a land of giant bugs and flowers: gargantuan spiders were weaving webs the size of castles; buffalo beetles, who usually were just a few inches long, stood taller than the large mammals they were named after. Even a dainty ladybug was terrifying when it was the size of a dragon. Now Aldwyn knew what it must have felt like for the fleas living inside his fur.

“Did we just shrink or something?” asked Gilbert.

“No,” said Skylar. “It must be the colossus sap.” She pointed to a hole in the tree stem, from which a crimson sap was slowly leaking. Aldwyn observed an already oversized ant lapping up droplets of the sticky liquid. After a moment, the ant’s legs began to stretch, and its body expanded like a loaf of bread in the oven.

“I thought Kalstaff said you had to add lava spice to make someone grow,” said Aldwyn.

“What’s true for humans and mammals obviously isn’t the case with insects,” said Skylar.

Boom bah bah boom. Boom bah bah boom
.

The drumming had been steadily growing louder.

“We must be getting close to the monkey village,” said Gilbert.

The three continued their ascent, and Aldwyn could feel his legs getting tired. Walking a mile was draining enough, but moving vertically was downright exhausting.

As the familiars approached the next ceiling of green, Aldwyn was hoping that beyond it they would finally find the home of the howler monkeys. But bursting through the foliage, he found himself staring up at the sky, with a beautiful sunset in progress. The leaves on which they now stood looked and felt like a field of grass, and the clouds above seemed close enough to touch. They had reached the top of the Forest Under the Trees—and there wasn’t a single howler monkey in sight. What’s more, the sound of drumming had faded completely.

“They must be hiding,” said Gilbert, stating the obvious.

Aldwyn looked around, and at first, the surrounding area appeared completely desolate. But then he was able to make out a number of huts that were almost completely camouflaged by the treetops. Skylar had spotted them, too, and flew in their direction. Aldwyn and Gilbert gingerly stepped onto the leafy meadow, which fortunately turned out to be strong enough to support their weight. As they got closer, Aldwyn saw that the huts formed a ring around a giant wooden platform, on which he could see drums, a shrine, and a large barnlike structure. Skylar had already landed on the platform and was looking around.

“Banshee, come out,” she called. “I know you’re here.”

Aldwyn looked at Skylar, wondering if she had lost her mind.

“Um, Skylar,” he said. “You do realize that no one is here, right?”

“Clearly you aren’t aware of what the howler monkeys’ special talent is,” she replied. “Invisibility.” Then she called again: “Banshee!”

But again there was no answer. Aldwyn began to wonder: If somebody who could turn invisible didn’t want to be found, how exactly did one go about finding her? That’s when something brushed against his fur, and it didn’t feel as if it was the wind.

“They seem harmless enough,” said a female voice. A moment later a sandy-brown howler monkey materialized before them. “I’m afraid there’s no one who goes by the name of Banshee here,” she continued.

Aldwyn felt a sharp tug on his tail, but when he turned, no one was there.

“Simka,” said the female howler monkey. “That’s not polite.”

A young monkey appeared, looking embarrassed from the scolding.

Still more howlers discarded their camouflage and revealed themselves.

“Is there another village in these trees?” Skylar asked the female monkey.

“None inhabited by the howler monkeys,” she answered.

“Banshee would have left your village many years ago to become a familiar,” said Skylar.

“Many of our kind go off to assist wizards,” said the female monkey.

“But this one might have come back,” said Skylar.

A knowing look immediately crossed all of the howlers’ faces.

One with red fur and bulging eyes walked up to them. “You mean Elbara. Banshee must have been her ground name.”

“Do you know where we can find her?” asked Skylar.

“She spends most of her time in the cloudbush, meditating,” said the red monkey, pointing to one of the far branches stretching skyward from the platform. The familiars looked up and spotted a lone figure, silhouetted against the sky.

By now close to a hundred howler monkeys had materialized. A few had resumed their drumming, but most were simply watching these strange visitors from below. From the curious looks he was getting, Aldwyn figured that strangers rarely stumbled upon this treetop community, and that the familiars’ heroic reputation had not preceded them.

The female howler monkey who seemed to be the leader of the colony directed them to a vine ladder hanging down from a branch. Aldwyn and Gilbert started climbing it, and Skylar soared alongside them. As they ascended the gently sloping limb, the sunset’s pinks and purples faded, and stars began to shine out from the dark blue.

At the top, a female howler monkey sat cross-legged with her eyes closed. She was beating her hands slowly and rhythmically against a fur-covered drum on her lap, almost as if in chorus with the wind. Her coat of black fur was short around her face, revealing her delicate features.

“Banshee,” Gilbert blurted out excitedly.

The monkey opened her eyes with a start.

“Gilbert, Skylar, I can’t believe it,” she said, leaping to her feet and giving them both big hugs with her arms and her tail. “And who’s this?” she asked, turning to Aldwyn.

“I’m Aldwyn, Jack’s familiar.”

“Oh, right, Marianne’s kid brother,” said Banshee. “Is he old enough to have his own familiar already? I remember when he was just my height.” Banshee paused and looked around. “Speaking of, where are your loyals anyway? And what are you doing up here?”

“You haven’t heard?” asked Skylar.

“Heard what?” replied Banshee. “I live thousands of feet up in the air. Not a lot of news reaches me these days.”

“There’s much that you’ve missed,” said Skylar. “Vastia is in terrible danger. A new Dead Army walks the land and we need you to join us to save the queendom. We have to collect a member from each of—”

“Yes,” said Banshee.

“—the seven descendants … Did you already say yes?” asked Skylar.

“Uh-huh. Count me in.”

“Don’t you want to hear what this is all about first?” asked Skylar.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Banshee. “I’ve been waiting three years for a chance like this to redeem myself. Stuck in these clouds, alone with my shame. Feeling invisible even when I could be seen.”

“Is this about Galleon?” asked Gilbert.

“I should have done more. Kalstaff always taught us that it was a familiar’s job to help their loyal no matter what. And I just let him walk into that duel. All because of a silly crush.”

“Sounds rather romantic to me,” said Gilbert.

“Not when you consider what he lost,” replied Banshee. “His magic. His manhood. The trust of the people he had sworn to protect.” She paused for a moment before adding, “And me.”

“What happened between the two of you?” asked Skylar.

“After Galleon lost the disenchantment duel, I suggested we return to Stone Runlet to seek Kalstaff’s help. If there was anyone able to retrieve the vial of Galleon’s magic, it would be Kalstaff. But Galleon refused. He was too humiliated, and instead sent letters filled with lies. I couldn’t allow a wizard with such great potential to just waste it. Harsh words were spoken between us. Galleon disowned me as his familiar. He said he never wanted to see me again. So what was I to do? A familiar is bonded to one loyal for life. I couldn’t just head back to the shop in Bridgetower and find a new loyal. That’s when I came home.” Banshee took a breath and clapped her hands together. “Enough about that. What’s this ‘save the queendom’ business you’ve come about?”

“You’re one of seven descendants that must be gathered around a Vastian glyphstone,” said Skylar. “We have to set out immediately for the Gloom Hills.”

“Why would you ever want to go to that miserable place?” asked Banshee.

“We must collect a bloodhound,” said Skylar.

“Ah.” Banshee nodded. “Zabulon’s brother, Simeon.”

“Yes. We were hoping to make it there before morning.”

“I’ll have us there within the hour,” said Banshee. She strapped her drums to her back and let out a howl that lived up to her species’ name. Heeding her call, a gray-and-red moth the size of a river raft flapped out of the barnlike structure below. Within seconds, it was hovering just inches below Banshee and the Three.

“Hop on,” said Banshee. “I hope none of you mind flying.”

Gilbert’s eyes went wider than usual.

“Um, actually, I had a very traumatic experience on the back of a tremor hawk,” he said.