The Familiars (9 page)

The loyals and their familiars took off running again. Aldwyn glanced behind him to see the enchanted weapons, kept afloat only by Kalstaff’s spell, fighting the queen’s three soldiers. The trident’s three blades ducked and dodged, trying to fork the belly of one of the guards. The long, sharp metal edge of the halberd was quick enough to slice a gash in one of the sword-wielding henchmen’s shoulders. But Kalstaff’s concentration
was too divided: the spiked club met a devastating blow as the battle-axe splintered the blunt wooden weapon in half.

“Old age has weakened you,” mocked Loranella, her nose twitching with delight. “Funny, because I seem to just keep getting stronger.”

She conjured a ball of fire in her hand and hurled it at Kalstaff. He held up a forearm to redirect it.

“What has corrupted your mind? A curse? Disease? You can be healed. I’ll help you.”

“It’s far too late for that,” said the queen as her black eyes narrowed coldly, a shimmer of pink behind them. “I’m going to feed your corpse to the bone vultures.”

She clapped her hands together, sending out a beam of energy. Kalstaff grabbed his rod with both hands, shooting forth a beam of his own. The two bursts of light smashed up against each other, deadlocking in the air, neither wizard able to gain an advantage.

Skylar and Aldwyn arrived at the iron cellar doors first. Jack, Marianne, and Dalton got there moments later. Gilbert lagged behind, hopping as fast as his legs could carry him. Aldwyn realized
they were just a swing of the door and a jump away from safety: below the ground, behind the alabaster-lined walls of the cellar, they would be protected. But just as Marianne reached for the latch, a pale orange stream of light shot over her shoulder, striking the metal cellar hasp and encasing it in a thick layer of rust. The loyals and familiars spun to see that the bolt had come from Loranella, who while engaged in the standoff with Kalstaff had been able to use a ring on her other hand to cast the spell. Marianne tried to pull the doors open anyway, but the queen’s rusting bond held fast.

“Skylar, I need some ground glow worm,” said Dalton. “It’s the only thing that can eat through the rust.”

Skylar immediately dove her beak into her leather satchel and began rummaging for the necessary vial.

“It’s not here,” she said with a look of confusion.

“What do you mean, it’s not there?” asked Dalton.

Before Skylar could answer, Jack spoke up sheepishly. “I borrowed it.” All eyes turned to
him. “I’m sorry. I was trying to make my marbles glow in the dark. But there’s still some left over. It’s in my pouch. On the nightstand.”

Everybody’s eyes turned back toward the cottage and the perils that lay between.

“It’s too dangerous,” said Marianne. “There’s no way any of us could make it there and back unharmed.”

“Aldwyn can do it,” said Jack.

It took Aldwyn a moment to realize what Jack had suggested. “I can?” he asked out loud.

Right then, the queen used her free hand to shoot forth another ring blast, this one intended to burn the young wizards alive. Dalton conjured a swirl of wind to lift a fallen everwillow branch from the ground to intercept it. Upon contact, the branch exploded in a shower of flaming wood chips.

“Aldwyn, go!” pleaded Jack as he took cover from the raining embers.

Aldwyn thought he was much too young to die a heroic death, but what else was there to do? Besides, if there was one thing he was good at, it was running. And so the alley cat turned familiar
ran—right between the legs of the guard with the battle-axe, who was now fighting the two halves of the spiked club—just beneath the concentrated waves of energy radiating from Kalstaff’s rod and Loranella’s rings, as the two wizards remained locked in deadly battle—and straight for the front door of the cottage.

Miraculously, Aldwyn got there unharmed. Once inside, he darted down the hall to the bedrooms. He didn’t stop until he arrived at Jack and Marianne’s room. There, sitting beside the globe, was Jack’s pouch. Aldwyn jumped atop the cot before leaping to the nightstand, where he snatched the leather bag in his teeth. Now all he had to do was go back the way he had come.

As he took a deep breath in preparation for another mad dash, he felt a hot tickle brush from his nostrils all the way into his throat. He realized that the room was beginning to fill with smoke, and that the ceiling was on fire. One of Loranella’s ring blasts must have set the cottage ablaze. Aldwyn high-tailed it for the hall, but before he reached the exit, one of the flame-licked ceiling beams collapsed, knocking the bedroom
door clean off its hinges and toppling toward him. Aldwyn slid beneath it, narrowly avoiding the burning wall of wood.

With Jack’s pouch secured in his mouth, he ran down the hallway and found the living room had become a crackling inferno, making the smithy’s furnace seem cool by comparison. Clay shingles were dropping through the ceiling, shattering as they hit the ground below. The hammocks, once hanging peacefully, now looked like flaming spiderwebs, ready to grab Aldwyn in their tangle of burning rope. But he dodged the obstacles before bounding out through the doorway.

He immediately saw that the situation outside had gotten significantly worse. Kalstaff had been forced to his knees and was struggling mightily to fight back the queen’s relentless onslaught of magic. In his weakening state, Kalstaff’s ability to control the floating weapons had diminished enough for the soldiers to gain the upper hand. Only the halberd remained fighting, with the club and trident fallen. Two of Loranella’s soldiers were almost upon the young wizards, who still were trapped outside the cellar doors.
Aldwyn could see Skylar flying out from the woods, a small dark cloud following behind her. The brave blue jay flung a barrage of yellow storm berries at the approaching soldiers, causing a sheet of rain to fly in their faces. A small lightning bolt struck the helmet of the guard with the battle-axe. He tore it off his head to reveal a large patch of smoking scalp where half of his hair had been singed off. As Skylar took another flyby, he swung his helmet angrily, hitting her wing and sending her tumbling into the grass.

Aldwyn’s charge across the meadow was stopped short by the sound of shattering glass as the tip of Kalstaff’s rod broke into a thousand pieces. It was followed by a haunting wail that seemed to come from the broken rod itself. Loranella wasted no time and struck the disarmed wizard with all of her evil-hearted sorcery. A spear of hot white energy seared a hole straight through Kalstaff’s chest. As the wizard collapsed, the entire world seemed to freeze in horror and despair. For a moment, the eerie stillness of death hung over Stone Runlet.

Then Marianne screamed “No!” and time
started moving again. The queen faced her soldiers. “Kill them! Kill them all!” she screamed, motioning at the young wizards.

With her back now turned, she didn’t notice Kalstaff stir, his lips forming the all but inaudible words “
Shieldarum resisto.
” The spell barely escaped his mouth, but again three shimmering bubbles formed in the air, only this time they didn’t look nearly as delicate as they had before, glowing brighter and bolder as they spun rapidly toward his young apprentices.

“Talk about déjà vu,” said the queen as she fired three more ruby needles from her ring at the bubbles floating by her. But now, when the red tips of her bolts hit the protective spells, they didn’t puncture them; they merely bounced off. “What?” Loranella exclaimed, unable to hide her surprise and dismay.

Before she could make another attempt to destroy them, the three bubbles encircled Jack, Marianne, and Dalton, melding to their bodies and creating a thin, impenetrable forcefield around each one of them.

The queen glared down at Kalstaff, who was
pale and motionless and to Aldwyn seemed even more wrinkled than before.

“You used your last pulse of life for
that
? To cast three Astraloch bubbles? They won’t protect them for long, Kalstaff.” She shook her head dismissively and turned to her guards. “Bind them, gag them, and take them away. We will kill them when the spell wears off.” The soldiers were quick to obey.

Aldwyn dropped the pouch from his mouth. What good would the glow worms do now that the children were kidnapped?

Queen Loranella walked up to the captured wizards with a hop in her step. She whistled, and four balls of green energy appeared in the air, quickly unfolding into the four spectral steeds. Each of the soldiers hoisted one of the bound children atop a horse before mounting it. Aldwyn could only watch helplessly as Jack’s pleading eyes cried out for help. The queen hopped nimbly onto the last of the phantom stallions and, without looking back once, commanded, “Ride.”

The ghostly path materialized again, curving away into the sky. On it, the steeds galloped off
and were soon swallowed up by the darkness.

Silence descended quickly and without warning. It was as if the bugs, brook, and wind all dared not speak. Aldwyn stood in a daze. Gilbert hobbled over from where he had been kicked aside by one of the queen’s soldiers. Then the two spotted Skylar lying beak down in the dirt. They ran over to their comrade.

“Skylar,” called Gilbert, nudging her with his webbed foot. “Wake up!”

The jay flew up into the air with a start, wings beating and head spinning frantically. “Where are they? What happened?”

Aldwyn and Gilbert exchanged a look.

“What is it? Is Dalton okay? Tell me,” demanded Skylar.

“They’ve all been captured,” said Gilbert. “And the queen . . .”

Then Skylar looked over and saw Kalstaff lying on the ground. Like a dart, she flew to his side. Aldwyn and Gilbert quickly followed. Gathering before him, the familiars found Kalstaff breathing heavily, his cloak hiding the severity of his wound. The old wizard tried to clear his throat.
“Familiars, come close and listen carefully,” he whispered weakly. “I am afraid a great responsibility has fallen on your shoulders. I wish it weren’t so, but my path ends here.” He coughed, then licked his lips before continuing. “Earlier this evening, I saw a prophecy—three stars spinning in the sky. It foretold that three young spellcasters from Stone Runlet were destined to save this world: Marianne, Jack, and Dalton. It is clear they have powers that are yet untapped, powers that could change the tide of what I fear may be coming. And it is now evident that I was not the only one who saw this prophecy.”

“The queen,” said Skylar, explaining to Aldwyn and Gilbert.

“Yes. The enchantment I cast upon your loyals will protect them for three sunsets. After that, it will fade, and they will be defenseless against the queen’s deadly magic.” Kalstaff’s last breaths grew near. “You must find a way to rescue them. It is up to you.”

“Us? How?” asked Aldwyn in disbelief.

“We’re just a bunch of familiars,” added Gilbert, shaking his head.

Even Skylar had a look of uncertainty on her face.

“I see the worry on your faces, but fear not. Heroism appears in many forms,” said Kalstaff in a whisper. “Not always man or woman but also fur, feather, and tongue.”

Kalstaff’s eyes closed, never to open again. The once mighty wizard was dead.

Skylar flew gently atop him, nuzzling her feathered head into his chest. Gilbert stepped into his unmoving, open palm. Even though he had hardly known Kalstaff, Aldwyn, too, was overwhelmed by a feeling of profound loss. He had never experienced death before, at least not that of someone close to him. The only thing comparable was the feeling of heartbreak he endured from never having known his parents.

As the animals said their last good-byes, a circle of mist formed a stone’s throw away, and out from the fog, a faintly glowing bloodhound emerged, old and tender looking.

Gilbert looked up at the canine spirit.

“Zabulon,” he said.

Skylar lifted her beak, wiping away a tear
with her wing. She, too, recognized the ghost of Kalstaff’s familiar, his drooping ears and long face.

“Take good care of him,” she said. “Guide him gently into the Tomorrowlife.”

Zabulon approached Kalstaff, his steps light and buoyant, freed from the gravity that burdens all living beings. He leaned his head down and took hold of the deceased wizard’s hand before giving a pull. Aldwyn and the others watched as Zabulon gently tugged Kalstaff’s spirit from his body. The transparent figure rose to his feet and turned to the mist without looking back. Together, the ghostly wizard and his familiar walked into the fog, reunited again.

Kalstaff was gone, the cottage had burned to the ground, and the young wizards were in the clutches of the evil queen. The three animals were on their own, an impossible task weighing heavily on their small backs.

Aldwyn had but one question in his mind:
How had the fate of Vastia fallen upon a tree frog, a blue jay, and himself, a fake familiar without even the tiniest whisker of magic?

7

INTO THE UNKNOWN

F
our small gray clouds dropped rain over what was left of the cottage as Skylar flung storm berries into the flames. Sheets of water doused the blackened roof, sending steam drifting into the air. Aldwyn’s heart ached upon seeing the now charred walls. He was hesitant to even look inside, not wanting to further tarnish the sweet memories of his all-too-short time here in Stone Runlet.