The Familiars #3: Circle of Heroes (21 page)

“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 circle of heroes stood side by side, hand in paw and tail wrapped around leg. As they became connected, a bright sunlight-colored aura started glowing around them; then orange rays burst forth from the seven, striking the glyphstone. The runic symbols covering the pillar began to sparkle as if a magic deep within the boulder was being awakened.

Aldwyn felt as if he could finally put to rest his fear about fulfilling the prophecy.

“Back at Stone Runlet,” he said to the others, “I read something in Kalstaff’s diary. He said that prophecies don’t always come true. I was afraid that the stars had made a mistake. That Jack had chosen the wrong familiar. That we’d fail. But I guess the stars had a plan after all.”

“It wasn’t the stars that made the prophecy come true,” said Queen Loranella. “It was the three of you. Everybody makes their own destiny.”

Across the field, a giant smoky-blue globe appeared. Hundreds of feet up in the air, the top floor of a tower materialized, followed by a curving staircase that led up to it. Then, like an intricate patchwork, one brick after another appeared, creating the tower’s smooth, gray outer walls and base. Veins of red stretched from its bottom to its peak, throbbing as if they were alive.

“The Shifting Fortress,” said Aldwyn.

They had brought it back.

17

BATTLE AT BRONZHAVEN

T
he descendants remained in a circle. The glyphstone was still glowing, but there was no longer any light streaming from the descendants.

“You can step back now,” said Queen Loranella. “The summoning spell is complete.”

The queen signaled a chinchilla that was sitting nearby, and the brown ground rat, with its big ears and protruding whiskers, crawled up her arm and onto her shoulder. It opened its tiny mouth and proceeded to let out a deafening roar. The trumpeting sound seemed to be a gathering call. Once its echo spread through the maze of neighboring tents, more allies of the queen emerged into the open. There were hundreds of cloaked warriors, wearing different-colored robes, each bearing the crest of one of Vastia’s ten provinces. Carrying swords and staves, they gathered before the queen in orderly lines, awaiting her command.

“I see you devised a shrewd battle plan,” said Galleon.

“Yes, I only sent a fraction of our forces to protect the illusionary glyphstone,” said Queen Loranella. “I knew that once the Fortress was summoned, we would need the majority of our troops here.”

Out of a separate tent came a man with curly red hair who Aldwyn knew as the shopkeeper from the familiar store in Bridgetower. He was joined by a menagerie of magical animals, many of which Aldwyn recognized from his brief stay in the shop. There were teleporting wombats, tiny lizards with saddles on their backs, large-eyed lemurs, poisonous hedgehogs, and more.

“Dad, Phillip, what are you doing here?” asked a surprised Gilbert.

Aldwyn turned to see a mass of Daku tree frogs approaching, including Gilbert’s dad and his brother Phillip. They were all armed with spears, but unlike the ones they had used in previous battles, these were thicker and made of bamboo, each with unique symbols carved into them.

“We’ve come to fight alongside you, brother,” said Phillip.

“And we brought you this,” said Gilbert’s dad.

The elder tree frog held out a spear for Gilbert, who took it with great pride.

“My valor staff,” he said, and Aldwyn thought he could glimpse a tear in his companion’s eyes. Gilbert promptly strapped it to his back.

Then Sorceress Edna pushed through the crowd, holding a porcelain piccolo in her hands. Urbaugh and the other royal guardsmen stood beside Loranella.

“Soldiers of Vastia, defenders of this land,” said the queen. “There are two tasks that remain before us. One is to defend this pillar. As long as it stands, the Shifting Fortress will be unable to move from this location. The other is to infiltrate the tower itself. You won’t see a door and the only window is at the very top—in the casting chamber. The only way to get inside is to conjure a telegate. The casting chamber is where you will find a receiving vessel that holds all of the dispelled magic taken from Vastia’s wizards. You must destroy it to reverse the disenchantment.”

“I’ve seen what she’s talking about,” Aldwyn said quietly to Skylar. “Through the eye of one of the spyballs. A giant crystal urn filled with wisps of smoke, much like the vial that Coriander wore around his neck.”

Meanwhile, Queen Loranella had continued issuing her commands. “Urbaugh, take the rangers of the Estovian province and the mace-wielders from the Crescent Islands. Try to carve a path to the tower.”

Urbaugh nodded and began gathering a faction of black-hooded men and women with shaved heads. The queen turned to the guardsman sitting atop Thisby, one of the lightmares who had competed on the Scorch Path. The guardsman had dark black eyebrows and a thick mane of hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Commander Warden,” continued Loranella. “Take your pupils from Turnbuckle Academy and make a run for the Fortress. Familiars, descendants, do the same. My friends from Nearhurst, spread yourselves among the troops. Your illusions are an asset to all. Tree frogs, you’ll stay here and guard the glyphstone along with the Bronzhaven shield-bearers.”

Paksahara’s zombie army was mobilizing its own plan of attack, with one half of it poised to defend the Shifting Fortress, and the other marching toward the glyphstone. Spyballs were looming overhead, watching every move of the queen’s army. That’s when Sorceress Edna used her piccolo to send out a melodic call. Within seconds Aldwyn felt the air starting to vibrate. A flock of tremor hawks thundered across the sky. The spyballs were unprepared for the swift attack, and it became readily apparent that these winged eyeballs were a tasty treat for the hawks, who began to gobble them up.

Aldwyn and his companions were hurrying through the encampment to where the trees began. “I think we should split off from here,” said Orion. “I’ll draw the Dead Army’s attention away from you.”

He nodded to Mason, who was perched in one of the trees.

“Come, red bird,” he said. “Let’s put your illusionary skills to work.”

Mason flew toward them and landed on the lightmare’s back, then gave a wink to Skylar before Orion galloped off into the trees. The familiars and Navid, Banshee, Marati, Galleon, and Simeon took a different path, stalking through the apple trees, while all around them, beyond the forest, the noise of battle could be heard. They continued on, over knobby roots and around shallow pools of quickmud. Aldwyn’s eyes never lost sight of the tip of the Fortress peeking out above the trees.

“Has anyone seen Anura?” asked Gilbert.

The others glanced around. Just as the realization was sinking in that they’d somehow managed to lose Anura in all the chaos, they heard a mighty crash up ahead. A twenty-foot-tall gundabeast broke through the trees before them, its three eyes bloodshot and angry, its horn sharp enough to pierce any armor. Chains were wrapped around its waist, and behind it a cave shaman with a sparking electrical whip prodded the creature.

“Attack!” the tongueless shaman hissed through the hole in his throat.

Galleon conjured a bolt of fire, and Marati and Navid delivered attacks of their own, but all merely bounced off the thick plating encasing the vicious beast’s hide.

“Whew, I thought I’d lost you,” said Anura, bouncing up to the others. “I just got stuck in some quickmud.”

And just like that, their luck changed. Suddenly constrictor vines reached out and grabbed the gundabeast by its wrists and ankles. Another tangle of vines took hold of the cave shaman and lifted him off his feet, making him disappear from view.

“That’s what I would call good fortune,” said Aldwyn. “It seems those constrictor vines sprang out at just the right moment.”

Gilbert turned to Anura.

“More like
you
turned up at just the right moment,” he said to the golden toad. “I’m not sure I ever want to leave your side.”

Anura blushed.

Gilbert blushed.

“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” blurted out the tree frog. “I mean, unless you wanted me to. Okay, I’m going to stop talking now.”

With the gundabeast held captive by the vines, the familiars and descendants made their way out of the woods and onto the battlefield, where Urbaugh and his troops were slashing their way through a pack of undead long-horned elk. Urbaugh was slicing two heads off at a time with his sword while the rangers beside him fired arrows at the zombie attackers. In front of them, Commander Warden and the young wizards of Turnbuckle Academy, who looked no older than Marianne or Dalton, were clearing a path toward the Fortress. They each had a familiar at their side casting spells and using their innate magical talents to fight back the dead hordes. Warden himself looked to be a superb leader, directing his pupils in wave after wave of coordinated attacks.

Aldwyn turned to see Orion galloping through enemy forces. On the lightmare’s back was a perfect illusion being cast by Mason. Aldwyn and the others appeared to be riding atop the horse. They were drawing a tremendous amount of attention from Paksahara’s minions, both living and dead, and the few spyballs that were left after the tremor hawk assault. Mason was causing a distraction, drawing attention away from Aldwyn and the others.

The familiars and descendants used the diversion as an opportunity to move forward. Keeping low to the ground, Aldwyn was beginning to think that they might be able to make it to the Shifting Fortress without having to engage in this lethal battle. Then he heard the pained howl of Simeon behind him. He spun around to see Lothar attacking the bloodhound, who struggled beneath the weight of the wolverine and three of his companions.