The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams (15 page)

Gilbert let out a disappointed groan.

“Besides, your little disguise might come in handy,” Aldwyn said.

Gilbert was trying to say something, but his big lips and tongue didn’t want to cooperate. All he managed to mutter was incomprehensible gibberish.

“It’s probably better that we can’t understand him,” Aldwyn said to Skylar. “He doesn’t seem very happy.”

After peering inside another half-dozen rooms, they finally found the Academy’s library. They entered and began wandering past long wooden tables filled with students engaging in quiet study.

“These are all common scrolls and tomes,” Skylar said, gesturing to the walls. “The rare collections will be stored privately. Look for any doors to a back room.”

They didn’t have to search for long, though. The words “Special Archive” were etched into a glass door behind the librarian’s desk. Beyond it, Aldwyn caught sight of a cavernous room housing artifacts and scroll tubes. He noticed the scuffed chain-mail robes and twin swords worn and wielded by Kalstaff in his younger years.

“Kalstaff’s stuff,” Aldwyn said. “It’s really here.”

Fortunately the librarian was assisting a student examining some globes well out of their view. Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert hurried past the desk and sneaked into the archive. The first thing Aldwyn took note of was the temperature. It was colder here than in the library, which made sense, given the delicacy of all the papers stored within. To preserve them, a controlled climate would be ideal, and it seemed some kind of spell was providing that.

No one else was in the room save for the familiars, and besides the keepsakes from Kalstaff’s cellar there were relics that once belonged to many of Vastia’s other legendary wizards. One section was dedicated to the original familiar encyclopedias written by Phineus Pharkum. Another to Orachnis Protho’s hand-drawn blueprints and prototypes for some of his earliest magical inventions.

Aldwyn’s gaze returned to the robes and swords of their former mentor, alongside Kalstaff’s other possessions of note. They were all labeled and mounted to allow for study. There was just one thing that Aldwyn noticed was missing, and he was not disappointed to see it absent: Yajmada’s armor. His hair stood on end just thinking about the bone-hued helmet that had radiated pure evil. Back when Aldwyn had first seen it in Kalstaff’s cellar, the armor seemed to be possessed by a ghostly presence.

Skylar had found Kalstaff’s journals and was already flipping them open in search of the page labeled “The Spells of Somnibus Everwake.” Aldwyn and Gilbert ran over to help scan through the stack of journals, but Gilbert’s newly sprouted dog paws clumsily fumbled through the pages, nearly tearing them clean off.

“Gilbert, maybe you should just guard the door,” Skylar suggested.

He attempted to respond but slobbered instead.

Aldwyn lifted another pile of journals from a high shelf with his mind and stacked them up on the floor. He looked inside each one, hoping to find the antidote to the parasitic poison slowly drawing Queen Loranella closer to death.

After a couple of trying minutes that felt like hours, Aldwyn saw the words he was looking for.

“I found it,” he called. “‘The Spells of Somnibus Everwake.’ This is it!”

Skylar flew over.

“There must be an index,” she said.

She turned to the last pages and sought out the entry reading “Parasitic Poisons: Remedies, page 262.”

Skylar’s feathertips moved quickly, skipping back over large chunks of the book. Page 516 . . . 434 . . . 357 . . . 252 . . . She’d gone too far. The anticipation was taking its toll. Skylar slowed down: 260 . . . 263.

Wait. How was that possible? Aldwyn didn’t understand. Skylar doubled back. Then turned the page again. In between, there were only jagged edges of torn paper. The evidence left little doubt. Page 262 was missing.

The spell they were looking for had been ripped out.

“I
t’s gone,” Aldwyn said.

“I can see that,” Skylar replied.

Gilbert chimed in with an angry growl.

“Whoever’s behind all this has beaten us here, too,” Aldwyn said. “Now we’ll have no way to pull Loranella from the Wander.”

“This was the last remaining record of an antidote,” Skylar said. “And the only person still breathing who can tell us how to re-create it is the very victim of the poison itself.”

“Remember those dreams I’ve been telling you about?” Aldwyn said. “The ones with Queen Loranella. I keep thinking there was a message she was trying to send me. But I’m still not sure what it was.”

All of a sudden Gilbert began barking. He trotted over to them, tail wagging.

“What is it, Gilbert?” Skylar asked.

He tried again to speak but still couldn’t form the words. Frustrated, he started to pantomime instead, lying down on the floor and snoring.

“Gilbert, we’re all tired,” Skylar said. “But now isn’t the time for a nap.”

Gilbert shook his head and made another attempt. This time he walked over to one of the library’s small rugs and began scratching at it.

“I don’t understand,” Aldwyn said. “Are you digging for something?”

Gilbert smacked a paw against his head and gave up.

“I just wish we could wake Loranella up for a minute, or she could talk in her sleep,” Aldwyn said. “Something so she could tell us how to fix this.”

Skylar clapped her wings together.

“That’s it,” she said. “I think there’s a way she
can
talk to us in her sleep. In the Dreamworld! We can use those dreaming rugs we saw in the classroom and go to her.”

“Skylar, you’re a genius,” Aldwyn exclaimed.

Gilbert was frantically looking from Aldwyn to Skylar, then to the small rug he had been scratching. Then he pantomimed sleep and snoring just as he had done moments before.

“For goodness’ sake, Gilbert,” Skylar said, “if you’re really that exhausted, just lie down for a minute. You don’t have to make such a big fuss about it.”

Gilbert drooped his head back into his paws.

“Could that really work?” Aldwyn asked Skylar.

“It could work, but it won’t be easy. And to be perfectly honest, the Dreamworld’s not a place I know very much about. Only that it’s more dangerous than anywhere we’ve been before.” Skylar and Aldwyn shared a look of resolve. “We’ll have to get a dreaming rug of our own, and learn how to use it.”

“How are we going to do that?” Aldwyn asked.

“There must be some kind of manual or guidebook in the library,” Skylar said. “Although I’m not really certain we have time to look for it.”

“I have another idea,” Aldwyn said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“I’m not liking a whole lot about any of this,” Skylar replied.

The Three headed back for the glass door and made sure no one was in sight before sneaking out. They raced through the library and quickly returned to the Academy’s corridors. After making their way back down the hall, they stopped in front of the smaller classroom where the teacher had been instructing her students about the Dreamworld. Only five young wizards were inside now. Some had cuts and bruises. One had claw marks across his forehead, with the blood still fresh and dripping, but instead of getting help they were staring at their missing classmate’s dreaming rug.

“Another minute,” the teacher said. “Then I’ll go in myself.”

The pattern at the center of one of the rectangular rugs started swirling and a hand reached out. The teacher quickly grabbed the hand and pulled the girl from the rug.

“I took just one step off the path you mapped out for me,” the student muttered, nearly delirious.

“Consider yourself lucky you returned at all,” the teacher said. “Embeth, be a dear and take Daphne down to the infirmary. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert ducked around the corner and waited for the students to depart before they slipped through the open door. The teacher was wiping the day’s lesson plan from a slate.

“Familiars,” she said upon spotting them, “where are your loyals?”

Aldwyn telekinetically slammed the door shut, then turned to the chair at the teacher’s desk. He dragged it up behind her and mentally pushed her into it.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked.

“I’m very sorry,” Aldwyn replied. “But this is a matter of life or death for Queen Loranella. We can’t even be certain she’ll make it through the night.”

He tore a curtain from the window and used it to telekinetically bind the teacher’s wrists and ankles to the chair.

“
This
was your idea?” Skylar asked Aldwyn. “Kidnapping the instructor?”

“I told you you wouldn’t like it,” Aldwyn said.

The teacher struggled but couldn’t wriggle free or reach the wand sitting atop her desk.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Aldwyn assured her. “We just need your help.”

“Now I recognize you,” she said. “You’re Aldwyn and Skylar.” Then her attention turned to Gilbert. “Actually, I’m not sure who you are.”

Gilbert gave a frustrated yip.

“My next class starts in a few minutes,” the teacher said. “They’ll catch you.”

“Then we’d better be quick,” Skylar said. “We have to speak to Loranella, and we believe she can be contacted in the Dreamworld. Tell us everything we need to know. How to get in, how to get out . . . and how to avoid the dangers once we’re inside.”

“It takes years of practice to navigate such a world,” the teacher replied. “The place our minds go when we sleep is unpredictable and ever changing. A locale you visit one minute might not be there the next. And the pathways between them never lead you in straight lines. They go every which way.”

“Why don’t you start with the basics?” Aldwyn asked. “How do those dreaming rugs work?”

“All you need to do is lie down on one and close your eyes, and it will transport you to the land of dreams. But never forget, a physical visit is not the same as one you make while sleeping. Unlike a trip taken by your subconscious, traveling through a dreaming rug leaves you vulnerable to all the hazards the world has to offer.”

“And once we’ve found the queen and gotten the answers we need,” Skylar said, “how do we get out?”

“You must take a thread from your rug and pull it behind you,” the teacher said. “You can never lose it, though, for it will be the only way to find your way back.”

The sound of a bell clanged through the halls.

“My students will be arriving for class soon,” the teacher warned.

“When we come through the other side, how do we locate the queen?” Skylar asked.

“If in this world she’s at rest in the New Palace of Bronzhaven, then in that one you should find her waiting in the Palace of Dreams,” the teacher said. “But even I have never made a journey that far.”

“Then what do you recommend we do?” Aldwyn asked.

“Find a remwalker to guide you. You’ll recognize them by their bright red eyes, for they never sleep.”

Suddenly the door handle began to rattle.

“Help me!” the teacher cried. “I’ve been taken—”

Aldwyn telekinetically lifted the cloth she’d been using to wipe down the slate and flung it across the room and into her mouth, gagging her.

“Again, my apologies,” he said.

Skylar was already rolling up a dreaming rug.

“What are you doing?” Aldwyn asked.

“We can’t travel through here,” Skylar replied. “Remember, you come out the same place you go in. No doubt they’d be waiting for us.”

“Good point,” Aldwyn said.

“Now come on, help me get this up on Gilbert’s back,” Skylar said.

Aldwyn mentally lifted the rug into the air and set the bundle atop Gilbert.

“See, I told you this dog thing would come in handy,” Aldwyn said.

The attempts to open the door from the hall were growing more urgent and students’ voices could be heard. “Instructor Weaver, is everything okay in there?”

The cloth in her mouth prevented her from calling out.

Skylar turned to her companions. “Once Aldwyn opens that door, we make a run for it. Gilbert, whatever you do, don’t let that rug fall off your back.”

Gilbert let out a bark to indicate he understood.

“All right, here we go,” Aldwyn said.

He used his mind to unbolt the lock, and the door swung open. Immediately students came rushing in to find their teacher bound and gagged, but Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert were sprinting through their legs for the hall. Gilbert was moving so fast it was hard to keep up.

The familiars never looked back, charging down toward the exit. A student shouted out from the dreaming rug classroom. “We’ve got intruders!”

Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert burst out the front doors of the brick building. A pack of Turnbuckle students and instructors were racing toward the growing commotion.

“Can’t you two go any faster?” Gilbert called out.

Aldwyn and Skylar shared a look. Gilbert’s face had shed its shaggy beard and his mouth had returned to the smooth amphibious lips of a tree frog.

“Hey, I can talk again,” Gilbert said.

Aldwyn glanced ahead and saw Commander Warden at the front of the group.

“Stop those familiars,” he ordered. “They’re wanted for treason against the queen.”

Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert were running for the ring of walled-off training grounds. “Oh, boy, there goes my tail,” Gilbert said.

Aldwyn looked over to see that the furry dog tail had shrunk back into Gilbert’s butt, and the tree frog was beginning to return to his normal size.

The three animals stayed close as bolts of magic went whizzing by them. A young wizard made a diving leap, reaching out to grab Aldwyn. But just as his fingers took hold of the cat’s tail, he was shot back by a wand blast.

Aldwyn turned to see Jack, with his wand outstretched. Dalton and Marianne were at his side.

“Aldwyn, what are you doing here?” Jack asked. “Does this have something to do with Yeardley?”

“No, the search for my sister got slightly sidetracked,” Aldwyn replied.

“What’s Commander Warden talking about?” Jack continued. “What treason against the queen?”

“We’ve been framed,” Aldwyn replied. “They think we tried to kill Loranella. And the only way to clear our names is by saving her.”