The Familiars (8 page)

The three young wizards groaned in protest and then sat down in the clover, preparing for a far less thrilling part of their walkabout. Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert came out from their hiding place. They tiptoed past the captured gundabeast to sneak a closer look.

“You messed with the wrong bunch of wizards and familiars,” said Gilbert cockily.

The gundabeast lunged forward with a grunt, and Gilbert leaped back in a panic, landing on his rear. Aldwyn and Skylar burst out laughing.

“What? I tripped,” said Gilbert. Which made them laugh even harder.

By the time the group had returned to Stone Runlet, night had fallen, and with the moon yet to rise, even the dimmest stars were visible. Swirls of flickering lights colored the sky, as if the star gods themselves had painted the heavens with fireflies.
Kalstaff led his students and their familiars out from the woods and back toward the cottage.

The whole walk back home, Aldwyn had been lost in thought. If it hadn’t been for Jack’s bravery and Dalton’s wind spell, the gundabeast would have flattened him into a cat pancake. Aldwyn was starting to realize that being a familiar came with its fair share of occupational hazards, but fortunately what seemed insurmountable for a cat or a blue jay or a frog could be handled with ease by the simple wave of a wizard’s wand. He decided always to stick very close to Kalstaff and his three apprentices—especially Jack.

As the group passed the fire pit, Dalton turned to Jack. “Looks like we need some fresh wood for supper,” he said. “Come give me a hand.”

“I’ll go refill the canteens,” said Marianne.

Just then, a bright light in the sky caught everyone’s attention. They all looked up and saw three shooting stars twisting around each other, ripping through the blackness above. The few clouds in the sky faded away, making sure everybody could see the trio of stars tango overhead. He didn’t know why he knew, but Aldwyn was sure that
what they were witnessing was an omen.

“Shooting stars!” said Jack. “Three of them.”

The wizards and their familiars watched as the shooting stars fell somewhere just beyond Stone Runlet. Out of the corner of his eye, Aldwyn saw that Kalstaff, for a moment, appeared very upset, his whole demeanor changing. Seeing a look of such grave concern on the powerful wizard’s face sent a shiver down Aldwyn’s spine, all the way to the tip of his tail. But before anyone else caught a glimpse of the old spellcaster’s worry, Kalstaff was smiling again.

“Come along, everyone,” he said calmly. “We’ll eat indoors tonight.”

As Kalstaff quickly brought his three young students inside, only Aldwyn saw the wizard glance back and look anxiously at the horizon one last time.

6

MIDNIGHT VISITORS

I
n the middle of the night, Aldwyn was woken by the heavy wooden door to the bedroom swinging open with a bang. He lifted his head from where it had been nestled next to Jack’s side. His instincts told him there was danger in the air, and indeed, a moment later Kalstaff was moving toward them with an intense but measured urgency.

“Children, wake up,” commanded the old wizard. “We must go at once.”

Marianne stirred immediately.

“What’s going on?” she asked, scooping up a still-sleeping Gilbert from the pillow at the foot of her bed and retrieving her pocket scrolls from the wooden nightstand.

Kalstaff’s knotty fingers reached out and shook Jack’s shoulder.

“Now, Jack,” he said firmly.

Jack’s legs slid over, his feet coming to rest on the floor. He was still half asleep, not yet fully aware of the tenseness of the situation. Aldwyn sprang to his feet, his ears focused on a low rumbling in the distance.

“I can hear hooves in the sky,” said Kalstaff. “I fear that danger is coming sooner than I expected.”

Dalton appeared in the doorway with Skylar on his shoulder. She looked alert and ready for whatever was to come, carrying her leather satchel over her wing.

“Where are we going?” asked Dalton. “How many days’ supplies will we need?”

“We’re just heading across the meadow to the cellar,” said Kalstaff. “Come on.”

Kalstaff ushered the apprentice wizards from
the room, leaving them no time to change out of their sleeping shirts or even put on their slippers.

“I thought Kalstaff didn’t like to disturb the natural sleep cycle,” Aldwyn said to Skylar, frightened by the midnight escape.

“He doesn’t.” This did little to reassure him.

Aldwyn’s heart was racing. The pounding in his chest began the moment he’d been wrenched from his peaceful slumber, and now it had reached a flat-out sprint. He stayed close to Jack as the boy staggered out of the room and down the hall. Gilbert had buried himself in Marianne’s shirt pocket, his bulging eyes just peeking out over the edge.

In the living room, the wizards made some hasty emergency preparations. Kalstaff extended his hand and his rod flew off the table directly into his waiting palm. Marianne grabbed the lightning bug hive. Skylar glided from Dalton’s shoulder down to a low-lying metal rack where she began filling her satchel with tiny glass vials containing different spell components.

Aldwyn could hear Gilbert muttering to himself from inside Marianne’s pocket.

“Go to your happy place,” he rambled in a mild panic. “A mosquito-filled swamp.” But it didn’t seem to help: Aldwyn could still hear the tree frog’s rapid breathing.

Before leading his pupils from the cottage, Kalstaff stopped in front of the ancient weapons secured to the wall and unfastened the bronze clamps holding the spiked club, trident, and halberd in place. Then he turned back for the door, leaving the sharpened blades on the wall.

“Aren’t we taking them?” asked Jack.

Without reply, Kalstaff led the young wizards and their familiars outside.

A full moon was now hanging high in the sky, casting an eerie bluish light across the land. The tall grass swaying in the wind resembled stormy ocean waves. Kalstaff pointed across to the other side of the meadow, where two closed iron doors marked the entryway to the cellar.

“Quick,” said Kalstaff. “We’ll be safe there.”

They hurried across the cottage grounds, Marianne using the lightning bug hive to light their path. Stone Runlet, which had seemed so comforting and peaceful when Aldwyn had first
arrived there, now was surrounded by the threat of an oncoming menace.

“If what we’re running from is so dangerous, how will two metal doors protect us?” asked Marianne.

“There’s more to that old earthen chamber than dilled apples and jugs of persimmon wine,” said Kalstaff. “My father built it during the days of the Black March, back when I was a boy. He lined the inside with alabaster and sealed the walls with warding spells. These magic defenses protected my parents and sisters when I was off fighting against the Dead Army Hordes. It will do the same for us.”

He urged them on, but they hadn’t even gotten halfway across the meadow when a steady gallop of thunderclaps could be heard in the sky to the northeast. Aldwyn looked up to see four spectral creatures coming toward them over the trees, horses that seemed to be formed out of translucent green energy. Through the sky they rode, cantering along a ghostly stone path that materialized before them and disappeared again once the last hoof was lifted from it. Atop the phantom
stallions sat four riders, their identities hidden by the sinister darkness.

“Run!” said Kalstaff.

Jack, Marianne, and Dalton didn’t have to be told twice. Aldwyn, terrified by the presence of evil in the atmosphere, bounded alongside them as their bare feet kicked up clouds of dust from the ground. Gilbert ducked even further out of view, as if the linen fabric of Marianne’s shirt would keep him out of harm’s reach. But the cellar doors were too far away; Aldwyn realized that they would never make it there in time.

And indeed seconds later, the first horse, ridden by a slender figure wearing a charcoal robe, touched the ground. The other three landed right behind—soldiers outfitted in helmets, bronze vests of chain mail, and spiked armbands. Kalstaff stepped forward and held his arm out protectively, keeping himself between the unwanted visitors and his young pupils.

Green sparks ran up the legs of the spectral steeds and crackled down their manes and tails. The creatures smelled like a mixture of wet fur and the sky after a lightning storm. As the riders
dismounted, the steeds seemed to fold in on themselves, becoming smaller and smaller until they were tiny balls of electrical energy—which then, with a pop, vanished into thin air.

The leader of the group stepped forward, folding the hood back from her head. Beneath it was revealed a distinguished-looking older woman, vibrant and strong for one as aged as she. She wore a band of platinum and gold across her forehead, rings with gems of shimmering colors on her fingers, and an ornately carved wooden bracelet around her wrist. Aldwyn could have sworn he’d seen her somewhere before. But where?

Kalstaff lowered his arm.

“Loranella,” he said with a note of relief in his voice.

Of course! Aldwyn now recognized the woman as the queen. She had grown older since her face had been sculpted into the marble statue standing before Bridgetower’s House of Trials, but her regal poise was still unmistakable.

“What brings you here at such an hour, my dear old friend? I thought you were ill,” continued Kalstaff.

“Rumors of my sickness have been greatly overstated,” replied the queen.

“I wish you had shot me a messenger arrow before your arrival. You gave us all quite a scare.”

“That was certainly not my intention. I apologize.”

Kalstaff’s shoulders relaxed, and the tension and worry that had gripped the wizards and familiars only moments ago was replaced by awe and respect for Vastia’s great ruler, who was standing just a few feet from them. Gilbert decided to emerge from his hiding place and hop all the way down to the ground; Skylar meanwhile was rocking back and forth with excitement on Dalton’s shoulder.

“To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” asked Kalstaff with a smile. “And since when did you start riding spectral steeds again? We haven’t done that since the Uprising.”

“The royal carriage is so formal. It just didn’t feel like me anymore.”

“Is it true what they say?” asked Jack, wide-eyed with wonder. “Did you really behead the dark mages, Wyvern and Skull, with only two
swings of your sword?”

Queen Loranella knelt down and looked at Jack, nose to nose.

“No. I did it with just one.”

Jack’s eyes grew even wider.

The queen stood tall again, and her gaze moved from Jack to Marianne and then to Dalton.

“So you are Kalstaff’s three pupils,” said the queen. “Word in Vastia’s wizarding circles is that great things lie in your futures.” Aldwyn could see Dalton straighten with pride, an expression mirrored by Skylar, who perched proudly on his shoulder. “Which is why I’m here,” she concluded, gently pushing the hair out of Jack’s eyes with a smile. There was something very wrong with that smile, Aldwyn thought. Then Loranella spoke again, and all of his worst fears came true. “Guards,” the queen said coolly. “Kill them.”

Aldwyn didn’t want to believe his ears, and from the look on Kalstaff’s face, neither did the old wizard. But that didn’t stop him from aiming the glass tip of his rod at his three apprentices. “
Shieldarum resisto
!” Kalstaff shouted, and suddenly, three large but delicate bubbles, looking
as if they had just been washed off a bar of soap, were spinning through the air.

But before they reached Jack, Marianne, and Dalton, the queen pointed one of her rings at them. She flicked her finger and the ring shot out a trio of ruby needles that popped each of the protective spells in midair.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Loranella said, wagging her finger from side to side, clearly amused by Kalstaff’s feeble attempt. Then she turned to her soldiers. “What are you waiting for? The prophecy ends here.”

The guards advanced on Jack, Marianne, and Dalton, readying their blades. Seeing one of the soldiers’ chipped battle swords glint in the moonlight snapped Marianne out of her paralysis. As the soldier prepared to strike, she chanted, “Lich’s eye, dragon’s belly, turn that sword into jelly!”

The weapon made contact with Jack’s shoulder, splattering his white shirt with globs of red. The sight gave Aldwyn a severe shock, tightening his chest and making him go weak in the legs.

“I’m bleeding!” cried Jack.

“No, that’s just strawberry,” said Marianne, as
the guard lifted the hilt of his sword. The blade was gone, having been transformed into jelly. Aldwyn breathed a sigh of relief; Jack was okay, for now at least.

The other two soldiers wasted no time and charged forth with their deadly blades held over their heads. The first one tossed aside what was left of his weapon and removed a double-headed battle-axe that was strapped to his back.

“Get to the cellar,” Kalstaff shouted. He closed his eyes and beckoned the spiked club, trident, and halberd from the cottage. The pole arms crashed through the window and flew into the fray, defending the young wizards against the attacking guards as if wielded by unseen hands.