“The last time I saw Galleon, things didn’t end well,” said Banshee. “What if he still holds a grudge? What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me or this mission?”
“Then the world is lost,” said Skylar, jumping in.
Orion reached the western edge of Split River and galloped over a bridge that connected the two halves of the port town. A lighthouse just offshore illuminated the nearby waters, which had a slew of derelict vessels stranded along its banks. Banshee knew the way to the Inn of the Golden Chalice, and she directed Orion there.
The streets were mostly deserted at this late hour, save for a few sludge diggers in filth-covered overalls who had fallen asleep on the sidewalk lining the city’s row of drinking establishments. The animals arrived at the inn to find the tavern closed for the night and a sign reading NO VACANCIES on the front door.
“Banshee, do you know what room Galleon stays in?” asked Skylar. “I could fly up and peck at his window.”
“His room doesn’t have a window,” said Banshee. “Not much of a view from the basement. There’s another entrance in the back, though.”
Banshee gestured to a skinny alleyway between the inn and a neighboring building, and Orion trotted toward it. As they got nearer, a voice could be heard singing.
“Now I hold my nose / as the foul smell grows / that’s the life of cleaning chamber pots.”
As the companions turned the corner, they saw Galleon, dressed in a flannel nightshirt and apron, long underwear, and boots, standing next to a stack of porcelain bowls. He was dumping their contents into a hole in the ground while wincing from the stench.
“Hello, old friend,” said Banshee.
Startled, Galleon dropped the pot he was holding, sending brown sludge splashing all over his boots. He looked up at Banshee, who was climbing down from Orion.
“Banshee,” said Galleon. “And the rest of the … zoo. What are you doing here?”
“We’re on a mission to save the queendom, and we need your help.”
“My help?” he asked. “Do the Knights of the Realm need their bedsheets changed?”
“Paksahara’s Dead Army has destroyed two of the three glyphstones,” Banshee told him. “The only way to stop her is to gather the seven descendants around the last glyphstone. As far as we know, it remains standing, outside of Bronzhaven.”
“That still doesn’t answer why you’ve come to me,” said Galleon.
“We need a wizard to complete the circle, and retrieving your magic seems to be the only way to do that.”
Galleon shook his head and turned his back on the howler monkey.
“You said it yourself. I’m a fool. You’ll be better off with anyone else.”
“Cleaning pots and mopping floors. This isn’t you, Galleon.” Banshee walked around to meet her loyal’s eyes once more. “The only thing that would be foolish is resigning yourself to this for the rest of your life. Come with us. Take back the magic you lost. Be the wizard I know you can be.”
“I think you gave me that same speech three years ago. It didn’t work then.... It’s not working now.”
But Banshee didn’t give up. “I never stopped being your familiar, you know.”
Galleon seemed to consider this for a moment. Then his shoulders slumped again.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t be the hero you want me to be.”
Just then, from the inn, the barkeep’s voice called out: “Galleon, what’s taking you so long? Go get your mop. Looks like Big Jim got food poisoning again.”
Hearing this, Galleon untied his apron and tossed it to the ground. “All right. So what do I have to do?”
The animals traveled with Galleon to a cliff that hugged the Ebs. They crouched low to the ground and looked out from the cliff edge at a majestic yacht floating in the river amid the broken masts of drowned ships.
“Coriander sails his yacht through Split River Harbor once a day,” said Galleon. “Just to spite me, I’m sure. I know he’s got some muscle on board. Elvin pirates. They come to the inn to drink and chuck tomatoes at me during my act. If you see one with a big scar under his eye, just know that he’s got a really good throwing arm. Especially for somebody so little.”
“We’ll have to find a way to sail as close to the yacht as we can without being seen,” Skylar said. “Then board it from the stern.” She pointed to the back of the ship, where two of the pirates guarded a single rope ladder that led down to the water.
Banshee related the information to Galleon.
“Still the same know-it-all,” said Galleon with a smile to Skylar. “You and Dalton always had that in common.” Then he turned to the others. “I know where we can get a boat. There’s a fisherman who frequents the tavern, and every night he sleeps off his cider on the inn floor. He never makes it back to his dinghy until morning. I’m sure he won’t notice if it’s gone.”
“Let’s go get your magic back,” said Banshee.
They all rose to their feet. Aldwyn was careful to avoid stepping too close to the edge of the cliff.
“I’m afraid I can’t let that happen,” said Orion.
The others turned to see the lightmare staring at Galleon with a strange look in his eyes.
“Orion,” said Gilbert. “What’s going on?”
The lightmare lowered his head and began to gallop toward them. Everyone was too stunned to react. All Galleon could do was brace himself for the collision that would surely send him over the edge.
“The circle will never be complete,” shouted Orion as he charged.
15
SLEIGHT OF HAND
Aldwyn strained his mind, lifting a nearby log and hurling it in the path of the oncoming stallion. It hit the lightmare, but instead of slowing him down, Orion crashed straight through it. Just before the horse barreled into the human, Marati conjured an astral claw and pushed Galleon out of the way. Orion dug in his hooves and came to a skidding halt, but the force of Marati’s push sent Galleon flying. His body rolled off the cliff—but at the last second, his fingers grabbed onto the edge, preventing his fall.
Orion turned to charge again, determined to finish what he had started. Skylar flew up to him and began tugging at his saddlebag. Simeon, too, leaped up and clamped down hard on Orion’s tail in an attempt to distract him, while Gilbert and Aldwyn tried in vain to hold back the lightmare’s legs.
“Let go of me or I will kill you all,” said Orion.
“Why are you doing this?” screamed Gilbert.
“We trusted you,” squawked Skylar.
“Animals will rule once more,” said Orion with a frightening coldness in his voice.
The animals had gained enough time to allow Banshee to rush to Galleon’s side and pull her loyal to safety.
Orion lowered his nose, and as Aldwyn watched, the lightmare’s hooves began to spark with energy. He knew there would be no way to stop this mountain of strength.
Skylar tugged with all her might at the saddlebag, ripping the strap just as the horse started galloping toward Galleon again. The bag hit the ground, the collected artifacts spilled out—and Orion froze in his tracks, a look of utter confusion on his face.
“What happened?” he asked. “Where am I?”
Everyone looked at the lightmare as if he was crazy.
“You just tried to kill Galleon,” said a very cautious Gilbert.
“I feel as if I just woke from a dream,” said Orion.
“More like a nightmare,” said Aldwyn.
“Look at this,” called Skylar from where the relics had fallen.
She was staring at the brown brick Orion had collected in the Abyssmal Canyon. On it was imprinted the image of Brannfalk’s throne, the back and headrest carved in the shape of a blossoming tree.
“It’s the brick from the Bridge of Betrayal,” said Aldwyn.
Skylar turned to Orion. “Since you picked it up in the Abyssmal Canyon, you’ve slowly been infected by its curse.”
Orion looked away.
It appeared he was searching his own memory.
“My mind is cloudy. I only remember fragments … scattering the neveryawn nuts in the Abyssmal Canyon … and Lothar, I released him from his chains. I must not have been of sound mind.”
The lightmare hung his head in sorrow.
“Gilbert, Aldwyn, and I have all felt the pull of the Bridge,” said Skylar. “You can’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could have known.”
She continued to stare at the brick.
“To think that a brick that had fallen into the gorge when we crossed the Bridge would come back to haunt us now,” she said, deep in thought.
The others might have been relieved that Orion’s apparent betrayal had been caused by an innocuous-looking brick, but Aldwyn felt a pang of guilt for having suspected Skylar of being the traitor in their midst. How could he have let his imagination get the better of him? She was an ally to the end.
“We’re just fortunate that the leather strap of Orion’s saddlebag tore when it did,” said Marati.
“Thanks to our good luck charm,” said Navid, looking over to Anura, who blushed in response. Aldwyn could see that Gilbert was none too pleased with their ongoing flirtation.
“Well, come on, everyone,” said Banshee. “What’s done is done here. We’ve got an old score to settle. Isn’t that right, Galleon?”
The wizard nodded, appearing emboldened, as if the failed attempt on his life had given him back some of his old heroism.
The familiars and descendants walked up to Orion, but before they remounted him, the lightmare bent down on his two front knees.
“My deepest and sincerest apologies,” he said. “From this point forth, I will never betray you again.”
At this moment Aldwyn felt for the first time that he was part of a true circle of heroes. Not because the animals were flawless or always brave, but because each was determined to do what was within their power to help good triumph over evil.
“We’ll be waiting here,” said Orion, knowing they could not climb the rope ladder. He stood beside Simeon on the riverbank, wishing the others well.
The rest of the companions boarded the abandoned dinghy, which was beached partway up the muddy shore. Orion gave the boat a push into the river, and Galleon began to row toward Coriander’s yacht, trying to avoid the overturned sailing vessels that filled the harbor. It was like crossing an aquatic graveyard, only instead of tombstones, torn sails and broken masts jutted out as reminders of what once had been.
They all remained silent, knowing full well how far sound carried over water. Most of the other sailors on this section of the river were not so intent on keeping their whereabouts unknown. A party was under way on a half-sunken skiff; Aldwyn could hear revelers clapping along to accordions and bag flutes, seemingly unconcerned by the crisis Vastia was facing. Farther along, another boat held equally rowdy passengers, who were standing at the rail firing arrows at seagulls flying overhead. As they drew close to Coriander’s yacht, Aldwyn silently wondered if Split River would have been plagued by the same lawlessness and disorder if Galleon had retained his magic and stayed on as the town wizard.
Over the low metal railing surrounding the deck of Coriander’s huge yacht, Aldwyn could see the tops of the elvin pirates’ heads. The little buccaneers might have been fearsome foes, but their diminutive stature made them easy to sneak up on.
The ladder that Skylar had spotted earlier stretched down to the water. Galleon pointed out the two elvin pirates still guarding it, then nodded to Marati. The mongoose used her astral claws to push the pair of guards over the railing and into the water.
Next, Galleon lashed a rope around the ship’s ladder, tying it taut. He ran up the ladder and the animals followed. Banshee held Navid and Marati back.
“You two man the boat while we’re gone,” she whispered.
“Us?” asked Marati. “No way. I’m not staying here with him. I’d rather curl up in an ogre’s old boot.”
“That’s appropriate, because you smell like one,” said Navid.
“We don’t have time for this right now!” Banshee swung up the ladder before the cobra and the mongoose could complain further.
Aldwyn looked back to see Marati walk to one side of the dinghy, while Navid slithered to the opposite side.
As soon as Aldwyn, Gilbert, Anura, and Banshee climbed over the railing and Skylar flew onto the deck, four elvin pirates armed with knives and miniature pitchforks came storming out of the galley with food still in their mouths.
“I think you all came aboard the wrong boat,” said one of the pirates. “The Cyrus Brothers Traveling Animal Show left harbor weeks ago.”
The other pirates let out a gruff laugh. Their smiles quickly disappeared when Aldwyn telekinetically untied some rigging above them, sending a large wooden pulley crashing down on their heads.
The pirates flew into a rage, swinging haphazardly as they attacked. The fight took place so fast, it was hard for Aldwyn to keep track of it all. He looked to the left and saw Banshee disappear; to his right, Skylar was raising her wings. The next thing he knew, Banshee had materialized behind one of the pirates and was whacking him over the head with her drum, sending the little man facedown onto the deck. Then from over the side of the yacht came a murkman—a mud-and-algae-covered humanoid with webbed fingers and river sludge dripping from his gills. An elvin pirate lunged for the river monster with his pitchfork, but unfortunately for him, he had been fooled by Skylar’s illusion and his momentum carried him right over the railing. A second later Aldwyn heard a splash as the pirate hit the water.
Only one pirate remained and Aldwyn noticed the big scar under his left eye. This was the ruffian Galleon had warned them about. The pirate reached into a bucket and lived up to his reputation, viciously chucking empty bottles at the former wizard. Although he had no magic powers to rely on, Galleon demonstrated an almost supernatural ability to avoid being hit.
“When you have an act as bad as mine, you get used to dodging things that are thrown at you,” he remarked.
Aldwyn telekinetically stopped one of the bottles flying toward Galleon and sent it back. It hurtled through the air and smacked the pirate hard in the head, knocking him unconscious.
Just then the remaining three wooden pulleys gave way. They dropped with such great force that Aldwyn and his companions smashed straight through the deck. They fell two decks down, crashing on the floor of an opulent bedroom. Sitting on an equally opulent bed, a dashingly handsome young man and a beautiful young lady stared at the intruders.
“Talk about a fortuitous fall,” said Galleon. “That’s him.”
The animals looked at Anura.
“What can I say?” asked the golden toad. “Things like this just happen around me.”
Coriander jumped to his feet and pulled a jewel-encrusted scimitar out from beneath his pillow.
“Ah, Galleon. I expected to see you sooner.”
“You have something that belongs to me,” said Galleon.
“Are you referring to this?” asked Coriander, revealing a vial filled with what looked like a whirlwind of smoke, hanging from a chain around his neck. “Or this?” he added, gesturing to the girl.
“I am here for my magic.”
“Sounds like a rematch,” said Coriander.
“Good. Perhaps it will be a fair fight this time around,” said Galleon.
“Oh, I never said anything about it being fair,” replied Coriander. “I suppose you’ve always wondered how I was so powerful when we first dueled. It was thanks to a little spice my father discovered off the coast of the Wildecape Sea. It’s called fablehoot. And it makes you capable of things you never thought possible.”
Coriander opened a small ivory box on the nightstand and took a pinch of the orange spice, bringing it to his mouth. Once he swallowed, his eyes began to shimmer with a silvery hue.
“Wow! That feels good.”
Coriander cracked his knuckles and started circling Galleon.
Banshee took a step forward into the fray, but his loyal held him back.
“No,” he said. “This fight is mine and mine alone.”
Aldwyn and the others stood back and watched. They had barely blinked before Coriander was on top of Galleon, with the scimitar at his throat. He had moved with inhuman speed.
“Well, this isn’t going to be any fun,” said Coriander.
Coriander flipped the weapon upside down and, instead of slicing Galleon’s throat, struck him on the side of his head with the brass handle. He jumped back up and gave Galleon a moment to regain his wits and his footing. Galleon wasn’t standing for more than a few seconds before Coriander was hitting him with a flurry of lightning-fast punches that sent the young wizard reeling once again. Galleon fell back on the bed. He wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and turned to Delilah.
“Hello, my love,” he said, as Coriander pulled him up by his shirt collar and flung him across the room. The airborne Galleon smashed into an ornate bookcase, sending it crashing to the floor.
“Think your chambermaid salary will be able to pay for that?” asked Coriander, mocking his foe.
Galleon brushed off the blow and attempted a running tackle on Coriander, but he was swatted away like an annoying fly.
“Every day as I sail this vessel through the Split River Harbor, I sit here and laugh at you.” Coriander stalked up to Galleon. “Had enough yet?”
He kicked the former wizard in each side.
“Coriander, stop!” cried Delilah.
Coriander ignored her. He thrust his knee into Galleon’s chin. Despite his opponent’s spice-enhanced fighting skills, Galleon put Coriander in a headlock. But he had his arm around his enemy’s neck for only a second before he was thrown back across the room.
“Now that was just pathetic,” said Coriander.
Galleon lifted his head up from the floor and smiled.
“What in Vastia’s name are you smiling about?” Coriander cracked his knuckles and sneered down at Galleon.
The young wizard opened the palm of his hand. In it lay the vial.
The Familiars #3: Circle of Heroes Page 13