15

TORENTIA FALLS

“So, is your name even Aldwyn?” asked Gilbert.

“Of course it is,” he answered, glad that somebody was talking to him.

It was the third day’s late afternoon, and the familiars were now trekking northward toward the Torentia Falls, a slippery, treacherous, and, worst of all, time-consuming detour—one that Aldwyn felt more than a little guilty about.

“If you’re not from Maidenmere, where are you from?” continued Gilbert.

“I’m an alley cat from Bridgetower.”

“Well, should we be forced to rummage through garbage, you’ll be the first we ask for help,” said Skylar, acknowledging him for the first time since they’d left Maidenmere.

“Okay, I deserved that,” Aldwyn said. “But my lowly upbringing has gotten us out of quite a bit of trouble on this journey.”

“We would have been just fine without you,” replied Skylar, holding her beak high stubbornly.

“Really? Who thought of hitching that ride on the horse cart? Or throwing the three-leaf clover in the octopot? Or getting us past the Mountain Alchemist’s invisible wall?”

“But none of that changes the fact you’re not a familiar,” said Skylar simply. “You can’t do anything magical.”

“I can make fish disappear,” said Aldwyn, trying to lighten the mood.

Gilbert giggled, unable to stay angry at his friend. That didn’t seem to be a problem for Skylar, though.

“Well, the good news is it won’t be difficult for you to find your way back home,” said Skylar.

“Why’s that?” asked Aldwyn.

“Because this is the Ebs,” she said, gesturing to the top of the waterfall. “It loops all the way back around the Peaks of Kailasa, straight past the Turn, and down to the walls of Bridgetower.”

It looked as if Aldwyn would not be changing Skylar’s mind after all: she and Gilbert would be continuing on to the Sunken Palace, while he would be setting off in the opposite direction on his own. Perhaps he would return to Bridgetower to scavenge the streets he knew so well, or maybe he’d explore a new city along the way, one where food might be easier to come by. Tammy would probably welcome him for as long as he cared to stay at the inn. But then he thought of Jack, and his tail curled involuntarily, the same way it did the very first time his loyal touched him. The boy’s life was still in danger, and Aldwyn knew that there was no way he would be able to go back to his old life. He had promised to take care of Jack, and he would be true to his promise, magic or no magic.

While Aldwyn was thinking about the best way to talk Skylar into letting him continue with them, the animals had come to the rocky bank of the rapids. A series of slick boulders and fallen trees made a path to the other side. Farther down the river, they could hear the sound of the Ebs rushing over the edge of the falls and crashing to the unseen rocks below.

“We’re lucky the rains have been so light,” said Skylar. “Otherwise this would not be crossable.”

She flew ahead as Gilbert and Aldwyn hopped from stone to log. Splashes of cold water landed on Aldwyn’s fur. The crossing would have been smooth if Gilbert had only looked down to see the small patch of algae covering his stepping-stone. Unfortunately his eyes were already measuring the distance to the next rock, and his webbed foot slipped. As Gilbert’s belly hit the stone, Jack’s pouch jostled around his neck, flipping upside down, which wouldn’t have been a problem had it not been for the hole Agdaleen had punctured through its top with the fire poker. Aldwyn watched as the vial of sleeping powder slid through the opening. The glass tube bounced off the rock before plunking into the water.

“Gilbert, the sleeping powder!” shouted Aldwyn over the sound of the fast-flowing water.

Skylar heard Aldwyn and caught sight of the glass tube as it was drifting rapidly downstream.

Aldwyn began jumping from rock to rock, attempting to catch up to it. Skylar swooped low, but the bobbing vial remained just out of her reach.

Gilbert was back on all fours and frantically chasing the powder in order to make up for his clumsiness.

“It’s moving too fast,” shouted Skylar, swooping down again and again as the vial gathered speed and headed straight for the falls. The water was roaring now, white with foam, and it was almost impossible to keep track of the precious container. Aldwyn had leaped down the river all the way to the last slippery rock before the falls. He was just a few tail lengths away from the giant drop. Then he saw the vial.

“I see it!” he exclaimed. “I think I can catch it.” He stretched out his paw to snag the glass tube, but it proved as difficult as fishing an ant out of a bowl of milk. It was at moments like this that he wished he had fingers and thumbs. The vial bounced off his paw, briefly slowed, changed direction, drifted on—and was caught by the branch of a drooping tree.

“Oh, thank goodness,” cried Skylar. She soared down, and Aldwyn watched her land on the branch. But before she could bend over and grip the vial with her beak, the wood snapped, sending Skylar splashing into the water. Aldwyn reached out to grab the blue jay, but it was too late: both Skylar and the vial went tumbling over the falls. In his last-ditch attempt to help Skylar, Aldwyn’s hind legs slipped and he went sliding toward the churning waters. Gilbert tried to catch him before he fell, but instead went tumbling in with Aldwyn. Both were swept over the edge of the waterfall.

Aldwyn was spinning through the air in free fall, seeing the mist below and Gilbert just above him. He seemed to fall for an eternity before he hit the water hard and went deep into the pool. When his head came up from the water, he could see a limp Skylar bobbing slowly downstream. Gilbert surfaced just a moment after Aldwyn did.

“The vial!” exclaimed Gilbert as if it were a miracle. “I see it.”

“I’m going to get Skylar,” said Aldwyn over the roar of the water behind them. “You go after the sleeping powder.”

Aldwyn paddled toward Skylar, who was struggling to keep her head from going under once more. When he got close enough, Aldwyn reached out and clamped down on her neck with his mouth, firm enough to get a good grip but gentle enough so as not to hurt her. With Skylar held between his teeth, Aldwyn let himself drift against the shore, where he dragged her onto dry land.

“Skylar, are you okay?” he asked.

She coughed up some water.

“Where’s Gilbert?” she asked. “What happened to the sleeping powder?”

“I got it. It’s right here,” wheezed Gilbert, hopping to their side and collapsing to the ground, completely out of breath.

Skylar winced in pain as she sat up. “Ow, my wing. I think it’s broken.”

“Try not to move it,” said Aldwyn.

“This is terrible,” she said. “I won’t be able to fly, and since you lied about your magical talent, we’ll have no way of getting the powder into the hydra’s eyes.” Skylar shook her head, looking defeated for the first time.

“You know,” said Aldwyn after a minute of silence, “I might not have telekinesis, but I’m pretty good at climbing things.”

“Living things?” asked Skylar.

“I jumped on the back of a butcher once,” said Aldwyn.

“Living things with seven heads that will try to kill you?” asked Skylar again.

“That would be new for me.”

Gilbert looked to the blue jay with pleading eyes.

“Come on, admit it,” he said. “We can’t do this alone. We need Aldwyn’s help.”

“Fine,” Skylar said after a short pause. “I don’t really see any other option.”

Skylar got to her feet and hobbled forward. Gilbert hopped along with her. Aldwyn just stood there—had he heard her correctly?

“Well?” asked Skylar, turning back. “What are you waiting for?”

Aldwyn immediately ran up beside them. He had been accepted back into the fellowship. And this time, he would not have to pretend to have skills he didn’t have. He only hoped that the talents he had acquired on the streets of Bridgetower would not fail him.

The land had taken on a golden glow, and the sun was nearing the horizon as the familiars hurried to beat the approaching sunset. Aldwyn was certain that Queen Loranella was watching the sun, too, waiting patiently for the last rays of light to disappear.