Palace of Dreams by Adam Jay Epstein

Author:Adam Jay Epstein
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

10

SAND AND STONE

A school of minnows was swimming circles around Aldwyn as he paddled across the relatively calm portion of the Enaj. Skylar was already sitting on the far bank, patiently waiting. And Gilbert had put his days as a waterlogged tadpole to good use, cruising to the other side.

There was a reason cats hated the water. It was cold and wet and made their fur itch. If Aldwyn could have gotten across faster he would have, but without flippers and fins, he was stuck flailing desperately. He took a break on one of the rocks, and Gilbert called out to him.

“Almost there, buddy. You’re doing great.”

“No I’m not. I feel like a dishrag with paws.”

“Remember: paddle, paddle, splashy kicks,” Gilbert said.

Aldwyn restrained a grimace, then noticed something.

“What happened to your locavating map?” he asked.

“I got it,” Gilbert replied. “It’s right here on my back.”

“Actually it’s not,” Aldwyn said. “If it was, I wouldn’t be asking.”

Gilbert reached a webbed hand across his shoulder. He started to feel around in a panic. Then spun his head around.

“What? That’s impossible. Where did it go?”

“You must have lost it in the river,” Skylar said.

“Maybe I should start giving you advice on how to swim,” Aldwyn said.

“Great.” Gilbert sighed. “Not that my locavating was doing us much good anyway.”

Aldwyn slid off the rock, back into the water, and kicked his way across the remainder of the channel until he reached his companions on dry land. He shook off the wetness and, with fur matted to his skin, looked about half his normal size.

“We’ll cut through there,” Skylar said, pointing to the long plains that stretched northeast toward the Yennep Mountains.

“And when we arrive at Turnbuckle Academy?” Gilbert asked. “Either of you given much thought to what we do then?”

“There are five hundred students and just as many familiars there,” Skylar said. “Once we get inside those walls, we’ll have to blend in and steer clear of Dalton, Marianne, and Jack. At least long enough so we can get to Kalstaff’s journals.”

“How will we make it through?” Gilbert asked.

“Illusion, disguise, and a lot of tiptoeing,” Skylar replied.

The familiars left the banks of the Enaj and started heading inland. At the top of a hill they looked down on an enormous valley with thousands of stone chairs in rows of concentric circles, all surrounding a giant gravel pit. Grass had filled most of it in, but there were still crater-size indentations of black rock remaining. A ten-foot-tall sword was buried tip deep in the earth.

“Who would have been big enough to wield a sword like that?” Gilbert asked.

“Fjord Guards,” Skylar replied. “This must have been one of Brannfalk’s battle arenas. They were built all across Vastia to entertain the people during his reign. Warriors of all sizes competed within the rings, testing their skills for the amusement of the audience. Wizards and giants, dragons and elves. The victors would be rewarded with the adulation of the crowds. And the losers . . . well, they were given proper burials.

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