Free The Familiars by Adam Jay Epstein Page A

over her shoulder, striking the metal cellar hasp and encasing it in a thick layer of rust. The loyals and familiars spun to see that the bolt had come from Loranella, who while engaged in the standoff with Kalstaff had been able to use a ring on her other hand to cast the spell. Marianne tried to pull the doors open anyway, but the queen’s rusting bond held fast.
    “Skylar, I need some ground glow worm,” said Dalton. “It’s the only thing that can eat through the rust.”
    Skylar immediately dove her beak into her leather satchel and began rummaging for the necessary vial.
    “It’s not here,” she said with a look of confusion.
    “What do you mean, it’s not there?” asked Dalton.
    Before Skylar could answer, Jack spoke up sheepishly. “I borrowed it.” All eyes turned tohim. “I’m sorry. I was trying to make my marbles glow in the dark. But there’s still some left over. It’s in my pouch. On the nightstand.”
    Everybody’s eyes turned back toward the cottage and the perils that lay between.
    “It’s too dangerous,” said Marianne. “There’s no way any of us could make it there and back unharmed.”
    “Aldwyn can do it,” said Jack.
    It took Aldwyn a moment to realize what Jack had suggested. “I can?” he asked out loud.
    Right then, the queen used her free hand to shoot forth another ring blast, this one intended to burn the young wizards alive. Dalton conjured a swirl of wind to lift a fallen everwillow branch from the ground to intercept it. Upon contact, the branch exploded in a shower of flaming wood chips.
    “Aldwyn, go!” pleaded Jack as he took cover from the raining embers.
    Aldwyn thought he was much too young to die a heroic death, but what else was there to do? Besides, if there was one thing he was good at, it was running. And so the alley cat turned familiarran—right between the legs of the guard with the battle-axe, who was now fighting the two halves of the spiked club—just beneath the concentrated waves of energy radiating from Kalstaff’s rod and Loranella’s rings, as the two wizards remained locked in deadly battle—and straight for the front door of the cottage.
    Miraculously, Aldwyn got there unharmed. Once inside, he darted down the hall to the bedrooms. He didn’t stop until he arrived at Jack and Marianne’s room. There, sitting beside the globe, was Jack’s pouch. Aldwyn jumped atop the cot before leaping to the nightstand, where he snatched the leather bag in his teeth. Now all he had to do was go back the way he had come.
    As he took a deep breath in preparation for another mad dash, he felt a hot tickle brush from his nostrils all the way into his throat. He realized that the room was beginning to fill with smoke, and that the ceiling was on fire. One of Loranella’s ring blasts must have set the cottage ablaze. Aldwyn high-tailed it for the hall, but before he reached the exit, one of the flame-licked ceiling beams collapsed, knocking the bedroomdoor clean off its hinges and toppling toward him. Aldwyn slid beneath it, narrowly avoiding the burning wall of wood.
    With Jack’s pouch secured in his mouth, he ran down the hallway and found the living room had become a crackling inferno, making the smithy’s furnace seem cool by comparison. Clay shingles were dropping through the ceiling, shattering as they hit the ground below. The hammocks, once hanging peacefully, now looked like flaming spiderwebs, ready to grab Aldwyn in their tangle of burning rope. But he dodged the obstacles before bounding out through the doorway.
    He immediately saw that the situation outside had gotten significantly worse. Kalstaff had been forced to his knees and was struggling mightily to fight back the queen’s relentless onslaught of magic. In his weakening state, Kalstaff’s ability to control the floating weapons had diminished enough for the soldiers to gain the upper hand. Only the halberd remained fighting, with the club and trident fallen. Two of Loranella’s