The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown (4 page)

“Any of you want to reconsider?” Paksahara asked the familiars with a sneer.

Ramoth looked to Loranella. “My loyalty had been teetering before,” he said, showing his true colours. “Besides, I never like ending up on the losing side of a battle.” The firescale snake darted out from the stacks and took his place alongside Paksahara.

“Children, run for the front door,” instructed Queen Loranella. “Edna and I will distract the worms.”

The wizards in training and their familiars sprinted for the entrance as the gigantic and clearly very hungry bookworms were bearing down on them. Queen Loranella and Sorceress Edna hurried in the opposite direction, throwing books at the purple beasts to bait them away from the children.

Skylar spread her wings and made a bookshelf stuffed with dusty tomes appear between them and the worms. Aldwyn hoped the illusion would fool the tiny minds of the oversize grubs, or at least buy them a little time.

Dalton flipped open the
Wizard’s Almanac of Fables
as he fled, picking up where Edna had left off, searching the text as fast as he could.

“Dalton, what are you doing?” asked Skylar. “You can read the book later!”

“Not if I don’t make it out of here alive,” he replied.

Just then, a blast of electricity shot over his head, straight through Skylar’s illusion. Apparently, Paksahara had grown impatient with waiting for the worms to finish off her opponents. They took cover behind a bookshelf. “
Niti wengi
,” Dalton read aloud from the Elvish fable. “A great big tree.”

Aldwyn concentrated on a pear-shaped globe on one of the pedestals and flung it across the room, using only his mind. For a second he was quite pleased with his effort, but then Paksahara effortlessly shot it down. She didn’t see the second globe coming from behind her, though, and it momentarily knocked her off her feet.

Aldwyn was starting to feel victorious when a sweat-inducing heat boiled up behind him. He turned to find Ramoth, scales aflame, ready to strike with his searing fangs.“Traitor,” shouted Aldwyn.

“I am a snake after all,” replied Ramoth. He was about to strike, but his attack was thwarted when a splash of water doused the fire burning on his skin.

Jack stood with an empty jug in hand, the one that had fallen from the reading table but fortunately had not spilled all of its contents. Though stripped of his newly blossoming spellcasting abilities, Jack remained cocky in the face of the danger. He gave Ramoth a swift kick that sent him sailing across the room into a pile of scrolls. Aldwyn and his loyal shared a nod. No words were necessary to communicate their bond.

Dalton was still struggling with the foreign text – “The warrior travelled to some kind of tree, one whose branches…” he translated as the battle continued. “I’m not sure what these next words mean.”

And he wasn’t going to have time to figure it out. One of the giant paper-eating grubs shoved its head through the bookshelf and snapped the tome straight out of Dalton’s hand. Even worse, its teeth caught one of his fingers as well, biting it clean off.

Dalton cried out with pain and stumbled away from his attacker. He shoved his injured hand to his chest and tried to stave off the bleeding with his tunic.

The loyals and their familiars tried to make a run for it once more, racing past the aisle of whisper shells as the creature chewed the invaluable book to shreds.

Paksahara was back on her feet, and she seemed quite entertained as she watched one of the other bookworms reach out to swallow Skylar.

“They say the early bird catches the worm,” the hare said, delighted. “This time, it’s the other way round!”

The bookworm was just about to bite down on the blue jay when a splintered stick pierced its throat. Queen Loranella had torn off the bristles and used the sharp end of a broomstick as a spear. She gave the handle a twist, and the beast’s head collapsed limply.

Paksahara flew into a rage. She conjured two massive energy blasts in her palms, then shouted at her opponents – “This was fun. Now prepare to become food for the worms!”

“Food?!” a groggy voice called out. “Is it breakfast already?”

Aldwyn spun round to see that Stolix had finally awakened.

“Quick,” said Edna to her familiar. “Immobilise her!”

Stolix breathed out her paralysing mist, sending the cool vapours right into Paksahara’s nostrils. The hare’s muscles immediately tightened, and she was rendered motionless, a frozen look of anger on her face.

The two remaining giant purple worms encircled Paksahara protectively, preventing the wizards and familiars from attacking the defenceless hare.

“Let’s get out of here,” said the queen. “That spell doesn’t last long.”

Dalton grabbed Scribius off the floor, and then he and the others were running for the door without looking back. If the Archives held any other clues as to the whereabouts of the Crown of the Snow Leopard, they would soon be lost to the digestive juices of the bookworms.

Dalton lay on a slender bed in the Royal Cleric’s chamber as the palace healer’s black raven ran a wing along his arm. During the whole trip back to the New Palace he had clenched his jaw, never once letting on how excruciating the pain must have been. Now Aldwyn watched as the bird’s healing feathers worked their magic. The stump where Dalton’s little finger once was began to puss and ooze as flesh and bone sprang forth, like a newly forming twig on a sapling. Within seconds, it had regenerated itself and looked as good as new.

Across the room, Marianne sat before a fireplace where wood crackled warmly in the hearth, having been lit by flint and stone rather than a magic spell. She traced her finger along a wrinkled parchment map, while Jack spun a pear-shaped globe in one and then the other direction.

“A great big tree,” Marianne repeated. “That only narrows it down to, oh, every forest in Vastia.”

“Could be in the mountains too,” added Jack.

Sorceress Edna let out a sigh of frustration as she paced behind them. “This is bad, very bad. Even worse than before, I’m afraid.”

Aldwyn leaped on to the windowsill and looked outside. Night had fallen, and the moon was beginning to rise up over the Yennep Mountains. It was three-quarters full, just seven days away from reaching the end of its lunar phase, when Paksahara’s grim promise would be fulfilled and a new Dead Army would rise. In the courtyard below, Aldwyn could see Queen Loranella standing with a band of cloaked warriors – some the queen’s finest soldiers, others disenchanted wizards – all beside their steeds. Many were accompanied by their familiars. Among them stood Urbaugh, the bearded spellcaster from the council meeting, and his brother. There had been rumours of suspicious activity on the northwestern border of Vastia, and while it was little to go on, in the face of such a grave threat, even the smallest lead was worth pursuing. The queen touched each of the warriors’ shoulders as they bowed before her, then they took to their steeds and rode off.

“Hmm-hm hm hm-hmm hm hm…”

Aldwyn spun round to see that the humming was coming from Gilbert yet again, the same melody that had been stuck in the tree frog’s head since their encounter with Agorus.

“Gilbert,” snapped Aldwyn, exasperated. “What’s with the humming?”

“No, wait,” said Skylar, suddenly taking great interest in Gilbert’s out-of-tune music making. “Keep going.”

“Hm hm hm hmm-hm hm?” continued Gilbert.

Skylar joined in, chirping along in harmony. “Hmm-hm hm hm-hmm hm hm. I know this song. It’s a lullaby. They used to sing it to us at Nearhurst Aviary.” She searched her memory, then began singing. “
Hiding high upon its head, Draped in white shimmering gown, Lie the keys to the past, In the snow leopard’s crown
. Gilbert, you’ve been trying to give us clues all this time!”

“I have?” asked the tree frog. “I mean,
I have
!”

“There’s more to it, though,” said Skylar. “That’s just the end. How does it start again?”

Gilbert hummed to himself for a moment.

“That’s easy,” he said. “
When night falls hear the dog’s bark
,
Howling to the tallest clouds. Secrets of yore buried, Beneath green needle shroud
s.”

“Go on,” said Skylar.

“That’s all I remember. I always fell asleep right about then.”

Some long-forgotten memory was bubbling up in Aldwyn too, and when he opened his mouth, the words just tumbled out.

Skylar and Gilbert both stared at him.

“I don’t know where that came from,” said Aldwyn, who was just as surprised as they were.

“Someone must have sung it to you too,” said Gilbert.

“But who?” asked Aldwyn. “I don’t remember at all.”

No one on the rooftops of Bridgetower had ever showed him any kind of tenderness, let alone soothed him to sleep with a lullaby. This memory must have been from before. From Maidenmere. Had he heard it from his mother or father?

“It’s not just a nursery rhyme,” said Skylar. “I think it’s a puzzle, or rather a series of clues. Perhaps if we can decipher them, it will lead us to the Crown of the Snow Leopard.”

Scribius had transcribed every word that Aldwyn had said so that the entire nursery rhyme was now written down neatly on a piece of parchment. Marianne, Dalton and Sorceress Edna gathered round to study it.

“Black crescent swords,” scoffed Sorceress Edna. “Dogs barking to the clouds! I think we’d be better off sticking to this great big tree that the
Wizard’s Almanac of Fables
mentioned.”

“Hold on,” said Dalton. “What if Skylar’s right? Maybe this nursery rhyme does contain clues. It’s possible the book and the lullaby are talking about the same thing.”

“Yes,” added Marianne. “We’re looking for a great big tree, aren’t we?” Then, turning to the parchment, “And the nursery rhyme talks about green needle shrouds. That sounds like a pine forest to me. What if this tree is in a pine forest?”

“And the only pine forests in Vastia,” chimed in Skylar, “are the Yennep Wilds and the Hinterwoods.”

“Unfortunately neither are inhabited by dogs,” said Dalton.

“True,” said Skylar. “But the Hinterwoods have
dog
wood trees!”

“What did she say?” Marianne asked Dalton.

“The Hinterwoods, they have dogwood trees,” he repeated.

“And there’s one whose bark stretches as high as the clouds,” said Marianne. “The mighty dogwood at the centre of the Hinterwoods.”

The familiars and their loyals looked at each other, a sense of excitement brewing. Aldwyn even felt his whiskers beginning to tingle, the way they always did when a new adventure was about to begin.

“You’re getting ahead of yourselves, children,” said Sorceress Edna, still sceptical. “This is all just speculation.”

Suddenly, the door opened and Queen Loranella entered.

“Your Majesty, we believe we’ve figured out where the tree is,” said Jack excitedly.

“Jack!” scolded Sorceress Edna. “What did I say?”

“Our familiars have recalled a nursery rhyme that was told to them,” said Jack. “One that speaks of the Crown of the Snow Leopard.”

“The first clue leads to the Hinterwoods,” added Marianne.

“Then our search should begin at once,” said the queen.

“But it’s not fair!” cried Jack. “We didn’t ask to lose our magic.”

“I know, Jack,” said the queen. “But I’m afraid this journey is for three, and three alone. The time of the prophecy has arrived.”

The familiars and their loyals were standing in the grand hall of the New Palace. An early morning breeze was blowing in through the wide-open archway where the stained-glass window had once shimmered majestically before Paksahara destroyed it.

“Even without our spellcasting, I’m sure we could be of some assistance,” pleaded Jack. “We could gather ingredients, carry extra supplies, stand watch at night.”

“I’m afraid your presence would only be a bigger burden to the familiars,” said Queen Loranella. “They will have enough to worry about without having to protect you. Besides, there is important work to be done here in Bronzhaven. Not glorious work, but crucial to the safety and well-being of all citizens. We’re going to need to fortify the outer wall and build weaponry. Without magic to fight off Paksahara, we’ll have to rely on sword and shield.”

This was no consolation to Jack, who crossed his arms in a huff. Dalton was packing Skylar’s satchel with powders and dried herbs, the finest components taken from the queen’s own apothecary. Gilbert sat on the council table as Marianne filled his flower-bud backpack and strapped a sharpened bamboo stick on to the tree frog’s back.

“It keeps slipping,” said Gilbert.

The tiny spear had fallen round his ankles. Marianne made some adjustments to the grass band and tried again.

“Maybe I shouldn’t even bring it,” said Gilbert. “My mother always discouraged me from carrying sharp objects. She said it was for my own safety.”

Jack, still crestfallen that he wouldn’t be able to join Aldwyn on his adventure, walked over to his familiar. “Here, take this,” he said as he held out his pouch. “It served you well on your last adventure.”

Aldwyn looked at his loyal’s leather bag and thought back on all that it had been through. There were singe marks from the fire in Kalstaff’s cottage and remnants of yellow sleeping powder still staining its outside. He telekinetically lifted the bag out of Jack’s hand and slipped his head through the pull strings. It had helped Aldwyn survive his first journey across Vastia, and even though Jack would be unable to join him on this next quest, it would be a constant reminder of his loyal’s love.

“Children, you’ll stay here at the palace,” said Loranella. “Until this wretched curse is lifted, we’ll stick close together.”

The reality that the familiars and their loyals would be separated again was quickly sinking in. With the animals’ preparations complete, all that was left now was to say farewell. Skylar flew atop Dalton’s shoulder, and the two exchanged a few quiet words out of Aldwyn’s earshot. It was clear there was tenderness between them, even though they never let their emotions bubble up and always kept their reserved demeanours. The same could not be said for Gilbert, who let his love for Marianne erupt like a volcano.

“I don’t want to go without you!” he blubbered, wrapping his arms and legs round her ankle. “What if something happens to you? What if something happens to me?!”

“I believe in you, Gilbert,” said Marianne in the gentle, calming voice she used whenever Gilbert was struck with a panic attack. “We’ll be back together before you know it.”

She peeled his orange fingertips one by one from her calf, and set him down on the ground.

Jack crouched down before Aldwyn, green eyes meeting green eyes. “Wherever you go, whether in Vastia or Beyond, I’ll be with you.” Aldwyn nuzzled his head up against the boy’s hand and his tail curled happily. “And if you see Paksahara,” added Jack, “punch her in the nose for me.”

“It is time, familiars,” interrupted Queen Loranella. “If you leave now, you should reach the Hinterwoods by late afternoon. I’ve drawn up an order, marked with the palace seal, stating that you are on a mission from the queen. Every man, woman and child will respect its authority.” She handed Skylar the folded parchment with the wax signet imprinted on the crease. “Now, you’re just forgetting one thing.” She turned to the doorway and called out, “Scribius!”

The enchanted quill shuffled its way into the grand hall, proud to be called to duty.

“I trust you know the way to the Hinterwoods,” said the queen.

Scribius was already drawing a map on a piece of parchment.

“Does anyone else find it curious that every magic item in the land has ceased to function, yet Scribius continues to write?” asked Edna.

“Perhaps the spell that enchants him predates human magic,” speculated Dalton.

“He was an heirloom in Kalstaff’s family from centuries ago,” said Loranella. “His origin is a mystery.”

With a final stroke of his quill, Scribius completed the route to the dogwood tree, a full day’s trip through the western Bronzhaven Plains to the Ebs, and then across its waters to the northern tip of the Hinterwoods.