The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown (11 page)

Finally, there was some peace and quiet as Gilbert began stalking silently beside Aldwyn. When the group reached an area where tall rocks jutted out from the ground, Baxley’s trail suddenly veered left, then sharply to the right, then back and forth, twisting in circles, leaping from rock to tree branch and to the ground again.

“What is it?” asked Skylar.

“The paw prints,” replied Aldwyn. “They’re going in every direction. Almost as if Baxley was running from something.”

“Can’t you just pick up the path where it resumes?” asked Skylar.

“There are so many prints, it’s hard to tell.”

As Aldwyn was trying to make sense of the multitude of paw prints in front of him, he spotted a white cloth pouch lying on the ground at the base of one of the trees. Aldwyn moved closer and could see a symbol sewn into the outside – a cat’s paw reaching for the moon. The sand sign of the Mooncatchers. This pouch must have belonged to his father!

“You should take it,” said Skylar, eyeing the pouch as well. “While it’s too small to hold the Spheris, it might have some clues inside.”

But Aldwyn was hesitant. He didn’t like what he’d learned about Baxley thus far, and he was quite certain that any personal effects within his father’s shoulder bag would only disappoint him further.

Aldwyn felt a chill run down his back, and when he turned away from the pouch, he noticed that a thick fog had rolled in all around them. The grey mist was getting more impenetrable by the second, so dense that Aldwyn could no longer see his companions or anything but the footprints glowing through it.

“Skylar, Gilbert, where are you?” called Aldwyn.

“I’m over here,” said Skylar.

“Over here,” she repeated, but this time it seemed to come from the opposite direction.

“Follow the sound of my voice,” commanded Gilbert. Aldwyn took a few steps towards it before he heard the tree frog call from behind him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

Another voice called out. It was Aldwyn’s own. “Skylar, Gilbert, I’m over here!” Now Aldwyn was truly confused – he hadn’t said a word.

“Guys, that wasn’t me,” cried Aldwyn. “Something’s going on.”

He spotted some shadows moving through the fog.

“Gilbert, is that you?” he asked.

“Yes.” “No.” “I’m not sure.” Somehow Gilbert’s voice responded from three different places.

“Something must be mimicking our voices,” said Skylar, or at least what sounded like her. “Just stay where you are. Don’t move.”

“Don’t listen to it, Aldwyn,” another Skylar said in response. “Come towards me. We only stand a chance if we’re together.”

“I’m holding my ground,” said Gilbert.

Aldwyn almost tripped over Gilbert’s webbed feet. The two had been just inches away from each other.

“
Gustavius rescutium
,” incanted Skylar, and a small whirlwind swept clear some of the fog surrounding them, enough for her to spot Aldwyn and Gilbert and flap over to where they were huddled.

The three looked around, then stared deeper into the fog. Out from the mist slithered a tentacle-like arm with a mouth on the end of it. Then another. And four more.

“I’m hungry,” said one of the mouths, perfectly mimicking Aldwyn’s voice.

“Me too,” added another, this one sounding just like Skylar.

Then the body of this strange beast appeared from out of the fog. It looked like a beached squid, short fuzzy feelers guiding it forward as it pulled itself along the ground.

“I think it’s an echo beast,” whispered Skylar. “They became extinct in Vastia during the reign of Brannfalk.”

“How do we defeat it?” asked Aldwyn.

“If we coordinate our attacks perfectly, then perhaps—”

Skylar didn’t get a chance to finish, as Gilbert leaped forward with spear in hand.

“Every one of your mouths will be screaming in terror when I’m finished with you,” the tree frog shouted fearlessly.

One of the tentacle arms, its mouth slobbering, lashed out and gave Gilbert an unforgiving wallop, sending him airborne until he smacked into a boulder. Flat on his back, Gilbert was easy prey for the two other tentacles circling him.

“Mine,” said Skylar’s voice from a mouth.

“No, mine,” said another, this time mimicking Gilbert.

As they stretched towards him, Aldwyn sent a dried tree branch flying through the air that knocked the tentacles away for a moment, long enough for Gilbert to wake up. He took one look at the echo beast and let out a blood-curdling scream.

“Ahhhhh! I’m going to die!”

“He’s back,” said Skylar.

Gilbert hopped over to his companions. “What happened?! The last thing I remember is getting hit on the head by a rock. Then I’m waking up with a…
that
over me!”

Aldwyn kept flinging stones at the beast, but the slimy mass barely seemed to notice.

“That’s the best I’ve got,” said Aldwyn to the others.

“I’m not sure an illusion will do much,” said Skylar. “Echo beasts don’t have eyes. They just sense body heat.”

“I vote for running,” croaked Gilbert.

“You won’t get away,” Gilbert’s voice called back from one of the mouths.

And it was true; by now, five of the tentacles had surrounded the trio on all sides, and the sixth was hovering threateningly in the air above them. Drips of viscous saliva landed on Aldwyn’s fur. One of the mouths swooped down, about to take a bite out of Aldwyn’s still-whole ear, when the other mouths let out a horrifying wail. The echo beast recoiled, thrashing in pain. Through the fog, Aldwyn could see that the body of the beast was being attacked. He just couldn’t make out by what.

“Come on, let’s go!” shouted Skylar as the mouths retreated to assist the body.

The familiars made a run for it, Aldwyn leading them to where he saw Baxley’s paw prints glowing on the ground. Along the way, he scooped up his father’s fallen pouch with his teeth. The familiars looked back one last time at the echo beast, which was thrashing from left to right as its unseen attacker held fast to its back. The echo beast howled in pain, which was made all the more disconcerting by the fact that it was Aldwyn’s, Skylar’s and Gilbert’s own voices that were doing the screaming.

After escaping the rocky crags where the echo beast had trapped them, Baxley’s paw-print path led Aldwyn and his fellow familiars deeper and deeper into the jungles north of Vastia. Gilbert and Skylar had spent a good amount of time debating the intentions of whatever creature had fended off the echo beast’s attack.

“It looked like it was coming to our rescue,” Gilbert argued. “Maybe it was one of those angel beasts, bursting forth from the Tomorrowlife at our time of need.”

“More likely some predator of the Beyond,” Skylar countered with a shake of her head. “I’m sure if we stuck around long enough, it would have eaten us too.”

Aldwyn, though, had been less interested in his companions’ theories than in what dangled round his neck – his father’s cloth pouch. He had yet to look inside.

“Aldwyn, just open it,” said Skylar, and it wasn’t the first time she had implored him to do so since he had picked it up.

“We’re going to keep following the path regardless of what I find,” he replied. Still, a part of him knew that she was right, and that he should set aside his personal feelings for the good of the quest. But he wasn’t quite ready yet.

“If it would be easier, I’ll look,” said Skylar.

“Give him a little more time, Skylar,” said Gilbert. “You can be so pushy.”

Skylar muttered something about Gilbert having no idea what pushy meant, but eased off, keeping her beak shut as the familiars continued. They fought their way through thickets and vines for what seemed like hours, precious time with only three days left until Paksahara’s promise of a new Dead Army would come to fruition.

The trail eventually rejoined the Ebs, and Skylar remarked that she hadn’t realised just how far the great river stretched into the lands of the Beyond. They walked in silence along the footpath hugging the water’s edge, but the jungle hardly shared their quietude. Their ears were greeted by a cacophony of birds chirping, snakes rustling through grass, and drops of water falling from leaves.

Although the air was thick with moisture, Aldwyn was incredibly thirsty. He spied a large corkwood tree with mouthwateringly clear sap dripping from a hole in its bark. Aldwyn stepped off the glowing paw prints and approached, thinking nothing could look more refreshing.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” warned Skylar.

Aldwyn retracted his tongue a split second before ingesting the liquid.

“Kalstaff had a saying about jungle fauna,” she continued. “The ones that look the most inviting are the ones you should steer furthest from.”

Aldwyn looked again at the inviting sap dripping from the tree. It appeared more delectable than the cool waters of the Ebs that flowed nearby, but Skylar was right – now wasn’t the time to take any chances. He watched a giant beetle scuttle over to the bark and take a taste of the sticky liquid. When it turned to creep away, the bug exploded, splattering beetle guts all over the ground. Quickly, worm-sized roots slithered out from the earth, grabbing chunks of beetle flesh and dragging them beneath the ground, and Aldwyn decided that he would be quite happy to stay thirsty for a little while longer.

He returned to his father’s trail, but didn’t take a hundred steps before tripping over an unseen object that had been hidden beneath the dense flora on the jungle floor. He looked down at where he had stubbed his paw and spotted the shiny silver tip of a sword’s blade. Aldwyn brushed away the leaves to reveal the rest of the weapon. It was a magnificent sword, its hilt made from solid ebony and carved in the shape of a black tarantula. Aldwyn was about to tell his friends about his discovery when he heard Skylar call out.

“Guys, look what I found.”

She had made a discovery of her own – a helmet covered in thick brown hair with a horn at the centre of it. Gilbert approached for a closer look.

“What kind of animal fur is that?” he asked.

“It’s armpit hair,” explained Skylar, “from one of the strongest creatures ever known to exist.” She spoke as if she was in the presence of something awe-inspiring. “This is a helmet of the Fjord Guards. It bestows the strength of giants on whoever wears it.”

Gilbert stepped back, and now he stumbled across another abandoned artifact – a brass candelabrum with five empty candle holders.

“What’s a candelabrum doing in the middle of the jungle?” he wondered aloud.

Gilbert reached out a webbed hand, and at once multicoloured flames burst out from the candleless holders. He jumped back, but not before a greenish flame had set some twigs ablaze. Skylar quickly flitted over and batted out the burning branches with her wing.

Aldwyn’s attention had already been drawn elsewhere.

“You two might want to see this,” he said from up ahead.

Before them, the ground was strewn with objects of all shapes and sizes – a shield with a picture of a white beetle on its surface that seemed to frost the ground around it; a charcoal-black wand that appeared to quiver and shake as if it was scared; and a closed coffin double the size of any man. There were spyglasses, elephant saddles and a rug woven with all the colours of the night sky. Some things looked like they had been there for years, while others seemed more recently arrived.

“Could the Crown of the Snow Leopard be here?” asked Aldwyn.

Skylar landed next to him, completely in awe of the treasures on display.

“Perhaps,” she replied, her eyes searching. “Look, there’s a dreaming rug, and Ebekenezar’s cloak,” she added excitedly, pointing at a worn and frayed piece of fabric. “And here, two of the three Swords of the Spider.”

“I think I saw the third one back there,” said Aldwyn.

“What is all this stuff?” asked Gilbert.

“Magical artifacts from all over the queendom and the Beyond,” answered Skylar. “And someone or something brought them here.”

For the next little while, the familiars were lost in exploring the items littering the jungle floor, looking for anything resembling what might be the Crown.

“I think this could be a mawpi’s lair,” said Skylar suddenly.

“Come on, mawpis are just make-believe,” replied Gilbert. “There’s no such thing as magic-sniffing goblins.”

“No, they’re real. I’ve read first-hand accounts of people who have seen them. They’ve just become increasingly rare.”

“Well, no goblin could ever be strong enough to carry a coffin or an elephant saddle,” said Gilbert.

“True, unless they were wearing one of the helmets of the Fjords.”

Gilbert couldn’t argue with her logic. “OK, so let’s say it is a mawpi’s lair. Where’s the mawpi?”

“Probably off collecting new treasures.”

Aldwyn’s eyes scanned past a curved mirror and a mesh bag filled with gold coins before landing on a crystal figurine of a squirrel in a terrified pose.

“What’s this?” he asked his companions.

“Looks like a glass squirrel to me,” said Gilbert. “Very realistic.”

“That’s because it was once alive,” chirped Skylar, coming up beside them. “In fact, it might still be. But it’s trapped for eternity in crystal. I’ve seen another statue just like this in the Museum of Bronzhaven, of a Beyonder who ventured into Necro’s Maze.”

“Necro’s Maze,” said Aldwyn, his ears perking up. “Jack told me about that before. He said no one has ever made it to the centre.”

“That’s because Necro is a hideous beast that turns flesh to glass with the touch of its tail,” said Skylar. “There is no spell capable of reversing the curse. Wizards speculate that the only way to return the statues to life is by killing the beast itself.”

Aldwyn stared at the squirrel’s frozen expression and felt bad for the little creature. He actually reminded him of a fellow rooftop dweller from Bridgetower who had roasted nuts in the hot smoke of the chimneys. Meanwhile, Gilbert had wandered off to the far end of the clearing, where he was playing with a silver chain of beads; two seemed to be shimmering a bright blue while at least a half-dozen more were dull and colourless. And Skylar had already fluttered over to a crystal cube lying in the dirt.

“It doesn’t look like the Crown is here,” said Aldwyn. “And Baxley’s path goes this way.”

“Just give me a moment. If this cube is what I think it is, it could contain all the spells of the Elder Council,” said Skylar, who was transfixed by the sparkling object. “Some were never transcribed to parchment.” She pressed a wing against the side of the quartz block, and smoke started to stir inside it. She closed her eyes, and to Aldwyn it looked as if she was attempting to draw the cube’s knowledge straight through her feathers. Aldwyn watched as a swirling mist started to seep out from the quartz.

“Hey, Skylar, Aldwyn, I think I just found the mawpi,” called out Gilbert.

“Not now,” Skylar replied, deep in concentration, her eyes squeezed shut.

Aldwyn turned round and saw where Gilbert was standing. On the ground beside him, the decomposing corpse of a goblin lay face down. What was worrying was that two giant fang marks were clearly visible on the dead body’s back.

When Aldwyn returned his gaze to Skylar, the mist had taken the form of a ghostly snake. It didn’t take long for Aldwyn to connect the dots and scream, “Skylar, get away from that thing right now!”

But she had fallen into some kind of trance and didn’t respond. Above her, the cube’s serpent-shaped genie was about to strike.

“Skylar!” called Gilbert. “Skylar!”

She remained transfixed, leaving Aldwyn no choice but to give her a telekinetic push, jolting her awake.

“It hasn’t spoken to me yet,” cried Skylar, still unaware of the deadly inhabitant of the artifact hovering over her.

“I don’t think it’s going to do much talking,” shouted Aldwyn.

Finally, Skylar looked up to see the misty fangs widening. Then the familiars ran. Gilbert shoved the silver chain of beads into his flower-bud backpack as he fled. The trio dashed past the mawpi’s corpse, leaving the goblin’s lair and the rest of the stolen artifacts behind. The serpent genie, bound by the cursed cube, was unable to follow.

When they had caught their breath, the familiars made their way back to the river, and Aldwyn led them along the purple paw prints.

“I’m sorry about what I did,” said Skylar. “I know it was reckless, but I thought that cube might contain spells that could aid us in defeating Paksahara.”

Aldwyn had grown to know Skylar well enough to recognise when she wasn’t telling the whole truth. First, there was the lack of eye contact; then there was the way she shifted her weight from talon to talon. He had a feeling that her temptation was less about the journey and more about following the credo of the Noctonati – knowledge above all else. But it would be hypocritical of Aldwyn to call out Skylar for letting her own personal issues interfere with the quest when he still hadn’t looked inside the pouch pressed up against the black fur on his chest.

Thinking about it that way, Aldwyn could no longer allow his own selfish reasons to keep him from opening his father’s bag. He was about to do just that when the pouch was pulled straight from his neck by some unseen force. It was as if an invisible hand had reached out and grabbed it.

“Hey, did you guys see that?” he asked his companions, spinning round, looking for the thief.

“What?” asked Gilbert.

“The pouch! Somebody took it.”

Aldwyn thought he heard something trip in the bushes nearby, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of blue, but when he turned to look, there was nothing but dangling jungle vines.

“Maybe the invisible howler monkeys roam these jungles,” said Skylar.

Gilbert clutched his flower-bud backpack extra tight. “They better not lay a hand on my flies.”

“Aldwyn, I told you you should have opened that bag sooner,” said Skylar, who was flying about looking for it.

“How was I supposed to know it would get stolen like that?” asked Aldwyn. He was searching the tall grass and the reeds beside the river.

“Let’s just hope Baxley’s path and the Song of the First Phylum are enough to guide us to the Crown,” said Skylar.

Aldwyn gave one last glance around before following the path again. He experienced an unexpected emotion – a feeling of loss. Just a few minutes ago he had had no desire to see what was in Baxley’s pouch, but now that it was gone, he would have given anything for a peek inside.

“What’s the next verse of the nursery rhyme again?” asked Gilbert.

“
Through brown mist stone arrows point, To where the ladybirds rest. A supper to be placed, In the great spider’s nest
,” sang Skylar. “We should be keeping our eyes peeled for stone arrows.”

“And I’ll be on the lookout for ladybirds,” said Gilbert. “For the quest, of course. Not to eat.”

The jungle seemed to breathe differently here by the river. This part of the Ebs was narrow and moved at such a crawl it almost appeared not to be flowing at all. A gentle breeze stirred the foliage around them, and Aldwyn observed how it blew some of the leaves on the ground upwards, as if they were floating back to the branches from which they had once hung. The sun and the sky gave the impression of being out of sync as well, casting shadows of clouds that weren’t there.