“So one night, I sneaked out of the Aviary and flew to the caves. There were sixteen crowded in the darkness – some wore hoods to hide their identities, even though all present took an oath to never reveal those who stood beside them. The complexities of the discussions often strayed beyond even my understanding, but with time I began to comprehend more. By the end of my first year, I had earned my anklet. I had gained so much insight into the mysteries of the dead, but these seekers of knowledge simply didn’t have access to the spells I needed. And so I learned what I’d have to do if I wanted to advance my knowledge further – become a familiar.”
Many of the questions Aldwyn had about Skylar – why she had stolen Wyvern and Skull’s Tome of the Occult from Kalstaff’s library, the meaning of the bejewelled anklet she wore, even why she had decided to become a familiar – had been answered. But it was clear she still had unfinished business, and there was no telling how far she would go to accomplish it.
Gilbert finally caught up with them, out of breath, the red mud-tipped spear in his hand. “Thanks for waiting up, guys,” he huffed sarcastically, but then he noticed the sombre mood Aldwyn and Skylar were in and fell silent.
The group continued their slow ascent, and soon it was past high sun. Aldwyn suddenly felt a bit queasy, and he thought it might have been because he hadn’t eaten since waking up in the whistlegrass.
“I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved,” said Aldwyn.
He led the group off trail and sat down on top of a moss-covered rock. He dug into Jack’s pouch and pulled out some dried salmon jerky with his teeth. Skylar found some fallen seeds on the ground and nibbled away. Gilbert, on the other hand, wasn’t eating; he was unrolling one of Marianne’s pocket scrolls that he had packed for himself.
“You OK, Gilbert?” asked Aldwyn, trying to cool down his body against the cold stone. “I’ve never seen you pass up a lunch break for study.”
“Oh, I’ve been snacking along the way.”
But Aldwyn could tell that there was more to it than that. Gilbert read one of the spells under his breath.
“What’s that you’re practising?” asked Skylar.
“I’m going back to basics,” said Gilbert. “Maybe I got ahead of myself with the enchanted bows. Thought I’d try a simple high-hop spell. It says here all I have to do is flick my fingers the right way.”
Gilbert held a webbed hand in the air, making figures-of-eight with his fingertips. Mid-spell, a horsefly buzzed by his ear and he swatted at it, breaking the pattern he’d been so intricately performing.
“Oh, I messed it up, didn’t I?” asked Gilbert, realising his mistake.
Just then, four rocks enchanted by Gilbert’s misdirected spell went hopping past them.
“I’m not cut out for this.” The tree frog sighed. “I’d be better off—”
But before he could finish, a fifth rock leaped in from who knows where and clunked him on the head, knocking him to the ground.
Aldwyn and Skylar rushed to his side.
“Gilbert, are you OK?” asked Aldwyn.
The woozy tree frog opened his eyes. “Who’s Gilbert?”
Skylar and Aldwyn shared a concerned look.
“You,” said Skylar.
“Where am I? What happened?” he asked.
“You’re Gilbert!” said Skylar. “Our fellow companion.”
Still nothing seemed to be jolting his memory.
“You’re Marianne’s familiar,” continued Skylar. “One of the Prophesised Three, on a quest to save the world.”
Gilbert’s eyes lit up. Was there a spark of remembering?
“On a quest to save the world,” he repeated, sitting upright. “Yes. It’s all coming back to me.” He looked himself up and down. “I’m a tree frog from Daku, a great amphibian warrior from the Swamps.” He pulled out the bamboo spear and stared at the red mud-stained end. “And I can see my weapon has already seen the heat of many battles.”
Uh-oh, thought Aldwyn. This definitely did not sound like Gilbert.
“If the world is at stake, we have little time to waste,” bellowed the tree frog in a bold voice Aldwyn had never heard before.
Aldwyn leaned over to Skylar and whispered, “What do we do? He’s clearly not right in the head.”
“Gilbert, I think when you bumped your head, you lost your memory,” said Skylar.
“Nonsense. I’m fully aware of who I am and what I’m destined for.” He hopped forward without hesitation, then stopped, confused. “Where are we going again?”
“To find the Crown of the Snow Leopard,” said Aldwyn.
“Right. The Snow of the Crown Leopard. What are we waiting for?”
“Isn’t there some kind of spell you can cast to get him back to normal?” Aldwyn asked Skylar.
“There are three types of brain coral that might do the trick, but without those components, my wings are tied. I think we’re just going to have to wait it out.”
“Come now, well-groomed bird and cat with the bite out of his ear,” Gilbert called back to them. “There are trolls to behead and dragons to slay!”
Aldwyn shrugged, and the familiars resumed their journey. He was fairly confident that Gilbert would remember soon enough who he really was, although for now he seemed possessed by some legendary hero. One that Aldwyn could only imagine must have existed in Gilbert’s fantasies.
“Creatures from Beyond, you can’t hide from me,” Gilbert shouted. “Show yourself and surrender before my spear.”
“Is that really necessary?” asked Aldwyn.
“See these scars on my arms,” Gilbert called to the hills, ignoring him. “You’re probably wondering how I got them.”
“Tripping into a bonfire, falling out of Marianne’s bed, and accidentally jumping through a closed window,” said Skylar under her breath.
“From fighting a scorpion-tailed lion with my bare webbed hands!”
“You don’t know any silencing spells, do you?” Aldwyn asked Skylar.
“If I did, I would have already used one.”
“Gilbert, we’re trying to sneak up on our enemies,” said Aldwyn, lying in an attempt to quieten the tree frog’s dangerous boasts.
“Yes, of course,” whispered Gilbert. “You will not hear another word from me until I see the whites of their eyes.”
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.
&nb
sp; “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 stu
bbed 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.
The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown Page 11
