The Familiars: Animal Wizardry

Aldwyn stretched his legs as far as he could, still half asleep on the rooftop of the cottage.

“Aldwyn!” called Jack again, his voice growing more concerned.

Aldwyn’s eyes opened wide and he quickly got his bearings. Giant puffy clouds were racing across the sky, swallowing up the sun for a moment, but burning off just as quickly as they had come. The autumn scent of falling leaves floated in the air, an unaccustomed smell to a cat who had spent his life in the city. He peered over the shingles and saw Jack searching the yard frantically, barefoot and still dressed in his cotton nightshirt.

“I’m up here,” said Aldwyn.

When Jack saw his familiar, his face flooded with relief.

“What are you doing up there?” he asked. “I thought you’d run away.”

“Sorry. I’m just used to sleeping under the stars.”

“Well, come on. We have to get ready for our walkabout.”

Aldwyn scurried across the tree branch and back down to the ground, walking up alongside Jack and rubbing his fur against the boy’s legs.

“I better get changed,” said Jack, bending down to scratch Aldwyn’s ear. The alley cat’s tail curled happily. “You should head over to the runlet and drink some water. It’s going to be a long day.”

“I’m not that thirsty,” replied Aldwyn, wanting to avoid another run-in with the swimming eyeballs.

Jack ran back into the cottage and almost collided with Dalton and Skylar as they were stepping out into the sunshine.

“Be sure to check your boots before you put them on,” Dalton warned Jack. “I saw your sister carrying a handful of marsh berries.”

“Hey, why do you have to ruin all my fun?” Marianne asked Dalton as she and Gilbert came outside right behind him. She gave Dalton a playful push, the kind fourteen-year-old girls give fourteen-year-old boys they like.

It wasn’t long before Kalstaff emerged from the cottage dressed in his wilderness cloak with his rod floating by his side. Jack followed behind, now wearing a tunic with leather laces up the front.

“Today we shall walk to the edge of the borderland,” announced Kalstaff. “Remember to bring your botanical field guides and a quill. You will be taking notes.” Jack sighed at this, disappointed.

“Oh, and I almost forgot,” continued the elder wizard. “Have any of you seen Wyvern and Skull’s Tome of the Occult? It seems to have gone missing from the spell library last night.” Aldwyn immediately knew the culprit and stole a glance at Skylar. She nervously shifted from one foot to the other, but nobody else seemed to notice. “I don’t want to discourage private study, of course,” said Kalstaff, “but let me warn you: this is a very dangerous book about necromancy, one whose spells of the dead can be corrupting in inexperienced hands.”

A tense silence followed. Despite Skylar’s earlier skittishness, she remained stone-faced, and Aldwyn was in no position to out her. With none of his pupils coming forward, Kalstaff let the issue go unresolved for now

“Very well then. Let us be off.” Kalstaff waved his hand over his rod and it immediately transformed into a large walking stick. Aldwyn watched as the old wizard headed for the trees, which seemed to open a path for him.

Even on the sunniest of days, glorious days like this one, the Forest Under the Trees was cloaked in emerald shade. No ray of light could penetrate the 200-foot high canopy of green that protected the woodland floor below.

As they were heading deep into the shadowy forest, Kalstaff began a long-winded lecture on the vegetative rarities unique to this isolated region, from lavender fungus to dew algae. Aldwyn could barely keep his eyes open as Kalstaff’s lesson turned to such snooze-worthy topics as “proper ivy handling techniques” and “the advantages of chopped versus diced pine needles”. He was more interested in looking up at the day bats that were flying in circles overheard.

Gilbert, who was lagging behind, stopped mid-hop as he passed a puddle of morning dew that had collected in an over-sized fern leaf.

“Whoa, I think I’m seeing something,” said Gilbert to the two other familiars. “A vision. It looks like some kind of wyrm dragon.”

Sklyar peered over his shoulder, then said in her usual exasperated tone, “You mean the reflection of that caterpillar up in the tree?”

Gilbert looked up to spy a black, prickly caterpillar that was clinging to a twig. “Huh. Well, puddle viewing isn’t an exact science.”

“Puddle viewing?” asked Aldwyn curiously.

“Gilbert comes from the Daku Swamp Forest,” explained Skylar, “where all the tree frogs are born with the power of divination, able to see visions of past, present and future in pools of water.”

“Clever,” said Aldwyn, as the trio resumed their walk, following behind Kalstaff and the young wizards. “What kind of tricks can you do?”

“Tricks are for circus monkeys,” Skylar responded, a little bit insulted. “I’m an illusionist, like all the birds from Nearhurst Aviary.” Aldwyn wasn’t entirely sure what sort of wizardry that entailed, but he was certain bringing the elk bones to life in the woods was well outside what she claimed her talent to be.

“Illusions are one of the most underrated circles of magic,” continued Sklyar. “I can make things appear that are not really there. And oft times the appearance of something can be more powerful than the thing itself.”

“It’s kinda lame, if you ask me,” chimed in Gilbert.

“Said the frog who thought he saw the future in the bottom of a pickle barrel,” Skylar snapped.

“I had a premonition of being attacked by little hippopotamuses!”

“I think we’ve all agreed those were a handful of floating gherkins,” said Skylar, rolling her eyes.

After a frustrated sigh, she turned back to Aldwyn. “I just hope what they say about you cats from Maidenmere is true. I mean, I assume that is where you’re from. Maidenmere. Given your size and colouring.”

“They say a lot of things about us Maidenmere cats,” he replied, bluffing the best he could. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“You know, that your telekinetic powers can rival even those of the Gordian Mindcasters.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “But reading somebody else’s mind is a nifty talent,” he added, digging himself deeper still into a hole.

“Mind reading—that’s telepathy,” said Skylar. “Telekinesis is moving things with your mind.”

“Right. That, too.”

“You can do both?” Gilbert said excitedly. “Tell me what I’m thinking of right now.”

“Uh… um…”

Skylar looked at Aldwyn sceptically. He swallowed hard, his paws moistening with sweat.

“A fly?” he guessed.

“No way! That’s incredible,” said Gilbert. Almost against her will, Skylar seemed impressed too.

Aldwyn had, for the moment at least, escaped without having his true identity revealed—that he was not a familiar but a lowly alley cat. He was spared any further questioning by the group’s arrival in a beautiful, moss-covered clearing, in the middle of which stood the biggest tree he had ever seen.

“Can anyone tell me what kind of tree this is?” asked Kalstaff, stopping.

“A colossus tree,” answered Dalton.

“That’s right.”

Kalstaff used his thumbnail to puncture the soft bark of the tree. Crimson-coloured sap began to leak out of the hole.