The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown

“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 dogwood 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.

Skylar placed map and pen in her satchel. Gilbert and Aldwyn stood on either side of her. Queen Loranella faced them.

“Find the Crown and bring it back to the palace,” she said. “We’ll assemble an army, and when the Fortress is summoned, animals and humans together will reclaim it.”

The trio nodded.

“Familiars, for hundreds of years the safety of Vastia has rested on the shoulders of wizards,” continued the queen. “Now its future rests on yours.”

Aldwyn, Skylar and Gilbert stood before the grand bronze portcullis for which Bronzhaven had been named. It took the strength of twelve horses to lift the heavy gate into the air, now that the queen’s feather spells could no longer lighten the load. As the familiars passed beneath its shining bars, Aldwyn looked back to see Jack waving from the royal cleric’s room. It was too far to shout, so Aldwyn lifted a paw instead, and loyal and familiar shared one last unspoken goodbye. With the gleaming parapets of the palace behind them, the trio headed down Bronzhaven’s main artery, a thoroughfare paved with gold and silver taken from the Lilic Mines at the base of Kailasa. Unlike Aldwyn’s former stomping grounds of Bridgetower, with its gritty back alleys and underground sewer markets, Vastia’s capital city was befitting a queen, perfectly groomed and immaculate in every way. As a result of the council’s recommendation to stay indoors, few citizens remained on the streets, but those who did stepped out of the familiars’ way. Aldwyn assumed it was because they recognised him and his fellow companions as the prophesised ones.

“I’m still not used to this,” said Gilbert. “When I see strangers staring at me like that, I always think I have food stuck in my teeth.”

“Once word got out that a cat, bird and frog were going to be the saviours of Vastia, what did you expect?” asked Aldwyn.

“I don’t know,” replied Gilbert. “Maybe a story written about us in the historical scrolls.”

“Those aren’t looks of reverence,” said Skylar. “They’re nervous that we’re not capable of meeting such an insurmountable challenge.”

Aldwyn glanced back at the people and immediately realised that her observation was on point. The citizens were watching them doubtfully, and Aldwyn, trying to see it through their eyes, could imagine feeling the same way. If he had been told that three animals an eighth of his size were all that stood between him and certain death, he wouldn’t believe it, either.