“Leopards are reclusive creatures,” said Skylar. “They’re not like lions, who live out in the open plains in family groupings. No, they could be camouflaged in the trees or hidden in crevices between rocks. They would be difficult to spot in daylight or on a clear night, never mind during a full-blown scimitar.”
“OK,” said Gilbert, trying to take control of an impossible situation. “If it’s so difficult to find, maybe instead of searching for the snow leopard, we should try to get the snow leopard to come to us. Aldwyn, you didn’t happen to pack a really big jar of cat food, did you?”
“At this point, I don’t even think we’re looking for a leopard,” he replied wearily. “Perhaps not even a crown.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” said Gilbert sarcastically. “It’s called the Crown of the Snow Leopard. Why would we be looking for a crown or a snow leopard?”
“Hiding high upon its head, Draped in white shimmering gown, Lie the keys to the past, In the snow leopard’s crown,” said Aldwyn. “Think about it. Nothing in the Song of the First Phylum has been what it appears.”
“Even if you’re right,” said Skylar, “where does that leave us?”
Aldwyn didn’t have an answer to that, and so the familiars continued silently through the rain-soaked valley in the unnamed stretch of the Beyond. The denseness of the trees thinned and the group could at least take some solace in escaping the threat of timber toppling upon their heads.
Then they came up over a rise – and were met with a glorious sight, one that rivalled the majestic beauty of Torentia Falls. Across the valley that spread out below them, they saw a hillside that was completely covered in white-petalled flowers, with only a few patches of black earth visible beneath. The curve of the hill’s crest resembled two rolling waves coming into shore. On second glance, they seemed even more like… the back of a reclining cat. On the taller of the two peaks stood a circle of seven grey rocks. Aldwyn had seen these rocks before, in Gilbert’s puddle viewing. They were the ones he had been cowering among, clearly in danger.
Aldwyn and Skylar looked at each other. Then they turned to Gilbert.
“Even I figured this one out,” said the tree frog.
There was no question that they had found the Crown of the Snow Leopard. And it wasn’t a precious object, but a place. Aldwyn knew that hidden somewhere high atop that hill lay the keys to the past and the power to summon the Shifting Fortress.
“We did it,” said Skylar proudly. “And with a day to spare too.”
They hurried as fast as they could across the valley and up the flowered slope. There was such joy in Aldwyn’s step that he momentarily forgot the downpour drenching him. Skylar flew for the rocks, so eager she could not wait for Gilbert and Aldwyn to catch up. Aldwyn’s paws crushed white petals underfoot as he dashed to the edge of the crown.
Skylar was already standing at the centre beside a pedestal of steel, which had a grapefruit-sized hole carved out of it.
“The spheris would have fitted perfectly here,” she said. “That must have been what the Odoodem meant when it said the spheris was one with the Crown.”
A rapid succession of lightning flashes illuminated the sky and the stone circle, and Aldwyn could see that the inner face of each of the seven rocks was covered in glyphs. The etchings reminded Aldwyn of the symbols he had seen on the glyphstone outside Bronzhaven and the one in Bridgetower.
“What does it mean?” asked Aldwyn.
“The symbols on the seven rocks are in a script I’ve never seen before,” replied Skylar. Another series of sparks in the sky allowed the jay’s eyes to discover something else. “But there’s writing here, on the steel pedestal, not unlike the language used in the oldest spells recorded. It appears to be instructions.”
Gilbert huffed his way up to the others, his wiry legs sleeved in wet mud, Shady at his side. “You two saved the queendom yet?”
“We’re working on it,” said Aldwyn.
Skylar leaned in closer to try to translate the words, which had worn away with time. “‘Noble possessor of the Spheris,’” she read. “‘Carrier of the blood of destiny. You have deciphered the secrets of the Crown and stand here hoping for the Shifting Fortress to appear. But your journey is not yet complete.’” Skylar’s voice grew anxious, and she continued to read faster. “‘Now, all that is left for you to do is gather the seven descendants of the First Phylum. Bring them to one of the three glyphstones and stand together, side by side in a circle, just like the seven stones surrounding you here. Then the Fortress will summon forth, and order can be restored to this great land.’”
“Hang on,” said Gilbert. “I think I misheard because I’m pretty sure you just said, ‘Your journey is not yet complete.’”
Skylar’s eyes were speeding over the words written on the pedestal again, as if even she could not believe that what she had read was true. But Aldwyn could feel in the pit of his stomach that this was not the end of their adventure, only a halfway point. And another realisation was quickly setting in – they would never be able to summon the Shifting Fortress in time to stop Paksahara from raising her Dead Army.
“We don’t even know who the seven descendants are,” said Skylar.
“We need to get word back to the palace, to warn them,” said Aldwyn.
“It will be too late by then.”
Aldwyn didn’t even need to turn round to know who had spoken these words; Malvern had found them.
“Very clever, nephew,” the traitorous pride leader continued. “I would have kept going too, had it not been for the moth I saw flying towards the moon.”
Malvern stalked round the circle, looking at the stones and the steel pedestal at the centre.
“So this is the Crown of the Snow Leopard?” he asked. “I never doubted that you’d find it. You have the same annoying persistence as your father.”
Malvern opened his pouch telekinetically, removing a small vial of gold powder. The vial uncorked itself and the powder flew up into the rainy sky. It swirled about before taking on the ominous shape of the double hex, glowing brightly in the darkness.
Aldwyn understood that Malvern was sending out a signal, a bright gold against the night sky. Many would see it, but it was only intended for one – Paksahara. And once she saw the burning eyes at the centre of the five-pointed star, she would be coming for them.
“Why did you do it?” asked Aldwyn. “Why did you betray us?”
“What you see as betrayal, I see as justice long overdue. Before you were born, when I first became pride leader, Paksahara came to Maidenmere. We met secretly. She promised a day was coming when animals would rule Vastia again. She was looking for allies who would be there at her side to rise up against humans when that time finally came. Humans, who pushed our pride to the dusty and deserted plateaux. There was a day when the bicolour cats could roam all the land, before cities and castles infested it. I promised to do whatever I could to help.”
“Everything you told me about my father was a lie,” said Aldwyn. “I deserve to know the truth about my parents.”
“The truth is simple. Baxley and I never saw eye to eye. I lived constantly in the shadow of his virtues, even when he was off on his adventures and I was in Maidenmere helping our tribe gather food and shelter. He had a chivalry and romanticism about him, but you can’t lead that way.
“Shortly before you were born, your father came to me. He told me of a vision he had seen in the Ebs. It was of his son in danger, and the only way to save him was by retrieving the Crown of the Snow Leopard. At the time, none of us knew what the Crown’s meaning or purpose was. But Baxley was unwilling to risk your safety, and he set out to find it. He remembered a nursery rhyme told to us as kittens, and followed the clues to a great tree in the Hinterwoods. He brought a steel ball back to Maidenmere. By that time, Corliss had given birth to you, and your father was able to say his goodbyes to both of you.
“I promised him I would look after you and your mother. It was during this
time that Paksahara and I began meeting more frequently. But it was of the utmost importance that our alliance remain a secret. Then I noticed Corliss acting strangely around me. And I knew what I had worked so hard to keep hidden had been exposed. It was impossible to keep anything from your mother. All the Wind Chanters like Corliss had special gifts. Your mother’s was the ability to read minds. She was telepathic.”
“Her death wasn’t an accident, was it?” asked Aldwyn, doing everything he could not to jump forward and claw his uncle’s eyes out.
“I tried to reason with her. Tell her that what I was doing would be for the good of the Pridelands. But she was just like your father. Righteous to a fault. Besides, she could read my thoughts, and no matter what I said aloud, the voices in my head said something different.
“She sent you down the river to protect you from me. I was too late to stop her. We struggled, and I pushed her into the river.”
A blind rage took hold of Aldwyn. A sharp rock flew up from behind him, directed right at Malvern. But it was blocked in midair by an even bigger shard that Malvern had lifted with his own mind.
Gilbert and Skylar watched helplessly as nephew confronted uncle.
“I would be angry too,” said Malvern, sensing his nephew’s fury. “But proceed with caution. My powers are strong, and I will show no mercy.”
The two stones hovered between them, locked in telekinetic duel. Malvern, with a quick twist of the mind, sent Aldwyn’s rock flying to the ground. Then, just by raising his chin, Malvern lifted Aldwyn off his feet and threw him into one of the seven stones in the circle. Aldwyn cowered there, the same way he had in Gilbert’s puddle viewing.
Aldwyn put a paw up against one of the rocks and got slowly to his feet.
“Mongoose,” whispered an ancient-sounding voice.
Where had it come from? He listened, his paw still up against the rock, and there it was again –
“Mongoose.”
He had hit his head pretty hard, but surely not so hard that he was hearing things.
“It sounded like it was coming from the stone,” said Skylar, erasing any doubts Aldwyn might have had about whether what he was hearing was real. He pulled his paw away and the rock went silent. Then he put it back up to the smooth surface, and there it was a third time – “Mongoose.”
“The stones, they must speak the names of the seven descendants upon being touched,” said Skylar excitedly. “We need to learn them all!”
Just then, the sound of beating wings could be heard overhead. Aldwyn looked up to the sky to see a bird the pale tint of indigo slicing through the air. It was almost as if the droplets of rain bent round it, the wings moved so quickly.
“A periwinkle falcon,” shouted Skylar with relief in her voice. “The fastest of all avian creatures. Noble and just, and a vicious fighter too.”
The bird came swooping down towards Malvern, ready to carry the traitorous cat off in its sharp talons. But then it landed beside Malvern – and began to transform. Claws turned to paws and beak to grey fur nose. There standing before them was Paksahara.
“I want to thank you,” Paksahara said to the familiars. “I could have never found the Crown without your help.”
Aldwyn and Skylar exchanged a quick look and a nod. They both backed away slowly, inching towards the neighbouring stone in the circle.
“Get the names!” whispered Aldwyn through his whiskers. “Gilbert and I will cover you.”
Skylar didn’t hesitate. She flew up to the next rock and pressed her wing against it. The stone spoke out a second species’ name, and Aldwyn was close enough to hear it.
“Golden toad,” said the same mysterious ancient voice.
“The seven stones must be destroyed,” Malvern told Paksahara. “They must never reveal their secret to the Prophesised Three.”
Skylar was already at the third rock. “Wolverine,” the blue jay called out just as a blast of emerald energy shot out from Paksahara’s paws. It twisted through the air like a corkscrew and struck the side of the third rock, obliterating it. Skylar was caught in the blowback, landing on a pile of debris.
Aldwyn lifted the rubble off her telekinetically and sent it hurtling towards Paksahara. The hare twitched her ear and a black hole of darkness formed before her, sucking up the attack. She then flicked her wrist, shooting out two bolts of lightning that turned the first two rocks to dust.
Gilbert was hopping for the fourth stone, with Shady bounding behind him. His webbed hands reached out and made contact. “Howler donkey!” he shouted excitedly.
“I think you meant ‘howler monkey’,” observed Skylar, who was getting dizzily back to her feet.
“Right,” said the tree frog. “It’s kind of hard to hear with the storm and Paksahara blowing stuff up next to my ears.”
Paksahara turned her attention to the stones that remained standing, and Aldwyn could see the energy beginning to crackle at her paw tips. He sprinted for the rock, hoping to distract her long enough for Skylar and Gilbert to gather the last three species’ names. But before he could make contact with the stone, he felt a tearing sensation rip through his back. Aldwyn tumbled end over end, looking up to see Malvern atop him, claws digging into his flesh.
“I told you I would show no mercy,” hissed Malvern.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aldwyn saw Gilbert whispering in Shady’s ear. The next thing Aldwyn knew, the shadow pup was throwing itself at Paksahara, distracting her before she could send out the blast.
Malvern pinned Aldwyn to the ground, pushing him into the mud and holding him down. A large piece of loose rock flew for the back of Malvern’s head, but was stopped in midair.
“Come now, nephew,” scoffed Malvern. “You’re no match for me, not in strength and certainly not mind versus mind.”
While he tried to fight off his uncle, Aldwyn could see Shady nip at Paksahara’s leg and Skylar, who was still a bit off balance, sailing towards the fifth stone. She was able to touch the surface with her wing, and although Aldwyn couldn’t hear what the rock said, he was sure Skylar had learned the name of the fifth species they needed.
Malvern had taken control of the piece of rock that Aldwyn had initially lifted, and it was now hovering directly above his nephew’s head. Aldwyn pushed with all his mind to hold it back, feeling his temples strain and eyes burn.
“If I was the only one who could find the Crown, why not just kill me when you first had the chance?” asked Aldwyn.
“After you came to Maidenmere and revealed who you were, I contacted Paksahara. She directed me to follow you and your companions at a distance, to ensure that you would make it to the Crown safely. I couldn’t take the chance of travelling at your side, in case you possessed the same mind-reading ability as your mother.”
Despite Aldwyn’s own precarious situation, he could see that Paksahara had cast a light spell, surrounding herself in a bright glow of sun that forced Shady to retreat.
The evil hare addressed Skylar. “You disappoint me the most,” she said to the blue jay. “I see a lot of myself in you. Your thirst for knowledge. Your want for more. I was just like you once.”
“You’re nothing like me!” cried Skylar, who had almost reached the sixth stone when Paksahara conjured a glider cage in the air and sent it hurtling towards the bird, entrapping her in mid-flight. Aldwyn tried to attract Gilbert’s attention, but the tree frog was fumbling through his pouch, removing some nightshade and juniper berries.
“Gilbert, get to the last two rocks,” called Aldwyn. “What are you doing?”
“Stopping Paksahara,” he answered.
“But you can’t cast spells!” Aldwyn said.
“I know. But nobody’s better at miscasting them.” With these words, Gilbert threw the components into the air and shouted, “Send a flame from whence you came!”
Just like in the cave, a glowing fairy started to form, but quickly became an explosive firework. It blasted up and down, from rock to mud, zipping straight over Malver
n’s head and into Paksahara’s back. She was knocked face-down into the mud. The glider cage came crashing down to the ground.
Aldwyn and Malvern continued to wrestle telekinetically as the rock lowered towards Aldwyn’s face. He knew that its weight would crush him if he wasn’t able to keep it hovering in the air.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” panted Aldwyn. “There would have been no need to destroy the Crown if only the child of Baxley could follow the path here.”
“You’re not the only child of Baxley,” said Malvern. “You have a sister.”
Aldwyn couldn’t believe what his uncle had told him. For a split second his concentration wavered, and the large rock descended closer towards him. But then Malvern’s revelation gave Aldwyn an unexpected surge of strength. He was able to win the tug-of-war with Malvern’s mind and toss the rock aside. Aldwyn leaped up and thrust his head into Malvern’s nose, causing his uncle to stumble backwards just as Skylar busted out from the now weakened cage and flapped to the sixth stone, touching it with her wing. This time Aldwyn was able to hear the rock speak: “Bloodhound.”
Now only one stone remained before all seven of the stones had revealed themselves to the familiars.
Paksahara, back on her feet, shook off the last burning embers clinging to her fur from the flame fairy. Looking more annoyed than angry, she turned to Gilbert, who could hardly believe that his miscast spell had actually struck its intended target. But there was no time for gloating. Paksahara conjured a wind gust and hurled it at the tree frog, picking him up off his feet and throwing him off the crest of the hill and down the white-flowered slope.
Skylar, meanwhile, was charging for the final stone. But before she reached it, Paksahara fired a trio of ruby needles towards the blue jay’s wings. Skylar darted out of the way and chanted, “Shieldarum resisto!” and a shield spell intercepted the flying needles.
“Your magic has grown stronger since we last met,” said Paksahara. “But even a student of the Noctonati cannot withstand me for long.”
The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown Page 19