The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown by Adam Jay Epstein, Andrew Jacobson Page B

yellow-slitted eyes barely saw it coming. Thrump! The slab of granite knocked the creature flat out.
    The other six rumlins didn’t shed any tears for their fallen brother.
    “I thought that would have scared them off,” said Aldwyn.
    “No,” said Skylar, “they’ll probably just eat him later.”
    “Don’t worry. All the frogs of Daku are great snake hunters,” said Gilbert, his voice croaking as he tried to convince himself of the truth of what he had just said. “A reptile like this should be no different.”
    He reached over his shoulder and grabbed for the spear tied to his back. But the sharpened bamboo stick got caught on the grass strap, and Gilbert stumbled sideways, colliding with a gravestone.
    Aldwyn focused on some nearby burial urns with long-dead flowers shrivelled inside that were resting in front of a family crypt. He mentally flung them through the air, sending them towards the approaching rumlins. But now they were prepared, using their shields to fend off the aerial assault.
    The vicious lizard men were coming at the familiars with jagged rocks. One was ready to deliver a blow to Gilbert, who was still fumbling with his spear, which he had finally unsheathed. With all his might, the tree frog stabbed the attacking rumlin… with the blunt end of the stick!
    “Gilbert,” shouted Aldwyn, “you’re holding it backwards!”
    Before Gilbert could reorientate the weapon, the rumlin knocked it out of his hand with its small shield. The creature lifted his pointed rock in the air, but before he could bring the weapon down on Gilbert’s head, he was distracted by a bright glow emanating from between Skylar’s wings.
    Aldwyn could see that she was holding a large red and black gemstone aloft in her feathers. All six of the scaly monsters began to back away, cowering in fear.
    “You two better run,” she commanded Aldwyn and Gilbert. “When they realise this is just an illusion, they won’t be happy.”
    Aldwyn and Gilbert didn’t hesitate. Aldwyn sprinted for Baxley’s path; Gilbert snatched his bamboo spear from the ground before hopping after him. Skylar waited until her two companions were a safe distance away, then took to the air, the gemstone disappearing as she did. The confused rumlins could only watch as their dinner made a hasty getaway.
    With the sanctuary behind them, the three animals continued their trek through the northernmost reaches of Vastia. Evening was approaching, and the days of restless travel and the previous sleepless night had made Aldwyn exhausted. His eyes were bleary and his legs fatigued. There was no end in sight to the paw prints, and though the quest to find where the Spheris had taken Baxley was growing ever more urgent, Aldwyn would be a liability if he didn’t get rest soon.
    “I think we need to find a place to sleep for the night,” he said.
    Skylar pointed off the path to a large field of grass that had sprung up round the burnt remnants of wooden buildings.
    “That looks like as good a spot as any,” said Skylar. “We can take turns keeping watch.”
    Aldwyn veered off the spirit trail and the familiars got closer to the expanse of green. As they did, Aldwyn could hear music, a triumphant battle hymn that filled him with a sense of adventure and purpose.
    “Whistlegrass,” said Gilbert fondly.
    Aldwyn remembered passing such a field once before, on the way from Bridgetower to Stone Runlet, when Jack had first chosen him as his familiar. Kalstaff had explained how every rolling hill of whistlegrass played a different song, one that recounted the story of something that had taken place there days, weeks, or even years before.
    When the three animals stepped through the blades, it felt as if they were suddenly surrounded by an orchestra of a hundred thousand instruments playing in perfect unison. They settled into the grass, and Aldwyn was sure that despite the music echoing around him, sleep would swallow him as soon as he closed his