The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown. Adam Epstein

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СКАЧАТЬ the meek librarian who was sitting behind the front desk.

      “Excuse me,” she asked. “Could you point us to your Wizard Almanacs?”

      The young woman looked up from the Archives’ book roster, which she was busily updating. “Most of them are in the Reference section. I’d start there.” The librarian was about to return to her administrative task, but became sidetracked by a slither of bookworms crawling in through an open window. “Pesky little creepers,” she muttered as she grabbed a broomstick to sweep the purple parasitic worms back outside.

      Marianne, Gilbert, Dalton and Skylar made their way through the stacks. Jack and Aldwyn followed behind. Jack slowed as he passed by a counter cluttered with conch and snail shells.

      “Did you hear that?” Jack asked his familiar.

      Aldwyn listened. Sure enough, he could hear faint voices coming from nearby. He approached the shelf with the shells resting atop it and the quiet murmurs got louder. Jack came up beside Aldwyn and lifted one to his ear.

      “They’re whisper shells,” explained Jack. “I’ve heard about these. They preserve voices spoken from long ago. Put your ear up to one.”

      Aldwyn jumped up on the counter and leaned his left ear – the one with the bite taken out of it – up to a rose-coloured spiral shell. Immediately, he could hear the sound of a voice speaking: “This is Derkis Toliver, local fisherman, speaking to you three years into the reign of the seventh king. I stand here at the port of Split River, watching the first spice vessel sail in, and I wonder if this will be a renowned harbour in the years to…”

      Aldwyn pulled his ear away. Not the most riveting recollection, but just the fact that the words were spoken centuries ago made the otherwise mundane message become vivid and real.

      “Maybe one of these shells will mention the Crown of the Snow Leopard,” said Aldwyn.

      Jack didn’t even respond, as his attention was drawn to a shelf labelled Tales of the Beyonders. He quickly began lifting snail shells to his ears. “What if my mum’s or dad’s voice has been captured in one of these?” the boy wizard asked.

      Jack had told Aldwyn how he and Marianne’s parents were Beyonders, lost at sea while on a secret mission ordered by Queen Loranella. The boy wished to become an explorer of distant lands too, one day, in the hopes of finding his mum and dad, who were perhaps waiting to be rescued on some deserted island. This desire to reunite with the family he never knew was one that Aldwyn could relate to, having only the foggy memories of his own parents that had come to him in dreams. He often wondered why his parents had abandoned him, sending him away from his home.

      “No,” Jack kept saying, as he listened to each shell for a brief moment before trading it in for the next. “No, no, no.” He moved through them quickly, then put the last one down with a defeated look on his face. “I knew it was a slender chance anyway.”

      “Don’t be discouraged,” said Aldwyn, trying to comfort his loyal. “I know how you feel.” He nuzzled his head up against Jack’s hand.

      “I wish I could hear their voices, just once,” said the boy, melancholy filling his voice.

      Dalton and Marianne walked up with armloads of books and scrolls, interrupting the shared moment between loyal and familiar.

      “Hey, Jack, we’re going to need your help getting through all of this,” said Dalton, who dumped the selected materials on to one of the mahogany reading tables with a thud.

      What chance did they really have of coming across some mention of this mysterious Crown? Just scanning this first pile alone could take a whole day. To Aldwyn, it seemed like trying to find a single flea on the back of a gundabeast.

      Aldwyn had lost track of the time, but he could tell by the lack of light coming in through the windows that night was approaching. The only sound that he had heard in the past few hours was that of pages flipping and the occasional snore from Stolix, who seemed to steal naps even more frequently than Gilbert. Nobody had found any leads in their search so far, but everybody was determined to work through the night until they did. Without the convenience of Protho’s Lights to illuminate the Archives after dark, the librarian had gone out to purchase candles, a magicless alternative that could still be lit despite the dispeller curse. No other visitors remained inside the crimson-coloured walls.

      “Hm hm hm hm hm hm,” hummed Gilbert.

      “Would you give it a rest already?” snapped Skylar.

      “I didn’t even realise I was doing it that time,” said the tree frog.

      Skylar returned to her reading, but the silence only lasted a moment.

      “Hm hm hm hmm-hm hm.” Gilbert had started it again.

      “Gilbert!” snapped Skylar.

      “I’m sorry. This stupid tune is stuck in my head and I just can’t get it out.”

      Sorceress Edna set down her magnifying glass and rubbed her eyes wearily. Feynam poured himself a tall glass of water from a jug on the table.

      “Brannfalk’s Crown, the Golden Crown of the Clouds, the Twin Crowns of Yajmada,” said the Elder. “But nothing at all about a Crown of the Snow Leopard.”

      “Don’t lose faith,” said Queen Loranella. “An old friend of mine used to say, ‘You always find what you’ve been searching for in the last place you look.’”

      Aldwyn could tell by the smiles on the children’s faces that they had heard this from the same source she had – Kalstaff.

      The front door of the Archives opened, and the librarian entered. Curiously, she was empty-handed.

      “You forgot the candles,” said Jack. “How are we going to be able to see?”

      “Yes,” replied the librarian, somewhat sheepishly, “they’re in rather high demand right now. The shops were sold out. I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”

      “No need to apologise,” said the queen. “We’ll work by moonlight if necessary.”

      The librarian walked back to her seat behind the front desk, stepping right past a trio of the slimy bookworms that had found their way back inside during her absence. Aldwyn found it curious that now she ignored them, seeing how quick she had been to retrieve her broom before. Perhaps the exhausting day of research had taken its toll on her as well.

      “You said most of the Almanacs were in the Reference section,” Marianne called to the librarian. “Where are the rest?”

      “Let me check the catalogues,” she replied. Aldwyn was certain she was fatigued now, as this was the first time all day she hadn’t had a ready response to one of their queries.

      “I think I’ve found something,” said Dalton, sounding rather unsure about it.

      “You did?” asked Jack.

      “Yeah, right here, in the Wizard’s Almanac of Fables,” said Dalton, his excitement growing. “It’s written in Elvish, but I think I can translate it.”

      “Move over, move over,” said Sorceress Edna. “I’m fluent in all dialects of the СКАЧАТЬ