The Familiars: Secrets of the Crown Read Online Free PDF

Crown of the Snow Leopard… knowledge of these things has been lost to time.”
    “The First Phylum are the seven tribes that ruled over Vastia,” said Agorus with an exasperated sigh. Suddenly, his faint glow began to disappear. “The strongest and most powerful wizards of the…”
    “Wait, don’t go,” pleaded Skylar.
    But it was too late. The mist pulled Agorus away. His voice trailed off as his form dissipated into the Tomorrowlife once more.
    “I’m afraid your components were too weak to hold the spell,” said Feynam.
    Aldwyn thought there was no need for the elder to rub it in – he could see that Skylar was disappointed in herself by the way her wings slouched and her beak hung down.
    “But it was enough time to get a clue,” said Queen Loranella. “The Crown of the Snow Leopard,” she repeated aloud. “If we find this magical item, perhaps the tide can still be turned.”
    “In all my years of study, I have never heard of such a crown,” said Sorceress Edna. “And my memory is like that of a steel trap. Nothing escapes it.”
    Though Skylar had succeeded in contacting Agorus, they were left with new mysteries – what was the Crown of the Snow Leopard? Where would they be able to find it? What did it have to do with the Shifting Fortress? And what was the First Phylum? Aldwyn knew he wasn’t going to be of much assistance in answering these questions, seeing how his knowledge of all things magical was still in its infancy.
    “Hmm-hm hm hm-hmm hm hm…” someone began to hum.
    Everyone turned to see who the off-key tune was coming from: it was Gilbert.
    “Sorry,” said the tree frog when he felt everybody’s eyes resting on him. “I don’t do well with uncomfortable silences.”
    “We’ll have to search through the dustiest of tomes to have any chance of learning about the Crown and its whereabouts,” said Queen Loranella. “I suggest we start at the Vastian Historical Archives.”
    Skylar was still collecting her components, and Aldwyn couldn’t help but notice that she looked rather drained, almost as if her blue sheen had lost a little of its lustre. As she took to the air, a pair of her tail feathers dropped to the ground. Feynam walked up alongside her, and Aldwyn overheard him whisper, “Remember what I said, little bird. There will be consequences.”

 
    The wizards’ and familiars’ arrival at the Historical Archives, just outside Bronzhaven, marked a reunion with an old friend – Scribius. The enchanted quill pen, which had helped guide the familiars on their quest to the Sunken Palace, had spent the last month happily transcribing the details of their adventure on the Vastian time line. Upon seeing its former companions, the metal and feather writing tool glided across the long wooden tabletop where it’d been working and executed an elegant curlicue before them.
    “Scribius!” exclaimed Gilbert. “So this is where you’ve been keeping busy. Pretty fancy for a pen from the Runlet.”
    Indeed it was. The Historical Archives was more than just the grandest library in all of Vastia; it was a two-storey museum of the queendom’s past – the most recent past, anyway. Hanging against the red velvet wallpaper were large tapestries of old kings and early maps of the countryside. Pear-shaped globes sat on pedestals around the room, and they would have been spinning had it not been for Paksahara’s disenchantment spell. Open cabinets were stuffed with history scrolls. And there was no lack of books – shelves of them on the walls, piles stacked fifty high on the floor, and tables with tomes too heavy to lift. Only a handful of dedicated scholars were studying the folios during this time of crisis, so the team of magical animals and their loyals nearly had the run of the place. One or two of the civilians recognised the queen and bowed before her, but there was little time for formalities.
    “Let’s all split up,” said Queen Loranella. “There’s an awful lot of