for me,” he said. “Gilbert?”
Gilbert’s suction pads didn’t have any trouble pulling him up the bark, either.
“There’s a reason they call us tree frogs,” he said.
Skylar flew beside them, and the familiars ascended higher and higher, approaching a dense layer of pale green leaves that formed a kind of natural ceiling. They pushed their way through it and found themselves looking up at yet another canopy; it was as if they had reached the second floor of a building. It was brighter here than below, and colourful flowers were straining towards the pinhole shafts of light that pierced the foliage above. Hundreds of white butterflies with green-and-silver wings were flitting about in the gentle breeze.
A colony of day bats emitted high-pitched squeals as they flew right past Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert and began feasting on the fluttering insects, plucking them out of the air and swallowing them whole. It was only a matter of seconds before the butterflies were gone and the fearsome-looking creatures turned their attention to the familiars.
“Guys, I think those butterflies were just the appetiser,” said Aldwyn. “And we’re the main course.”
The day bats circled back towards them. Frantically, Aldwyn and Gilbert climbed the spiralwood, but they didn’t stand a chance of making it through the next ceiling of green before becoming bat food.
“Skylar, now would be an excellent time for one of your illusions,” said Gilbert urgently.
“They won’t be of any use,” she replied, with real concern in her voice. “Day bats don’t hunt by sight. They use sound to find their prey.”
“So what do we do?!” exclaimed Gilbert.
“Lowering your voice might be a good place to start,” whispered Aldwyn.
Too late: the bats let out a coordinated hiss and opened their jaws in unison, ready to attack. But suddenly, the leaves above parted and an enormous winged insect plunged towards them. It had the same white body and green-and-silver wing markings as the tiny butterflies – but its size was mind-boggling. The giant moth ate five bats in one bite, then swallowed another three in the next.
Aldwyn and Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief and raced for the next level while the creature continued its assault on the day bats.
“I think they made the mama butterfly angry,” said Gilbert.
“If that’s the mama, I’d hate to see what the papa looks like,” replied Aldwyn.
They burst through the thick layer of branches and emerged to find themselves dwarfed in a land of giant bugs and flowers: gargantuan spiders were weaving webs the size of castles; buffalo beetles, who usually were just a few inches long, stood taller than the large mammals they were named after. Even a dainty ladybird was terrifying when it was the size of a dragon. Now Aldwyn knew what it must have felt like for the fleas living in his fur.
“Did we just shrink or something?” asked Gilbert.
“No,” said Skylar. “It must be the Colossus sap.” She pointed to a hole in the tree stem, from which a crimson sap was slowly leaking. Aldwyn observed an already oversized ant lapping up droplets of the sticky liquid. After a moment, the ant’s legs began to stretch, and its body expanded like a loaf of bread in the oven.
“I thought Kalstaff said you had to add lava spice to make someone grow,” said Aldwyn.
“What’s true for humans and mammals obviously isn’t the case with insects,” said Skylar.
Boom bah bah boom. Boom bah bah boom.
The drumming had been steadily growing louder.
“We must be getting close to the monkey village,” said Gilbert.
The three continued their ascent, and Aldwyn could feel his legs getting tired. Walking a mile was draining enough, but moving vertically was downright exhausting.
As the familiars approached the next ceiling of green, Aldwyn was hoping that beyond it they would finally find the home of the howler monkeys. But bursting through the foliage, he found himself staring up at the sky, with a beautiful sunset in progress. The leaves on which they now stood looked and felt like a field of grass, and the clouds above seemed close enough to touch. They had reached the top of the Forest Under the Trees – and there wasn’t a single howler monkey in sight. What’s more, the sound of drumming had faded completely.
“They must be hiding,” said Gilbert, stating the obvious.
Aldwyn looked around, and at first, the surrounding area appeared completely desolate. But then he was able to make out a number of huts that were almost completely camouflaged by the treetops. Skylar had spotted them, too, and flew in their direction. Aldwyn and Gilbert gingerly stepped on to the leafy meadow, which fortunately turned out to be strong enough to support their weight. As they got closer, Aldwyn saw that the huts formed a ring around a giant wooden platform, on which he could see drums, a shrine, and a large barn-like structure. Skylar had already landed on the platform and was looking around.
“Banshee, come out,” she called. “I know you’re here.”
Aldwyn looked at Skylar, wondering if she had lost her mind.
“Um, Skylar,” he said. “You do realise that no one is here, right?”
“Clearly you aren’t aware of what the howler monkeys’ special talent is,” she replied. “Invisibility.” Then she called again, “Banshee!”
But again there was no answer. Aldwyn began to wonder: If somebody who could turn invisible didn’t want to be found, how exactly did one go about finding her? That’s when something brushed against his fur, and it didn’t feel as if it was the wind.
“They seem harmless enough,” said a female voice. A moment later a sandy-brown howler monkey materialised before them. “I’m afraid there’s no one who goes by the name of Banshee here,” she continued.
Aldwyn felt a sharp tug on his tail, but when he turned, no one was there.
“Simka,” said the female howler monkey. “That’s not polite.”
A young monkey appeared, looking embarrassed from the scolding.
Still more howlers discarded their camouflage and revealed themselves.
“Is there another village in these trees?” Skylar asked the female monkey.
“None inhabited by the howler monkeys,” she answered.
“Banshee would have left your village many years ago to become a familiar,” said Skylar.
“Many of our kind go off to assist wizards,” said the female monkey.
“But this one might have come back,” said Skylar.
A knowing look immediately crossed all of the howlers’ faces.
One with red fur and bulging eyes walked up to them. “You mean Elbara. Banshee must have been her ground name.”
“Do you know where we can find her?” asked Skylar.
“She spends most of her time in the cloudbush, meditating,” said the red monkey, pointing to one of the far branches stretching skyward from the platform. The familiars looked up and spotted a lone figure, silhouetted against the sky.
By now close to a hundred howler monkeys had materialised. A few had resumed their drumming, but most were simply watching these strange visitors from below. From the curious looks he was getting, Aldwyn figured that strangers rarely stumbled upon this treetop community, and that the familiars’ heroic reputation had not preceded them.
The female howler monkey who seemed to be the leader of the colony directed them to a vine ladder hanging down from a branch. Aldwyn and Gilbert started climbing it, and Skylar soared alongside them. As they ascended the gently sloping limb, the sunset’s pinks and purples