The Lost Heir (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 1) (21 page)

Jake looked at him curiously, taking it all in. “Bradford family secrets, eh?”

“No doubt, the Evertons have ‘em, too.” Then all of a sudden, the young inventor stopped in his tracks and gasped. “Eureka!”

“What? What’s the matter?”

“The angle of the wings—it’s off! Excuse me!” He spun around and dashed back up the steps.

“Where are you going?”

“Idea! Must write it down before I forget—”

“Hmm.” Jake arched a brow, staring after him from the bottom of the steps. “Have at it.”

“Go on without me. I’ll be back soon!”

He is so strange.
Shrugging off his cousin’s eccentricity with a chuckle, Jake went to find the dining room, where the food that was his promised reward for all this morning’s torments should be waiting.

As he searched for it, he tried not to think too much about what Archie had said, that Derek would be leaving him soon, just like every other adult he had ever let himself count on.

Oh well.

Instead, he marveled over the revelation that this was the house where his mother had grown up. He peeked into every elegant room along the way, but as he approached the door to the morning room, he heard hushed voices.

“But this is all very disturbing, Guardian Stone,” Great Aunt Ramona was saying.

The door was open a crack, so naturally Jake spied.

Derek and the baroness-witch were sitting where he had left them. Two-hundred years old? Jake thought. She didn’t look a day over seventy…

“First the fairy courier disappears, then these servitors attack Jacob in the alley—sent by Waldrick, if the boy is to be believed.” She shook her head uneasily. “Is there a chance he made it up? Children do tell tales.”

“I suspected that myself at first, but then in Newgate, I fell under that strange spell, as I told you. Whatever it was, that singing enchanted the guards and the prisoners alike. Waldrick doesn’t have that kind of power, but he could have help.” Derek hesitated. “Lady Bradford, do you think there’s any chance Waldrick could be working with our enemies?”

“I don’t see how. He has no magic. That would make him a nobody in the eyes of the Dark Druids. For that reason, I should think they’d want nothing to do with him.” She shook her head. “Of course, nothing is impossible. Whoever’s behind this, we must take immediate steps to ensure my nephew’s safety.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight, Your Ladyship. Also, I’ll make arrangements with Captain Brackwater to station her warrior-maidens in the surrounding waters. She and her water nymphs can protect the borders of Griffon Castle and Bradford Park from their stream. They are fully capable of dealing with any more of Waldrick’s servitors.”

“We also have Henry and Helena, and I can provide some additional enchantments of my own.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind, ma’am?”

“There is a time and a place for magic, I suppose.”

Derek nodded. “Very well. I will also begin training the boy right away to defend himself. He’s going to have many enemies. I wish it were not so, but if he can get better control over his powers, he can bring them to bear the next time trouble arises.”

“Excellent, yes.” Aunt Ramona tapped her bony chin.

Listening from outside the doorway, Jake was both excited about the prospect of training with the warrior, and touched by their concern for him. He was not used to people caring one way or the other what happened to him.

“In the meanwhile,” the baroness continued, “I think I know of a way we can counter any possible threat from Waldrick.”

“I’m listening.”

“The one thing Waldrick fears above all else is losing his popularity in fashionable society. If we announce that the missing heir of Griffon has been found, Waldrick won’t dare make a move against the boy. If he knows the world is watching, he’ll be on his best behavior.”

“So what shall we do?”

“I’ll write to the newspapers and let them break the story about Jacob’s safe return. It’ll make the front page headlines, no doubt.”

“It’ll certainly cause a sensation,” Derek agreed, raising his eyebrows. “But are we sure Jake’s ready to become famous overnight?”

“I am afraid we haven’t got much choice. It is safest for the boy this way. Once the world knows he is alive, Waldrick won’t be able to touch him.”

“I suppose you’re right. Jake is going to end up famous whether he likes it or not. We might as well use that fame to help protect him.”

“Precisely.”

“Still, I would rather delay exposing him to interviews and such for a while. He’s not ready.”

“I agree. There is no need to rush him. We’ll keep him here, under the care of his family. Once he’s more accustomed to his true role in life, then we will see about presenting him to the world—and to Her Majesty.”

“Should we consult Queen Victoria first, before we make the announcement? I don’t want Her Majesty to feel she is the last to know.”

Aunt Ramona waved off this concern. “Leave Victoria to me. I’ll send her a personal note explaining why it was necessary and what we know so far, but don’t worry. She will trust my judgment. Don’t forget, I used to chaperon her when she was young.”

“Very well then, ma’am. Whatever you think best.”

“Good! Then it is decided.” The old baroness took out a quill-pen. “I will write the notices to the newspapers at once, along with my note to the Queen. Henry can take them to Town on the afternoon train. I’ll have him hand-deliver them to the editors, with my personal assurance that every word is true. With any luck, the announcement should run in the papers as early as tomorrow or the day after. I do rather wish I could see the look on Waldrick’s face when he reads the news.”

Derek snorted. “As do I.”

“Hey! You shouldn’t spy on people,” a familiar voice suddenly piped up from behind him.

Jake nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, whereupon Dani O’Dell pointed at him and began laughing uproariously. “Look at you!”

At least he was fairly sure it was Dani O’Dell.

The carrot-head had undergone a transformation of her own. Jake began laughing and pointing right back at her.

It was better than admitting she looked kind of pretty, in a bluish-green dress with fluffy skirts and white lace, probably a play-dress that Isabelle had outgrown. She wore perfectly clean white stockings with black ankle boots, neatly laced.

The biggest change was her hair, the red of autumn leaves. Miss Helena had made her look doll-like, arranging Dani’s hair in bouncy ringlets like Isabelle’s, pushed back from her face with a headband tied in a bow behind her ear.

Still laughing and pointing at each other, the two rookery kids moved away from the morning room to avoid being overheard.

“We look ridiculous,” Dani laughed.

“Speak for yourself. I look good!” Jake shot back, posing like a London dandy. “Where’s Teddy?”

“He’s getting a bath!”

Suddenly grateful from the depths of his soul that his old carrot-head was with him in this strange new aristocratic world, Jake grabbed her in a headlock. “Come along, Miss O’Dell, time for breakfast!” he mimicked the fine accent of the baroness.

“Let me go, ye jackanapes! You’re messin’ up my hairdo!” Dani protested, punching him in the ribs. Grinning as she struggled, Jake proceeded to walk her down the hallway toward the dining room, still in the headlock. “I don’t care if you’re an earl, you’re still horrid,” she informed him, her voice muffled against his excellent new coat.

“If I’m an earl, then I can do whatever I want.”

“No, you can’t!”

Derek must have heard their bickering, for just then he poked his head out of the morning room, saw them tussling and caused Jake to release his prisoner with a warning stare.

Dani’s face was red from being in the headlock, but she came up laughing and smoothed her girly dress.

Then they traipsed off together to find the food.

“Look!” Dani whispered, pointing.

They discovered the dining room at the end of the hallway. Spying together, they both peered in, Jake’s head just above Dani’s. Longingly, they inhaled all the lovely odors as uniformed servants whisked about, laying out a magnificent English breakfast.

The mahogany sideboard stretched for miles, an expanse of serving dishes piled with sausages, scrambled eggs, baked beans, and stacks of golden buttered toast and numerous flavors of jam. There were flaky cinnamon rolls and breakfast pastries and a colorful bowl of fresh berries, melon slices, things he had never tried in his life.

“Jumpin’ Jupiter, I’ve died and gone to ‘eaven,” Jake breathed.

“
Two
kinds of juice!” Dani exclaimed in an awed whisper. “Apple
and
orange. I don’t believe it!”

“Do we get to eat all that?”

She nodded dazedly. “I think so.”

They could barely hold themselves back, but at last the others came and they all went in to eat.

A while later, Jake and Dani exchanged a private glance, sitting across the table from each other. They did not need to speak the words aloud to agree, both marveling, that if this was a dream or some wonderful enchantment, they did not want to wake up and break the spell.

Somehow they forced themselves to stay on their best behavior, wanting all the while to gorge themselves like two starved beasts.

Instead, they used every ounce of what little manners they had been taught, knowing the worst thing that could happen would be for them to be sent back to the rookery, back to the streets.

Over breakfast, the children were given instructions to stay away from the river, the moat at Griffon Castle, and the stream, for Captain Lydia Brackwater and her fierce water nymphs would soon be on duty.

Then Derek announced he’d begin Jake’s training this afternoon.

“Just one problem,” Jake replied, slumping in his chair. His plate was clean down to the last crumb after the third helping of scrambled eggs and Belgian waffles. Indeed, he was tempted to undo the top button of his nice new trousers, but he could easily guess how horrified Aunt Ramona would be at such behavior.

“What’s the matter?” Derek asked.

“Can’t move!” he groaned. “I’m too full.”

The others laughed; the warrior cracked a smile.

“Very well,” Her Ladyship spoke up. “You children may take the day to amuse yourselves. Let Archie and Isabelle off from their studies for today,” she instructed the twins. “We adults have plenty to do to prepare the way for Jacob’s return to the land of the living. These children should get to know each other better,” she declared.

And so they did. And by the end of that first day, they were all fast friends.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Mission of Malwort

Waldrick and Fionnula had arrived by train earlier that day in the earl’s posh private railcar. They took lodgings at the village inn, as planned, but all of Waldrick’s thoughts centered on stealing one of his nephew’s hairs. Then Fionnula could make the potion for the Oboedire spell; he would use it to lure Jacob to his death, and voila! Problem solved.

He waited patiently for nightfall. Sunset faded in the west, and at last, a glance out his hotel window confirmed a black, moonless sky.

Waldrick put Malwort in his pocket and left the inn, marching down the main street of the tiny village of Gryphondale, his black coat billowing out behind him.

He pulled the brim of his hat lower to shield his face from the lamplighter’s friendly hail. Staring straight ahead, he did not answer the old man’s greeting.

First of all, he did not speak to peasants. Secondly, he wished to avoid being recognized by any of the irritating locals. If they realized who he was, they would gossip about why the Earl of Griffon should be staying at the inn instead of at his own castle.

But if anyone dared ask him about it, Waldrick would simply say it was too painful to stay there after the family tragedy, and besides, the castle was in no shape for a gentleman of his quality to sleep there, among the dust and the mice and—
heh, heh
, he snickered to himself—the frogs. Fortunately, the lamplighter left him alone, nor did he cross paths with any more of the nosy locals as he left the village behind, stalking out into the fields.

Malwort peeked out of his pocket, watching to see where they were going.

As Waldrick approached the small river, he noticed a glimmer of movement in the water, a starlit ripple of a wake, as if from a very large fish.

Then he gasped and dodged for cover behind a huge lilac bush as a river nymph glided past, her wet silver trident gleaming in the starlight.

The water nymph on patrol looked this way and that; Waldrick pursed his mouth in taut anger. He would have to stay out of sight, but he supposed the spider could take it from here.

The water nymph disappeared under the river’s glossy surface once again with a few stray bubbles trailing behind her. When she had gone, Waldrick took Malwort out of his pocket. “You know what to do,” he murmured. “I’ll wait for you here.”

“Yesss, Master.”

“Go.”

The spider hopped off his hand. Sailing to earth, Malwort sped toward the river, swerving through the grass. He came to a great old tree and climbed straight up its trunk without slowing his pace. When he reached the fork in the road where the tree-trunk split, he took the bough that stretched out over the river. It lay before him, as broad and smooth as a highway.

The large bough tapered upward into ever-thinner branches. The leaves fluttered all around him in the night breeze. He passed a bird sleeping in its nest as he sprang from twig to twig, making his way higher and always farther out above the water.

At last, he tiptoed out onto a precarious twig that marked the farthest point at which the old tree overhung the water. Having chosen this as his launch point, he descended on a string of web and began to swing.

Whoosh, whoosh
, back and forth, farther and farther he sailed out above the river. The current babbled past in quiet serenity, but Malwort was nervous.

As he swung, gathering speed and momentum, his many eyes peered ahead to search for a place where he could throw his line and land safely. A similar tree waited on the opposite bank. He must be careful in his timing and aim his jump well, for if he fell into the water, he would surely drown. He doubted he could swim. He had never tried, and did not care to learn.