Jake & The Gingerbread Wars (A Gryphon Chronicles Christmas Novella) (The Gryphon Chronicles) (5 page)

CHAPTER SIX

We Have
Ways To Make You Talk

After their windy ride through the frigid night skies, Jake was glad when their destination came into view below: the broad, snowy roofs and turrets of Beacon House, crowned by its great lantern glowing in the darkness from inside the center cupola.

The tree-shaped
symbol silhouetted in the glass was a signal of safe haven to all magical creatures in the area.

And so it was.

For the old, rambling Tudor mansion beside the River Thames had long been the headquarters of the Order of the Yew Tree, a secret alliance sworn to keeping the balance between the magical and non-magical peoples of the earth.

Jake’s parents had been among the Order’
s elite agents known as Lightriders, while Archie and Isabelle’s parents, Lord and Lady Bradford, served in a tamer capacity as diplomats.

They were frequently away, sent off to distant corners of the sprawling British Empire to smooth out quarrels between magic and non-magic folk.
(Currently they were in the Near East sorting out some sort of misunderstanding with the djinnis.)

That
was why Archie and Isabelle were so frequently left in the care of their tutor and governess, Henry and Helena, and overseen by Great-Great Aunt Ramona, who, herself, was an Elder of the Order.

But it
was just as well that Lord and Lady Bradford were away, Jake thought. He wasn’t sure what his aunt and uncle would have thought about his dragging Archie along on this mission to break into the bakery and abduct the troublemaker elf.

The little miscreant was still flailing aro
und inside the gunnysack. Jake clutched it tightly in his half-frozen hands while Red glided to a smooth halt on a flat stretch of the old mansion’s roof.

“F-f-finally!” Archie said, his teeth chattering. “M-m-maybe M-M-Mrs. Appleton wi
ll make us some n-nice, hot t-t-t-tea.”

The elf must have realized they had come to a halt, for he chose that moment to switch his tactics. “Help! Help! I’m being kidnapped!” he shouted from inside the sack.

“Not kidnapped—arrested, you dolt,” Jake said. “Stop kicking me!” He swung off his Gryphon after Archie had dismounted and gave the sack a stern shake. “Behave yourself in there! We are not going to hurt you!”

The elf blew raspberries at him
in response.

“Charming,” Jake muttered.

“Becaw,” Red said, nodding at his cozy aerie in a sheltered corner of the roof.

Jake nodded. “All right, we’ll call you if we need you
, boy. Thanks for your help.”

While Red went to curl up in h
is nest, Jake carried the gunnysack over to the little door on the center cupola that housed the great lantern. Narrowing his eyes a bit against the light’s golden glow, he opened the door and stepped inside. Archie followed, his spectacles instantly fogging up.

W
armed by the beacon’s glass-enclosed flame, both boys sighed with relief as the welcoming heat infused them. Then they started down the tight spiral stairs that led into the rest of the house.

At the bottom of the
stairs, they stepped out of a closet-like door into an upstairs hallway. Not stopping here, they marched on, past the long row of bedchambers, until they reached the top of the grand staircase.

The wide, ornately carved stairway overlooked
the foyer and led to the main rooms of the Order’s mansion headquarters.

“Oh, look,” Archie said, pointing into the foyer below them. “They
’ve put up a Christmas tree.”

T
he plump, rosy-cheeked housekeeper must have heard them coming, for she came hurrying out from the vicinity of the kitchens just then. “My dear boys!” she greeted them with a wreath of smiles. “It’s so nice to see you! Oh, but I’m afraid Guardian Stone isn’t here right now. Didn’t he tell you he’s gone to visit his mother for the holidays?”

“Oh, yes, we know, Mrs. Appleton,”
Archie said. “We’re not here to see Derek. We’re here on
business
,” he added proudly.

Jake shot him a glance
that warned him not to say too much. “Could we use the library, please?”

“Of course! Ma
ke yourselves at home. You young gentlemen are always welcome here.” She beamed as they trudged down the steps. “Such rosy cheeks, and all the shivering! Why, you look like you could do with some tea.”

“Ah
, Mrs. Appleton! You must have some house brownie blood in your veins.”

She beamed at the compliment on
her housekeeping skills. “Actually, I am one-sixteenth house brownie, on me mother’s side.”

“I thought so,” Archie said
sweetly, trying to distract her from the small
“Help!”
that came from inside the thrashing burlap sack that dangled from Jake’s grasp.

“
But, er, what have you got there, young masters?”

“Never you mind, Mrs. Appleton,” Jake drawled. He flashed a breezy grin as they passed her,
determined to brazen it out. He might be only twelve, but he was still an earl, after all. No servant in her right mind would ever question a future peer of the realm.

At least he hoped not.

The boys crossed the foyer, trying to look nonchalant, but when they gained the library and shut the door behind them, they exchanged a glance of relief.

Eager to get down to business,
they strode into the enchanted library of Beacon House, with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, its rolling ladder, and red velvet drapes. The portrait of Queen Elizabeth in silver armor stared down from above the fireplace with the wreck of the Spanish Armada in the background.

In the far
corner, the mysterious lighted globe revealed the locations of the Order’s many Lightriders out on their various missions, and to the left, displayed proudly on its pedestal, the magic harp played Christmas carols softly to itself.

“Would you see if there’
s a wand I could borrow over there?” Jake nodded at the large, stately desk to his right.

Archie nodded, drawing off his g
loves. While Jake set the gunnysack with his prisoner on one of the brown leather club chairs, his cousin marched over to the desk and started rummaging around amid the brightly colored ribbons and crepe paper left behind from somebody’s gift-wrapping project, probably Mrs. Appleton’s.

While Jake unwound his red scarf from around his neck, grateful for the cheerful fire burning in the hearth, Archie said hello to the Inkbug when it came trundling out of its box to see what was going on.

“Any luck?” Jake asked his cousin.

“Not yet. Is there a wand in here?” Archie asked the furry little caterpillar.

At once, the helpful insect ran across the inkpad to get ink on its many feet. Then it ran back and forth across an open pad of notepaper and printed out the answer:
Second drawer.

“
Thanks. Ah, here it is!” Archie quickly found the crooked yew wand and nodded his thanks to the creature, then he brought the ordinary-looking twig over to Jake. “What are you going to do to him? You don’t really know that many spells.”

Jake shushed him with a reproachful scowl. “
Yes, but he doesn’t know that,” he whispered, barely mouthing the words.
It’s called a bluff, you idiot.

Oh, right!
Archie mouthed back. Honest to a fault, the boy genius gave him a conspiratorial wink, finally catching on.

Jake shook his head. Good egg, Archie, but
the perfect little English gentleman wouldn’t have lasted a day in the rookery. He gripped the wand. “Maybe I should try that spell on him that I used in Wales to turn those living gargoyles back into stone?” Jake suggested loud enough for the elf to hear.

“Oh, not that one, Jake, it’s too terrible!” Archie said in a convincing tone of dread
, playing along. Then he addressed their prisoner. “Whoever you are, I’d do as he says, if I were you.”

“I’m not afraid of you
two runts!” the elf retorted from inside the brown sack.

Ar
chie frowned. “What a rudesby.”

Jake’s frown
deepened. He beckoned his cousin aside for a private word. “We need to question him, but we’ve got to figure out some way to keep him under control before we dare untie the sack. Otherwise, he’ll escape. It was hard enough catching him the first time.”

“Hmm.” Archie glanced around in thought. “Hey! Why don’t we just tie him up with
all those gift-wrap ribbons?”

“You
are
brilliant,” Jake admitted. Archie clapped him on the shoulder and ran over to the desk to get them.

Attempting to bind
the elf’s wrists and ankles would have required them to open the sack. That would only have made it easier for the elf to escape. So, instead, the boys simply wrapped the ribbons around and around the elf’s squirmy body, sack and all, piling on layer after layer, as if they were wrapping up a Christmas-colored mummy.

Finally, when the elf could do no more than wiggle his toes inside his curly shoes and thrash hi
s head from side to side in angry protest, they untied the knot sealing the gunnysack and peeled it down enough to let their prisoner poke his head out.

The
little elf glared at them.

Jake couldn’t help smiling at his disgruntled stare
. “Now you’ll answer our questions.”

The harp played on all the while; the elf glanced past the boys, scowling at it, as he took in his surroundings. “What do you want with me
, you kidnappers? You’ve got no right abducting me! I have rights!”

“
That remains to be seen,” Jake replied. “What were you doing in that bakery?”

“And why did you
try to attack us back there?” Archie chimed in. “You could’ve just spoken to us like a civilized person. I had no idea Christmas elves could be so vicious.”

“Christmas!” the elf said in disgust. “
Bah! Shoddiest holiday on the calendar. They should do away with it altogether! I’m no Christmas elf. Not anymore. Not ever! Would you
please
shut that thing up?” The elf glared past them at the magic harp.

“Oh
, you don’t like music?” Jake sent Archie a smug glance as they realized their prisoner’s weakness. “I have a better idea.” He leaned closer with a threatening stare. “You explain yourself right now, or I’ll make the harp play louder. Who are you?”

“Humbug!”

“You’d better answer me,” Jake warned.

“
I just told you!”

“Humbug is your name?
”

“Well,
it suits him, to be sure,” Archie muttered.

“What did you do
to those gingerbread men? We know it was you who made the displays come alive. How did you manage that?”

“Non
e of your business,” Humbug answered grandly.

“I see,
” Jake said. “Harp, play louder, please. Something to get us into the Christmas spirit.”

“
No! Not Christmas carols! Anything but that!” Humbug cried.

T
he harp ignored him, launching into a jaunty rendition of “Good King Wenceslas.”

Jake and Archie sang along just to be annoying.

The angry elf blustered and huffed, his feet kicking, but his arms were stuck at his sides, thanks to his brightly colored bindings, and he could not cover his ears.

“Feel like talking yet?”
Jake asked.

Humbug’s
only answer was more raspberries.

“L
et’s hear another one, harp!”

It obeyed with glee. They sang along.

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly…”

“
Noooo
!”

“Fa, la, la, la, la, la
…” Jake clapped his hands in time while Archie sang along, strolling over to the library card catalogue as he did so.

Archie
opened the little rectangular drawer marked “E” and started searching alphabetically for any information or recent news filed under
Elves
.

“Don we now
…”

“Oh, sto
p, stop—for pity’s sake, no! I can’t take any more!”

“
I’ll stop the music if you’ll stop lying,” Jake said pleasantly, feeling rather pleased so far with own interrogation skills.

Of course,
having been arrested numerous times in his pickpocket days, he had learned from the best—like Constable Flanagan—when he had been on the receiving end.

“Harp, pause,” Jake ordered. “That will do, for the moment
.” He turned back to Humbug. “I mean, you can’t deny you are a Christmas elf, for starters. Look at you. Look at your clothes. What else could you possibly be, dressed like that? Besides, we clearly saw your sparkle-trail. It was red-and-green. Red and green equals Christmas.”