The Lost Heir (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 1) (16 page)

Jake stared in stunned recognition at the chubby, confused face of the sorrowful ghost he had seen in Newgate.

Derek straightened up and folded his arms across his chest, a dark scowl stamped across his face. “Your father wasn’t afraid of this man in the least. Maybe that was his mistake.” He shook his head. “Never underestimate a coward. Sneakiest kind of enemy you can have.”

Jake kept staring at the picture, eerie tingles running through him. He had heard quite a different version of this story from the ghost in question.

“What is it?” Derek asked, keenly watching him.

“I met this ghost in Newgate.”

“What?” Derek took a step toward him, his stare sharpening with anger. “Hobbes is haunting Newgate?”

“Apparently so. That’s where they do the hangings, isn’t it? In the prison yard?”

“That’s right. They moved the gallows behind the walls there when they stopped having the public executions. You’re sure it was Hobbes?”

“Aye. He told me his name. He said he’s a baronet.”

“I can’t believe he dared speak to you!” It was the first time Jake had seen real, full anger flood the warrior’s face. The look in his eyes was rather terrifying. “Did he attack you, threaten you in any way?”

“No, he helped me find you! He showed me to your cell.” Jake hesitated. “He kept saying he didn’t do it. That he was wrongly accused.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Every criminal says that.”

“Well, I didn’t know what he was talking about at the time, but he seemed awfully sincere. Are you
sure
it was really Hobbes who killed my parents?”

“There were witnesses. The servants saw Hobbes come onto the property, and in the little village near the castle, Gryphondale, the locals saw him, too. He had the motive. He had already made the threat, and witnesses placed him at the scene.”

“But what about my uncle?”

“Waldrick?” Derek echoed skeptically.

“He’s capable of it.”

“He was nowhere near the castle. He was seen driving his carriage through Hyde Park at the fashionable hour.”

“But this doesn’t make any sense! After all, he did try to kill
me
!”

“Yes, I recall that’s what you told the magistrate,” Derek answered in a noncommittal tone, folding his arms across his chest.

Jake was taken aback. “You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you… Look, perhaps I’m not the one to give an opinion. Your uncle Waldrick and I never really saw eye to eye. I can’t be objective.”

“So you know him?”

“Of course. He was my best friend’s annoying little brother. I could hardly avoid him. As much as I would’ve liked to,” he muttered.

“Didn’t anyone suspect him when my parents were killed? If he inherited everything, he had the most to gain.”

“No, nobody took Jacob’s murder harder than Waldrick. He was distraught when your parents died.”

“It could have been an act. He has half the city convinced that he’s some sort of saint.”

“But he cooperated fully with the police. He allowed them to interrogate him all they liked. They were satisfied he had nothing to do with it. Then he vowed to help bring their killer to justice and to find you, Jake, and bring you home. He gave a very touching eulogy at their funerals. Had Society in tears.”

“I’ve been to puppet shows that can make some idiots cry,” Jake replied.

Derek shook his head. “Jake, your parents had a lot of enemies in their line of work. I admit, sometimes I have wondered if someone other than Sir George Hobbes might’ve been involved—but never Waldrick.”

“Why?”

“He’s a show pony! No disrespect intended. But he’s a pampered, helpless priss, and besides, Jacob and he had a strong brotherly bond. I mean, all brothers fight, don’t they? They were not always on friendly terms. But everyone knew you didn’t mess with little Wally or you’d have to deal with Jacob.” He shrugged. “It was an open and shut case, complete with witnesses. The only missing part was you.”

Jake puzzled over this. “Could Waldrick have done something to Hobbes by magic? Put a spell on him to force him to do this crime?”

Derek shook his head. “Waldrick has no magic of his own. Not every member of a family inherits the gift. He doesn’t even
like
magic. He’s scared of it. Thinks it’s unnatural. He’s always kept away from magical affairs. Waldrick prefers the human world of fashionable Society.” Derek rolled his eyes.

“But if he owns a goldmine, he could pay someone with magical powers to put a spell on Hobbes to make him confess—”

“Jake, give it a rest,” Derek said impatiently. “My friend did not get murdered by his own brother. Now, if you really saw Waldrick in that alley—”

“If?” Jake cried. “You think I’m lying?”

“If you saw Waldrick, you probably just misunderstood. He was probably trying to help you before those men closed in. He had always vowed one day he’d find you and bring you home.”

“You’re daft! That toff wants me dead! You saw them try to cut me into pieces in that alley.”

“Well, I didn’t see Waldrick,” he said.

“You fought his henchmen!”

“I fought
somebody’s
henchmen.”

“Well, whose henchmen did you think you were fighting?” Jake cried, then he suddenly paled. “You mean there’s someone
else
out there who also wants to kill me?”

Derek just looked at him, grim-faced.

“Oh, that’s just perfect!” Jake spat, and with that, he stormed out through the French doors.

Derek gave him a moment alone to try to absorb all he had learned. At length, Derek sauntered out onto the terrace and leaned on the stone railing beside Jake, who was staring down into the water.

Derek heaved a sigh, saying nothing while they both watched the river flowing by like liquid onyx in the moonlight. The lights of Beacon House shimmered on the surface of the Thames.

Jake finally turned to Derek. “Who else wants me dead besides my saintly uncle? You might as well tell me now.”

“Not all magical beings joined the alliance when the Order was first founded. Some refused the notion of trying to live in harmony with humans. They’d rather use our magical advantage to rule as tyrants over mankind. We call them the Dark Druids. But don’t worry. The Order keeps them in check.”

“I hope you do a better job of that than keeping track of me,” he muttered.

“Jake.”

“And why do they want to kill me? I never did anything to them,” he added under his breath.

“Well, when you’re older, you’ll be able to do them serious damage. For now, their first choice would be to recruit you. Control you. You see, with your gifts, Jake, you could grow up to become a terrible weapon in the wrong hands. If they got hold of you, they’d try everything they could to turn you evil. They’d only kill you if you refused to join them.” Derek paused. “They’re the real reason you’ve got the Queen for a godmother.”

“And who’s my godfather? You?”

“No, I’m not important enough. If memory serves, that would be King Oberon.”

“King Oberon?” Jake echoed, and all of a sudden, he could take no more. He stood up and started laughing.

It was not the happy kind of laughter. Maybe he was having some sort of a mental breakdown.

“What’s the matter with you?” Derek asked with a frown.

“You almost had me going, Stone! You should have quit while you were ahead, but then you went too far.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come
on
!” Jake yelled, turning to him, so angry, fed up, and confused that he was shaking. “King Oberon of Fairyland? You take me for a fool?”

He had once seen a street puppet-show version of the famous Shakespeare play,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, with the moody fairy king, Oberon, and his jester, Puck, causing mischief amongst humans and fairy-folk alike.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to gull a lad from the rookery, mate. I’m not some country bumpkin that just fell off the turnip truck!”

“Jake, every word I’ve said is true.”

“Right, gov!” he shouted, purposely making himself sound extra Cockney. “I’m the son of aristocrats, to be sure! Rich and titled, aye! Queen of England and the King of Fairyland are my godparents. How could I ever doubt ye?”

“Stop that. You’re being annoying.”

“I’d have to be a glock-wit to believe a word of this!” He went back to his regular voice, but he was furious. “Ghosts, dwarves, water nymphs?!
Goldmine?
This all might be one big joke to you, but for me, this is my life. Savvy?”

“Jake, I know it’s a lot to take in. But you’ve seen these things with your own eyes. You talk to ghosts. You threw a man over a building without touching him.”

“Cruel, that’s what. You’re worse than Dani’s brothers—”

“Enough!” Derek interrupted sharply. He pointed at him. “That seashell hanging around your neck. Take it and blow into it. Now!”

“What?” Startled by the odd command, Jake clutched the little conch shell on his black cord necklace. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“No!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Humor me!” he ordered.

Jake stared at him.

“You want proof? Then blow into the conch-shell and see what happens. What have you got to lose? Unless you’re too scared?”

“Fine! Of course I’m not scared.”

“Wrong end,” Derek said as Jake lifted the conch shell to his lips. “And stand a little closer to the water.”

“Why?”

Derek looked at him like he was considering wringing his neck. Like going back to Newgate might be worth it.

Seeing that glower, Jake growled a little but did as he was told, taking a step closer to the river’s edge. He turned the shell and puffed a breath of air into the swirled end.

Nothing happened.

He scoffed and looked askance at Derek. “Happy now? It didn’t even make a sound.”

“Not that human ears can hear,” the Guardian agreed.

“What do you mean?”

“Be patient and you’ll see. Just wait…”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Seashell Summons

Dani was sleeping peacefully with Teddy curled up beside her, tiny snores rising from his snout. But when the little dog jumped awake all of a sudden, his ears perked up, the motion woke her. Teddy went flying off the bed and scampered across the room to the door, where he began scratching and whining to get out.

“What’s wrong, Teddy? Did you hear something?” Dani rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, relieved to find she had no pain at all. Indeed, she felt rather wonderful. “You need to go out, boy?”

As the fog of sleep lifted, she looked around at the gilded bedchamber and felt like she must have stepped into somebody else’s life. Who was this person, lounging like a slugabed princess in a canopy bed with plump pillows, a cozy pink nightgown wrapped around her?

She smiled, remembering the lovely dream she’d had about the angel. Then she vaguely recalled the kindly old housekeeper who had helped her to wash up and change clothes into the borrowed nightgown she now wore.

Where were her dirty old clothes anyway? Must be around here somewhere. But as Teddy scratched at the closed door, she realized it would be dawn soon, and that meant she had to go to work.

She let out a long, wistful exhalation.

But she saw she’d better get her dog outside before he had an accident on the floor. Teddy was still pawing on the door insistently as she slid out of bed. She crossed the room and picked him up. “Come on, boy, I’ll carry you outside,” she murmured. She didn’t want him running off by himself and waking up whoever lived here with his barking.

Barefooted, she stepped out into the hallway, glancing this way and that. The big, strange house was so quiet. Where had everybody gone?

She barely remembered being brought here, but the place had a spooky atmosphere. She could swear that several pairs of eyes in the portraits on the walls followed her as she tiptoed past carrying her dog.

Hurrying down the grand staircase, she crossed the foyer. “Mrs. Appleton?” she called nervously, hoping to ask permission if she could let Teddy outside in the back garden. “Jake?”

Silence.

“Anybody?”

Then, faintly, she heard voices. She followed the sound to a closed door across the foyer; she summoned up her courage and opened it. Her eyes widened. A magnificent library. Heaven!

She sucked in her breath in delight at the sight of all the books. “One second, Teddy,” she whispered. “I’ve got to see this.” No one was inside, so she crept in.

The voices grew louder.

Was that Jake? Yes, she could hear him talking to Derek Stone. Their muffled exchange floated in through the pair of French doors standing open on the far end of the grand library.

Through the open doors with their light curtains billowing on the breeze, she could see a pleasant terrace that overlooked the River Thames. She ventured closer, but the serious tone of their conversation made her hold back instead of barging in. Jake would call her a pest, and she always hated that.

“I can’t bring back your parents,” Mr. Stone was saying, “but at least I can introduce you to the last person who ever saw them alive.”

Edging closer, Dani leaned to eavesdrop in the doorway, until she saw Jake standing with one foot propped on the stone railing of the terrace. He was scanning the water. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

“She’ll be here shortly. And when she comes, you must be very careful. Her kind can be dangerous, as I said. You have to show respect. Trust me, you don’t want to offend a water nymph.”

Dani furrowed her brow, and Teddy gave a low, nervous growl as the water in front of Jake began to bubble in the most peculiar fashion.

Jake pointed at it in sudden excitement. “Look! There! Something’s rising!”

“Not some
thing
, some
one
,” Derek corrected. “They can travel this part of the river now, thanks to a breathing apparatus that one of the Order’s geniuses invented—and I daresay you’ll meet
him
.”

Then Jake let out a sound of utter amazement, backing away from the river. Dani did the same, edging back in fear; she continued to watch, unnoticed, behind the doorframe, but she could hardly believe her eyes.