The Lost Heir (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 1) (32 page)

“Aye, sir,” his henchmen said.

Suddenly, a low, menacing growl coming from somewhere below jolted Jake out of the memory and pulled him back into the present.

He yanked his hand away from the book while the deep snarl rumbled through the chamber. “What was that?” he exclaimed, shaking off his daze.

No one answered.

He looked around. Sir George had disappeared.

Jake shook himself again, still foggy-headed from the brief but appalling scene he had just witnessed inside Uncle Waldrick’s memories. He was not exactly sure how this vision had occurred, but he suspected it had something to do with the link between their minds created by the Oboedire spell.

At least he knew for certain now that it was Waldrick who had killed his parents, and he knew
how
it had been done, too, but still not
why
. What had made him want revenge on his elder brother?

More to the point, Jake realized he had no way to prove what he had witnessed in his uncle’s memories. It was his word against Waldrick’s—and he’d already seen which of them the world believed when he had faced the magistrate. Everyone thought that Waldrick was some sort of saint. Well,
he
knew the truth, and it seemed his only option was to confront his uncle head-on.

There was only one problem—the Oboedire spell. If he got within a few feet of Waldrick, Jake became his slave. His voice, his own will, even his telekinesis were of no use. The Oboedire spell made him virtually powerless around that rat. All Waldrick had to do was give an order and Jake was magically forced to obey it like some mindless servitor.

He was really starting to understand why Great Aunt Ramona had come to dislike magic.

As he stood there, trying to work out his next move, he suddenly felt someone—or something—staring at him.

He hoped it wasn’t the thing that had growled, for it had sounded big. And hungry.

Then he noticed ten shiny little eyes that all blinked at once inside a box atop the worktable. Jake walked over to it cautiously.

“Uh-oh,” said a little, clinkety voice.

Jake recoiled. Inside the box was the largest spider he had ever seen: brown and hairy, with white spots and large fangs. But the monstrous spider looked more scared of him than he was of it.

It let out a small whimper and ducked down behind a clump of grass in its cage, trembling. “The Jake! No broom, please!”

“You can talk? How?” Jake furrowed his brow and backed away. This place just kept getting weirder.
I’d better get back upstairs before they miss me.
“Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

As he turned to go, another voice suddenly called to him out of the shadows. “Excuse me? Young master, wait, if you please! If you wouldn’t mind—a little help?”

He whirled around, startled. “Who’s there?”

“Don’t be alarmed! It’s just us! I-I’m Stanley. I’m an accountant from Tidwell! Please don’t go, sir! We desperately need your help!” the polite, halting voice said in distress. “I’m afraid you are our only hope!”

On his guard, ready to zap any threat with his telekinesis, Jake walked over and saw a little goat-man in a cage. He stared at him. “Was that you talking?”

“Yes, sir, if you please. You’re the one called Jacob, aren’t you? The earl’s nephew?”

“I’m the earl!” Jake retorted. Then he squinted at the creature. “You say you’re an—accountant?”

“He’s a satyr, kid,” came a grumpy, sarcastic retort from the next cage.

Jake glanced over and gasped at what he saw—a winged baby in a cage! He stared in amazement at the baby’s stubby gold wings. They looked too small to support its chubby body.

“What are you starin’ at?” the baby demanded in a very annoyed, adult voice, like a grown man who smoked too many cigars. “Are you just goin’ to sit there gawkin,’ or give us a hand?”

Jake nearly fell over. “What are you two doing in there?”

“We’re on holiday. Can’t you tell?”

“Really?”

“No, you idiot!” the winged baby retorted. “Waldrick locked us up in here to try to steal our powers. Who’ve you been talkin’ to all this time, anyway? You some sort o’ loon-bat?”

“I may be,” he answered, shaking his head in shock.

“I’m sure he’s nothing of the kind!” Stanley nervously assured him. “Don’t mind Charlie, sir. That’s just his way. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s not, er, like other cherubs. Hearts and flowers aren’t quite his idiom.”

“Charlie the Cherub?” Jake echoed.

The sarcastic flying baby glared at him. “Not a word, kid. I’m warnin’ you.”

“Charlie, don’t be rude to the young gentleman. He’s our only hope of escape! If you wouldn’t mind, sir, please let us out of these cages before
she
comes back. All we want is a chance to go home to our families—”

“Of course.” Jake got to work at once, unlocking their cages. “My uncle did this to you?”

“Yeah-h-h-h,” Stanley bleated.

“I’m so sorry! What’s that thing?” He nodded toward the next cage.

“Giant silk glow worm. He’ll want out, too.”

Jake nodded, then hurried to pry open the dirt-filled terrarium. The enormous worm rolled out, then began wriggling across the chamber.

“Avoid the ballroom,” Jake warned them as he freed another little fellow introduced to him as Mo the cobbler’s elf. “Waldrick and Fionnula have got guests.”

“Oh, thank you, sir!”

“Not sir, just Jake,” he said.

“The Tidwell satyrs will write poems in your honor!” vowed Stanley. “I wouldn’t expect much thanks from him, though.” He nodded at Charlie in discreet disapproval.

“Oh, I’ll catch up with you one day, kid. Pay you back. Don’t you worry about that.” Laughing, Charlie flew up from his cage with the clumsy, lurching path of a bumblebee. He flapped his wings harder, rising to grab his golden bow and arrows from a shelf above. “I’ll make sure you meet a real nice girl one day. Then, direct hit, boom! Bulls-eye, and she’s yours.”

“No hurry on that!” Jake fairly yelped. Last thing he needed right now was a girlfriend to add to his headaches.

Charlie winked and tossed him a cheeky salute. “Right, kid. Some other day, then.” The cherub flew ahead, scouting out the territory for the satyr, who followed, bounding up the steps.

“Oh, don’t forget about her!” Stanley called over his shoulder.

“Her, who?” Jake asked as they hurried away.

“Over there, in the little box! If she’s still alive… I honestly don’t know, poor thing,” the satyr said sadly, then they both disappeared up the dark stairs.

Jake knew he shouldn’t waste time dawdling. Any minute now, Waldrick and Fionnula would be summoning him to the ballroom.

He looked around, unsure of what final prisoner the satyr had been referring to. The spider, perhaps? Not eager to get closer, he forced himself to help it, cautiously opening the spider’s cage.

The talking spider hunkered down inside. “Malwort stay with Master.”

Jake shrugged. “Suit yourself.” But then he noticed the small pasteboard box on the shelf by the wall.

A faint golden glow emanated from it. It entranced him. He went toward it. Slowly, carefully, he took the little box down from the shelf. He noticed tiny air-holes in the lid as he set it on the worktable before him.

He lifted one corner of the lid, unsure of what might happen if he removed it. It could be anything in there. Between talking spiders, sarcastic cherubs, satyr-accountants, cobbler’s elves, squidy old sea-hags, and crime-solving ghosts, not to mention belligerent water nymphs and shape-shifting teachers, there was no telling what might be lurking in this box.

Whatever it was, it was small.

As he eased the lid upward, Jake was relieved that nothing exploded, nothing zoomed out, nothing growled or tried to bite him. Still cautious, he pulled the lid away.

His eyes widened as he gazed down at a tiny person lying with her back to him, curled up in a ball.

Oh, no,
he thought. Stanley was right.
Whatever she is, I think she’s dead
. “Hullo?” he asked in gentle concern. “Are you all right in there?”

The tiny person didn’t move.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Lost Fairy Found

Jake wasn’t sure what to do, but when the tiny person began to stir, relief flooded through him.

She’s alive!

As she sat up, Jake gazed at her in wonder.

Her lowered head and drooping shoulders communicated miniature despair. She wore a pale, tattered gown with little ballerina slippers, and had a shiny circlet around her head like a delicate metal wreath.

As small as she was, she had the saddest face he had ever seen. His heart clenched with concern for the tiny thing. Trapped inside the pasteboard box, there was nothing in there for her comfort but a thimble of water and a shred of muslin for a blanket.

“Hullo. Do you want to come out of there?” he offered, gently lowering his hand into the box. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Jake.”

At once, she stood up, only about five inches tall. She stared at him for a moment with beautiful, soulful eyes. “Come on, then,” he urged, and then she climbed carefully onto his palm.

She began talking to him, moving her hands expressively. At first, Jake could not understand the silvery, tinkling sounds that came out of her mouth.

But he listened harder as he lifted her out of the box, and he began to make out her words. “I know who you are! You’re the true Lord Griffon!” she was saying. “I’m so relieved you’re safe! But you shouldn’t have let the others go. Waldrick’s going to know it was you who freed them. You’re already in enough danger as it is! They are planning to kill you as soon as the fuss dies down, you know.”

“I figured that.” Jake lifted her higher so he could look at her more closely. “Egads, you’re a fairy, aren’t you?” he exclaimed. “What happened to your wings?”

The fairy stared at him for a second, fighting back tears. “Waldrick cut them off.”

“What?” he breathed.

The ruined fairy burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands.

“My
uncle
did this to you?” he echoed with a whole new wave of outrage sweeping through him.

She dropped to her knees on his palm and wept. “I tried to escape so I could warn you to stay at the castle, but they caught me! I heard Waldrick say he’s cursed, he can’t go onto the castle grounds.”

Tough rookery kid that he was, Jake’s heart quite broke as he beheld the tiny thing’s inconsolable distress. It felt awful to realize that Waldrick had done this to her all because of him.

He felt a few molecules of water fall on his hand, her miniscule tears as fine as droplets of fog.

“Don’t worry, I will help you,” he promised, shocked that even Uncle Waldrick could do something so vicious and cruel to such a small, defenseless, and beautiful being.

But then, unexpectedly, just when his cause seemed hopeless, something remarkable happened.

As the fairy’s tears fell on his skin, he felt a tingling sensation go running up his arm. A faint, golden glow began spreading up to his shoulder and from there, all throughout his body, seeping into him.

An enormous, sudden cramp in his belly made him nearly double over in pain, even as the tingling sensation grew stronger. He felt pressure in his eyeballs, tickling in his brain. “I don’t feel so…ugh.”

He leaned forward, trying not to drop the fairy as pain and dizziness racked him.

All of a sudden, the biggest burp of his life came traveling up from his stomach and exploded from his lips.

The mighty burp ripped forth in a green, stinking bubble of a cloud, and popped.

“Blimey!” he cried, waving the green mist away. “Excuse me. What the deuce was that?”

The poor fairy was also coughing from the stink. “That evil spell they put on you—I think it just came out! How do you feel now?” she asked uncertainly.

Jake pressed his hand to his stomach. “Better!”

“I’ve heard our tears have magic in them, but nothing like that’s ever happened to me before.”

“I think it worked!” Indeed, he suddenly felt like his old self again. Well, now! If he was no longer under the Oboedire spell, he could begin to turn the tables on his uncle. “What about you?”

She lowered her head and shrugged. “I’ll be all right,” she said bravely.

Jake frowned. He was glad she had stopped crying, but he knew he had to help her. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Carrying her carefully in his cupped hands, Jake marched toward the dark stone stairs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Gladwin Lightwing. I’m a royal garden fairy and a courier for the Order of the Yew Tree.”

“Oh, you’re the missing messenger! I heard about you,” he said. “The Order’s been looking for you. If I carry you out to the garden, do you think you can find your way to Beacon House? Derek should be there. I’m sure he can find some way to help you. I’d take you there myself, but I’m supposed to show up in the ballroom any minute now.”

“My lord, you must escape with me!”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” he said in a hard tone as he carried her up the secret stairs. “Those two killed my parents. This is a perfect opportunity to confront that rat. I’m going to make him pay for what he did to them and to you—and to everyone else he’s hurt,” he added with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“But you’re just a boy!”

“I’m not afraid of them. Besides, my uncle can’t do anything to me in front of all his guests.” Jake opened the hidden door behind the Waldrick painting just a crack, peeked out, and saw the coast was clear. He stepped through it and closed it silently behind him.

Then he strode out of his uncle’s chamber and hurried down the upstairs hallway, sneaking down the servant’s stairs to set Gladwin free outside.

“You’re squishing me!” she warned.

“Sorry.” In his anger at his uncle, he hadn’t noticed his grip on the fairy tightening. “Here.” He slipped her into the breast pocket of his tuxedo coat, near his scarlet boutonniere. The slit pocket was not deep, but held her snugly up to her waist; Gladwin stood facing forward, able to see where they were going as he strode through a dark, quiet section of the house, away from the party.