by E. G. Foley
Dani froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “What?” She put the fork down and leaned close again. “She told you that?”
“Not in words. But it’s kind of obvious. And…I’d wager it’s mutual.”
Dani stared at him, wide-eyed. “Well, that’s not good.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “Nevertheless.”
She sat there looking dazed for a moment.
Jake frowned, suddenly worried. “You’re not going to tell on her, are you?”
“But—I’m her official companion, Jake! Her family hired me to look after her—”
“That doesn’t mean you have to act as their spy!” he whispered back. “Lord, I wouldn’t have told you if I— Come on, Dani! Everyone hated snitches back in the rookery, remember?”
Oh, she remembered—he saw. Her posture stiffened.
“I’m no snitch. I’m only saying. Nothing can come of it. That’s a worse match for her than Maddox.”
“She knows that. So does Janos, I wager.” Jake frowned, feeling uneasy. He rather wished now he hadn’t said anything. He hoped it wasn’t a mistake to confide in the carrot-head, but keeping secrets from her was pointless. She always got it out of him in the end. “How’s he doing, anyway? Have you seen him?”
She dropped a blob of tartar sauce on her fish cake and shook her head. “He’s been keeping to himself. Still holed up in that crypt out on the memorial grounds.”
Jake winced. “Poor devil. We should go and see him. Do you know if anyone has talked to him?”
“Sir Peter has tried. Ravyn Vambrace, too. And Aleeyah, I think. But he doesn’t want visitors. He barely comes out, even at night.” Dani paused. “But, you know, that might be for the best. For his own safety.”
“What do you mean?”
She fiddled with her fork. “A lot of people don’t like him being here. Some more than others. I heard that Lord Badgerton put up a terrible stink about it—no pun intended,” she added wryly, considering the man was the uncle of the skunkies. “A lot of people here seem to think Janos is a threat.”
“He’s not a threat, he’s a hero!”
She shrugged. “All I know is that Master Balinor himself gave Janos permission to remain on the premises—after consulting with his owl, of course.”
“Well, good. Because he’s probably got nowhere else to go.” Jake scowled with an angry pang for his vampire friend. “Maybe if they’d reinstate him as a Guardian…”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Dani took a swallow from her glass of milk while Jake fumed.
“It’s so unfair! I wish there was something I could do.”
It wasn’t as though he could just buy a second mechanical toy monkey to cheer Janos up—although the absurd gift had certainly made Aunt Ramona crack a smile, and that was no easy feat.
The Elder witch had stared at the thing without comprehension for a long moment after Jake wound it up and presented it to her.
The stern old lady had watched the silly toy go marching back and forth across the table in their suite, clapping its cymbals for her and stomping its little monkey feet.
All the kids had fought back laughter watching her stare at it, looking almost offended. And then, abruptly, almost in spite of herself, Aunt Ramona had burst out laughing, unaware of them all waiting to see her reaction.
Relieved she got the joke, Jake and his cousins then passed out the bags of candy they had brought back for the others from the Confectioner’s Emporium.
Nixie had been delighted with her candy skulls, Dani scarfed down all her chocolate truffles, and even Maddox broke his no-sweets rule to try the sour lollipop that Isabelle had brought him.
Just when they had finished their candy, the dinner bell chimes had rung throughout the palace, summoning all guests down to the dining hall.
And so here they were, at about eight o’clock in the evening.
By now, the meal was almost over and Jake had managed to eat everything on his plate. Leaning back in his chair, Jake had to admit he was feeling pretty good (other than his guilt over Janos).
He was back with his friends, and, as always, the feast the brownie chefs had prepared had been outrageously delicious. He had eaten like a half-starved hog and was beginning to feel a trifle sleepy as a result. After all, it had been a very hard day.
Reflecting on the afternoon’s events was a little unnerving, truth be told. Indeed, despite their in-depth conversation, there were certain things he did not care to discuss even with Dani.
Like his humiliating fight with Lord Wyvern.
It had shaken Jake up more than he cared to admit. Because, deep down, he knew full well that the Nephilim warlock had trounced him with ease.
Aye, Wyvern could have killed them all today if he had wanted to. Instead, he had given Jake that bloodcurdling speech about him becoming the Black Prince.
His son.
Jake shuddered, avoiding his friends’ gazes as his grim thoughts churned.
He wanted no part of that so-called destiny, but a part of him wondered if he really had a choice. What if Isabelle had not sent the unicorns when she did, or if they had arrived two minutes later?
Much as he hated to admit it, he was scared. He had not let himself feel it at the time, but it was catching up to him now. Real, cold fear of someone was not an emotion he was used to, and he really didn’t like the way it felt.
But it was unsettling to think how close he had come to being abducted today—right off the grounds of his own home. If not for the unicorns, he probably would’ve been carried off to the Black Fortress, possibly forever. And that surely would have started the long-dreaded war.
As Dani chattered on cheerfully beside him, however, he forced himself to remember that all’s well that ends well. That was all that mattered. Wyvern and Fionnula had left Griffon Castle empty-handed.
Catastrophe had been averted. And even though his own home wasn’t safe for him anymore, at least, here, the Dark Druids couldn’t get him.
Aye, Jake mused, slowly scanning the dining hall full of Magick-folk, it was very good to be back.
Of course, not everyone looked overjoyed to see him again. Glancing around the huge room, Jake could not help but notice more than a few cold stares.
Most of the kids who spotted him smiled, but many of the adults—djinnis, centaurs, and mages alike—shot disapproving glances in his direction; others, especially the Greenfolk, looked downright fearful at his return.
Jake rolled his eyes at their reaction. I’m not going to turn into a bloody Dark Druid! he wanted to yell.
But he dropped his gaze and minded his own business. For, as irked as he was by their suspicion, he realized this was probably nothing compared to what Janos had to deal with around here.
No wonder he stayed holed up in that tomb. Jake couldn’t blame him. Blimey, maybe he could find another unoccupied crypt out there in the Merlin Hall burial grounds, and the two of them could be neighbors—a couple of outcasts—the doomed living among the dead.
Since his own musings were beginning to depress him, Jake ignored the unfriendly glances and turned his full attention back to the cheerful redhead. The wise thing was to focus on the people who liked him.
“So what else have I missed?” he asked the carrot, forcing a taut smile.
“Let’s see…” Chipper as ever, Dani told him about The Lightrider’s Handbook, her class manual. She gushed on about her endless gratitude to one Mr. Penwick Calavast, who turned out to be the brownie librarian. Jake didn’t know he had a name.
Then Dani mentioned her newfound friendship with some kid called Brian.
And Jake’s full attention zeroed in.
Hmm. As he listened to her stories from class, she seemed so familiar with this American stranger that Jake wasn’t sure how to feel. But jealousy was for idiots.
And yet, the whole time they’d been sitting there, he had not failed to notice how many kids said hello to Dani as they passed by their table on the way to or from the
buffet.
She waved to people he didn’t even know, and that made him feel odd…and vaguely excluded.
But why was he surprised? She had been chosen for the Lightrider program, and that brought her a whole new status in the eyes of everyone here.
She had clearly become very popular while he was away. Jake was happy for her. And yet…
“So who is this Brian again?” he asked ever so casually.
“Oh—like I said, he’s usually my partner when Finnderool makes us team up with the Guardian group.”
“Aha,” Jake murmured, scrutinizing her.
“Don’t worry, you’ll like him.” She turned around in her chair and began craning her neck, glancing around the vast dining hall. “He’s really nice.”
Oh, is he?
“Very easy to get along with. He’s pretty good at all that Guardian stuff, too. I could introduce you—”
“That’s all right! I mean, maybe later,” Jake added, not wanting to seem rude. “It’s been rather a long day.”
That was putting it mildly.
Considering he could still practically feel Wyvern’s boot planted on his back, grinding him down into the gravel, Jake was in no mood for meeting new people.
Especially “really nice” boys who had struck up a friendship with his carrot.
Time for a change of subject, Jake thought, before Dani remembered that he, for his part, wasn’t always very nice at all.
“So.” Jake reached for his half-empty glass of cider. “Anything else been happening around here that I should know about? Have they caught the mole?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Hm! Wonder why. You’d think they’d have got him by now. What else?”
“Well…that happened, you’ll have noticed.” She nodded discreetly at Nixie.
Jake looked over at the black-clad witch, hiding his smile. “Yes. I had noticed that.” How could he not? Ah, Nixie.
The little non-conformist had given herself another of her ill-advised haircuts. This one involved jaggedy, crooked bangs.
Archie had declared it smashing—but, of course, he too was an eccentric (and her beau).
Jake wasn’t sure what to call what she’d done to herself.
Nixie either liked her strange new style or was too proud to admit she had made a mistake, for she could’ve fixed it with a spell.
Dani’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Personally, I think she pulls it off.”
He bit his lip. “If you say so.”
“What?” Nixie prompted. She’d been just about to take another bite of her pasta in cream sauce when she’d noticed them talking about her.
“Oh, nothing,” Jake said with an innocent smile.
She frowned, but just then, he noticed a flash of a pointy red hat appear for a second in the wedge of empty space between Isabelle’s chair and Archie’s.
It disappeared, then popped up again an instant later. It remained this time, but wobbled back and forth a bit.
“Um, Izzy?” Jake said in amusement.
“Yes?” Having moved on to the sweets course after finishing her vegetarian risotto, she was savoring spoonfuls of a fluffy vanilla syllabub. Engrossed in her treat, she hadn’t noticed the determined red hat.
“I think somebody’s trying to get your attention.” Jake pointed politely.
Izzy swiveled her head to her right and saw nothing.
“Look down,” Jake said.
She did. “Oh! Hello,” she said, startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
A portion of a blue-sleeved arm and a tiny gnome hand clutching a small envelope were thrust up toward her on an angle.
“Do be careful or you’ll fall,” she said in alarm.
As she quickly snatched the envelope out of the gnome’s grasp, Jake could only surmise that one of the grumpy wee fellows had climbed up on one of his comrades’ shoulders in order to reach the table.
“Thank you very much,” Izzy added, then opened the note and read it.
Dani nudged Jake and arched a brow, clearly wondering if the note had come from Janos.
But in the next moment, Izzy glanced around the table. “Everyone! Aunt Ramona says we have to finish eating. We are to join the adults in ten minutes in Parlor 16.”
“Why?” Maddox asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin. Jake had noticed the hungry Guardian was on his third helping of hearty lamb stew.
Izzy shrugged. “Aunt Ramona didn’t say, but they want us all there posthaste.”
“I wonder what’s going on,” Archie said.
Jake slid a dubious glance toward his boy cousin. “Sounds like another family meeting.”
“Lord,” Dani murmured. “What have they got in store for us now?”
Jake finished his drink and wiped his mouth with a nod, then rose from the table. “Let’s go find out.”
CHAPTER 46
A New Mission
From the moment Jake and his friends strolled into Parlor 16 down the hallway from the dining room, it was immediately clear that the six adults already present in the gilded drawing room had exchanged harsh words before they arrived.
The elegant sitting room bristled with tension. All the kids sensed it the moment they stepped over the threshold; their jovial mood evaporated as they hurried in and quietly sat down on the gold velvet settees and rose-striped armchairs arranged around the elegant salon.
Only Red’s presence calmed the strained atmosphere a bit. The Gryphon had been sitting in the corner, serenely watching what must’ve been quite a row. When Jake came in, the noble beast left his spot and prowled over to sit next to his chair.
Jake rested his hand atop the Gryphon’s head and began scratching his feathers automatically. But he watched the adults with a twist of anxiety in his solar plexus. Adults thought they hid things from kids, but they generally couldn’t, and their fighting amongst themselves was never a good sign.
Dani sent Jake a worried look as she got comfortable on the settee next to Isabelle. Jake glanced around at the others. A frown skimmed Maddox’s face as he sat down on the other side of the room. Nixie and Archie shared a double seat with a curved back.
Uncle Richard closed the parlor door with a glint of anger in his blue eyes, and the family meeting came to order.
The source of the trouble soon became clear.
Archie and Isabelle’s parents were livid over the attack on Griffon Castle.
“This is thoroughly unacceptable!” Aunt Claire exclaimed. “How many more times must I find out only afterward that someone has tried yet again to murder my children?”
Derek mumbled an apology and Miss Helena tried to explain, but the glamorous aristocrat shushed them both.
“No.” The viscountess shot the twins and Derek—and even Aunt Ramona—a glare. “You’ve done your best, I’m sure,” she clipped out. “But I see now that Lord Bradford and I have no choice but to keep the children with us if we wish them to survive to adulthood.”
“Mother!” Archie said.
“Archimedes, silence,” she ordered, turning sharply to her son, her honey-blond side-curls swinging against her cheeks. The rest of her thick hair was gathered and pinned back in elaborate masses of gold curls.
Viscountess Bradford was considered beautiful by many, with her ivory skin, brown eyes fringed with luxurious, dark lashes, and a small, round, rather charming beauty mark above one corner of her mouth.
She waved her fan in agitation as she paced, her peach satin bustle gown trailing out behind her. Lace dripped from the sleeves halfway up her forearms; always supremely fashionable, she also wore a ribbon choker necklace the same shade as her gown.
“We are your parents,” she said, “and ultimately, we are the ones responsible for your safety.”
“Your mother’s right,” Uncle Richard chimed in. “The decision’s made. We will look after you ourselves. All of you,” he added, glancing sternly at Jake.
Jake lowered his gaze. He was not about to
argue with his uncle, but he and Dani exchanged a discreet look. Where had these two been this whole time, if they were so concerned?
“Mum, Dad, it’s all right, really,” Archie said. “You needn’t worry. We always manage to come through it right as rain when we work together. There’s no need to go flying up into the boughs!”
“Honest!” Isabelle agreed with a wide-eyed nod. “We are quite unscathed, I promise.”
“And we mean to keep you that way, darling,” Uncle Richard said indulgently to his daughter. Looking every inch the aristocrat, the viscount leaned on the table at the front of the room, heels crossed, arms folded across his chest, signet ring gleaming on his pinky finger.
A trim, elegant man in his late thirties, he was clean-shaven, with firm, classic features. Though he had removed his jacket after dinner, taking his leisure in loose linen shirtsleeves, his light silk waistcoat and pinstriped charcoal trousers were expertly tailored.
With his thatch of wavy sable hair and thoughtful blue eyes, Lord Bradford bore a striking family resemblance to Jake’s mother, Elizabeth, as shown in the family portrait in the great hall back at Griffon Castle.
No wonder. They were brother and sister, after all.
“This nonsense has gone on long enough,” he declared. “What happened with Waldrick was not your fault, of course. And I suppose there was no harm done with your visit to the giants, in hindsight. But you poor children should never have been subjected to the likes of Garnock the Sorcerer—to say nothing of Davy Jones.” The diplomat shuddered. “Now Wyvern’s come after you? Who’s next? Shemrazul?”
“Father!” Archie muttered.
“No, son. It’s too much to place on the shoulders of people your age.”
They meant well, Jake supposed. And better late than never. Yet he had a nagging feeling that he and his pals would still end up having to save themselves in the end—and probably his aunt and uncle, too.
Adults. Jake somehow managed not to shake his head.
“Obviously, Richard and I are very disappointed…”
As Aunt Claire resumed her polite rant, Jake and the rest of the kids stared down at the flowery whorls of the carpet or the white marble fireplace, at the gold velvet curtains or the painted glass shades on the tall brass globe lamps flickering on the end tables.
