by E. G. Foley
“Who?” several people asked.
Aleeyah gazed apologetically at Aunt Ramona before she said the words.
“The Griffon heir. Jake Everton.”
Aunt Ramona’s face turned ashen, and up in the gallery, Jake’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He listened, frozen.
Aleeyah glanced around nervously at all the important folk of so many types and varieties.
“According to Duradel’s prophecy, this boy has a destiny. Either to become the cult’s nemesis, destroying them completely, or…the greatest leader the Dark Druids have ever had.”
Low-toned exclamations raced throughout the chamber, but Jake barely breathed.
Aleeyah hesitated. “That’s why they’re after him. It’s not because he ruined Garnock’s attempt to bring himself back to life. It was, at first—but not anymore.
“Some want to destroy him. Others want to recruit him,” she said in a loud voice. “Because Duradel’s prophecy means that Jake will either smash the Dark Druids one day—or he’ll smash the Order.”
The parliament hall erupted at the news.
Jake drew in his breath and ducked behind the railing.
While shouts and exclamations exploded throughout the chamber below, he slumped with his back against the half wall and stared unseeingly at the floor. His heart pounded like it might bruise his ribs.
Me?
The delegates were beside themselves down there.
“This is outrageous! That boy started all this! He broke the truce—and now we all have to pay the price?”
“They say he destroyed Davy Jones, as well! He’s far too powerful for any mere lad! It’s unnatural!”
“It comes from his having two Lightriders for parents! Their match should never have been allowed!”
“Don’t forget, his uncle was corrupted—a murderer!” someone warned. “What if he follows in Waldrick Everton’s footsteps?”
Jake was appalled at the mere thought that that could even be possible.
He felt dizzy with dread as he listened to the clamor of the whole magical parliament yelling and arguing about him.
“What else does Duradel say?” someone cried.
“That’s all I know!” Aleeyah shouted back.
“If this is true, we’ve got to get the boy out of here. He’s dangerous! He can’t stay here. We have to think of the other children!”
“Aye! Oubliette Jake Everton—and quickly!”
“Never!” Aunt Ramona boomed from the podium, silencing them. “You would believe the lies of the enemy? The blathering of this corrupt Drow priest? My nephew is a good boy—and he has already done great deeds beyond the capability of many in this chamber! He would never turn against us!”
Jake listened, stricken, to the Elder witch defending him.
“But, with all due respect, Lady Bradford, he has already begun to show signs of wickedness,” someone shot back in a dire tone.
Jake recognized the voice of Lord Badgerton.
“Let none forget the boy was a thief when Guardian Stone tracked him down.”
“He was starving!” Aunt Ramona yelled louder than Jake had ever heard her before.
The rebuke from the Elder witch rang throughout the chamber. “Listen to yourselves! Jake is just a boy.”
“Well, Zolond was a boy once, too!” someone retorted.
That comment took Jake completely off guard.
Zolond? They’re comparing me to Dark Master Zolond?
Perhaps the anonymous remark had taken Aunt Ramona aback too, for in the next moment, the firm footfalls Jake heard sounded like the angry dowager baroness marching off the dais.
“Order in the chamber, if you please! Everybody, please, just calm down…” Sir Peter smoothly asserted control over the chaos that returned across the chamber. “Let’s all take a breath, shall we? I think it best if we adjourn now for the midday meal. We’ll resume our meeting as scheduled after lunch, once we’ve all had some time to think about this.”
While the representatives begrudgingly agreed and began rising from the pews, Jake sat on the gallery floor in shock, his back against the half wall.
He stared straight ahead at nothing, his heart slamming in his chest. His brain throbbed with incredulous horror.
Me? The greatest leader the Dark Druids ever had?
How can this be?
From the assembly room below, he could hear the general rumbling of the delegates murmuring among themselves in worried tones and gathering up their papers. Their voices and movements echoed under the high, vaulted ceiling of the chamber.
As they began shuffling toward the exits, he heard creaking as the gnomes opened up the three pairs of heavy wooden doors. But Jake didn’t dare look down to confirm any of this.
No, he was hiding. For if he peeked over the railing now and someone spotting him here spying, it would only seem to confirm that he was a bad seed, destined for evil greatness.
Am I? he wondered, aghast at the possibility.
As a thousand memories barreled through his mind, he could not deny that he was hardly the best-behaved boy in all the world.
For heaven’s sake, he was only thirteen and he’d already spent a night in prison!
He remembered Newgate all too well. Of course, him being him, he’d broken out of there rather than waiting around to serve justice…
Then a rain of coins clinked through his memory as he thought of all the things he’d stolen as a pickpocket. Blimey, what if he had unknowingly taken the last pennies some of his victims possessed?
He thought of the times he’d hoarded to himself whatever extra food he could scrounge, instead of sharing it with the other orphans. And the fine summer days when he’d shirked his duties for his various apprentice masters, sneaking off to have fun instead. No wonder they were always beating him…
His constant bending of the rules, just like Maddox had accused him.
Maddox, who always did the right thing, even if it meant giving up Isabelle. Sure, the older lad could be mean sometimes, but then, so could Jake.
Just yesterday, he realized with a sinking feeling, he had ruined Dani’s moment of triumph with his own petty jealousy.
He winced as this Duradel fellow’s prophecy reflected him back to himself with more cruel truth than any mirror.
Maybe he wasn’t quite Zolond.
Not yet.
But he rarely thought of other people’s feelings, like Izzy did. He did not even know how to be humble and always unselfish like Archie, who had every reason in the world to be arrogant, with that brilliant mind of his.
He didn’t always tell the truth like Maddox did. Far from it. He lied more than Loki.
He lacked the proper gratitude he owed to Aunt Ramona, and Aunt Claire and Uncle Richard, as well, and to Derek and the twins.
And to poor, heartbroken Janos.
Jake hung his head in shame at his own callous reaction of earlier today.
Why, the gallant vampire had sacrificed his own family to save Red, but Jake’s private thought on the matter had been good riddance to a bunch of deadly bloodsuckers.
All in all, the realization hit him like a blow from a giant’s war hammer.
Good Lord, it’s true—I am a terrible person!
Yet he let himself get away with everything because he had the excuse of being an orphan. As if that had cleared him of having to follow the rules that applied to everybody else.
He thought of all the times he’d lashed out at the people he cared about with his sharp tongue and occasional quick temper. All his stupid fights with Maddox; his suspicions of Nixie when they’d first met her; always teasing Archie; his beastly behavior toward Dani yesterday. He was generally nice to Isabelle, because who couldn’t be nice to Isabelle?
But he bossed everyone around constantly—insisted that he knew what he was doing—just so they should go along with his commands. How many times had he nearly got them all killed?
Jake felt sick, seeing it now. Even at thi
s very moment, he looked around at where he was: exactly where he shouldn’t be, of course.
What am I doing?
Oh, and he remembered Dani warning him back in the days when his abilities had first started emerging that such unnatural powers must be of the devil, but he had laughed her off.
Well, he wasn’t laughing now.
This is terrible. I can’t let this happen.
Become the Dark Master when I grow up? Destroy the Order? Betray everyone and everything I love? Turn out even worse than Uncle Waldrick?
Never.
Indeed, Jake realized what would ultimately happen if he ever did turn evil.
Red himself would come hunting him. Then he’d have to fight his own Gryphon.
The thought horrified him.
But in the next moment, the darkest memory of all returned—of that séance with Madame Sylvia in Wales, where he had first come face to face with Garnock the Sorcerer in his phantom form.
Staring at the floor, Jake wrapped his arms around his bent knees, pondering that night as the Gothic chamber finished emptying out below.
The night of the séance, all of the attendees had sat around a table holding hands while Madame Sylvia called down the spirits. A few ghosts had shown up to give messages to their loved ones—Jake could see them.
But no one had been expecting a visit from the evil spirit of the dead alchemist, medieval founder of the Dark Druids.
Garnock had come whooshing in through the wall as a terrifying wraith and immediately started attacking, consuming, the other ghosts.
It was horrible to see, just as bad to hear.
With his own two eyes, Jake had seen how Garnock gained strength from feeding off the other ghosts and even off the living, first projecting dark thoughts and sorrowful moods into his victims, and then draining their life energy to increase his own.
As a phantom, the dead warlock had been invisible to everyone else at the table, even Madame Sylvia, for she could only hear the spirit world, not see into it, as Jake could.
He alone had watched the whole thing unfold in horror. Thankfully, the phantom never realized Jake could see him.
First, Garnock had attacked the other ghosts and either destroyed them or scared them all away. Then he had gone around the table, feeding off the living.
Still a novice at using his powers, Jake had sat there frozen with fear, not knowing what to do.
Then Garnock had got around to him.
Without warning, the dead sorcerer had thrust a terrible vision into Jake’s mind in order to frighten him so he could feed off his fear. Just for a heartbeat, Jake had seen himself grown up, rich and hugely powerful, sitting at the head of the Black Brotherhood…
The terrifying new leader of the Dark Druids.
Thus, Jake had already glimpsed that possible future, long before Duradel had ever made his horrid prophecy.
The vision had broken up quickly, for when Garnock tried to feed on his soul, he got a mouthful of Lightrider energy, thanks to Jake’s bloodlines.
After coughing and gagging, the evil phantom had left Jake alone.
But what if the vision he’d given him was true?
Jake shivered with foreboding.
The image had unsettled him at the time, but he had refused to put any stock in it. He’d told himself that it was just Garnock’s way of torturing him to get the most anguish out of him on which to feed.
But after what Jake had just heard down there in the parliamentary hall, maybe that wasn’t the case.
Maybe Garnock had simply been showing him a picture of Jake’s own dark future.
As the heir to the Black Crown.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head, sickened. No. I can’t let this happen. I won’t. I’ve got to change. Right now, this very moment. Completely.
Whatever it took, he would not allow this version of the future to become reality. No matter what he had to do, he refused to let this prophecy come to pass.
From this moment forward, everything changes.
He would straighten out his act—for real this time. Walk the straight and narrow.
Like Derek. Not Janos.
As much as they all loved the roguish vampire, he had ruined his own life with bad decisions.
Jake vowed that, from now on, he would be patient and polite, like Archie.
He would follow every rule they gave him, like Maddox. Always tell the truth, no matter how painful.
He would put his head down and work hard, like Dani—cheerful, uncomplaining.
He would, like Nixie, no longer expect special treatment just because he’d had it hard in life.
And like Isabelle, henceforward, he would be kind, curbing his temper and his tongue.
Most of all, like the noble Gryphon, he would learn to be unselfish. At least, he would try with all his might.
From now on, Jake vowed, lifting his gaze slowly from the floor, I am going to be good.
Even if it kills me.
CHAPTER 29
Goodbyes
Dani had spent the morning at a classroom orientation with Finnderool’s group of future Lightriders, but it was over all too soon. Barely able to contain her excitement, she rushed over to the library at Merlin Hall, eager to devour every book on Lightriding she could get her hands on.
There, she enlisted the help of the brownie librarian. While explaining the sort of books she wanted, she couldn’t help but spill the big news, whereupon the wee fellow congratulated “the future Lightrider” until she glowed, then eagerly ran around fetching her a whole pile of books to help get her started.
Soon, books towered on the study table before her. She read until her belly rumbled and her eyes burned, but she was still excited to read more later.
Since there were too many books for her to carry, she chose three of the most interesting beginner guides and handbooks and checked them out proudly.
While the brownie librarian stamped them for her, Dani wondered if Jake had ever read any of these volumes.
Probably not. He preferred to learn by doing.
Well, Dani didn’t mind extra reading and practice. On the contrary, she intended to dedicate herself to the program with all of the seriousness it deserved. She was not about to take this opportunity lightly.
For once, she felt her heart soaring with the thought that she could truly be something, do something important with her life.
Still walking on air over her brilliant future as a Lightrider, she headed down the graveled path across the quadrangle, then suddenly stopped in her tracks, for at that moment, an unwelcome sight appeared ahead. Oh great.
The skunkies.
Her favorite people.
Dani’s heart sank. The shapeshifter triplets hadn’t noticed her yet. Normally, she would glance around to find another route that she could take back to the Bradford suite to avoid crossing paths with them.
But future Lightriders didn’t run from anyone, she decided, let alone a trio of obnoxious skunk shapeshifters.
Hmm. She wondered how they’d react when they saw her coveted silver sash. Then she snorted. They’d probably just make fun of her, as usual. At least on the outside. On the inside, they’d be green with envy.
Knowing that, she couldn’t help gloating just a little as she continued on her way, hugging her books to her chest. But any faint hope that the skunkies might mind their own business wilted when the trio saw her coming and blocked the walkway ahead.
Big, moon-faced Charlie planted himself right in the middle of the path, where Prue told him to stand. The devious shapeshifter girl positioned herself on the right, while skinny Welton pushed his glasses up higher onto his big nose, drifting along the left side of the graveled walkway. The runt of the litter looked nervous that the playful breeze zooming about the quadrangle might blow him away like an autumn leaf.
Dani wished it would. Then she noticed that Prue had dyed a front lock of her glossy black hair cobalt blue.
Showoff. She didn’t want t
o admit it, but it looked rather dashing. Too bad. Dani would’ve been in a world of trouble if she ever dyed her hair, but Prue and her brothers could do whatever they wanted.
“Well, well,” Prue said, putting her hands on her hips with a sneer. “If it isn’t the latest recruit for the Lightrider program. Congratulations, Spot.”
Dani checked her temper and pretended to take it as a compliment, ignoring the taunting nickname they had given her on account of her freckles.
“Why, thank you so much,” she said sweetly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to Jake. We’re having lunch.” Dani smiled, well aware that every girl at Merlin Hall had a crush on her beau.
Including Prue.
The spoiled shapeshifter’s beady eyes narrowed to angry slashes.
“Not so fast, Spot!” she said when Dani moved to step between the triplets, determined to continue on her way.
“Where you going?” Charlie asked with a laugh, blocking her path with his large girth.
Welton tittered nervously.
“So. Gaia happened to like you. Who cares! No accounting for taste. I suppose you think you’re very clever now.” Prue folded her arms across her chest, and her two brothers stepped closer.
Dani lifted her chin. She always thought of her eldest brother, Patrick, in such situations.
Patrick O’Dell, Jr. had worked as a bare-knuckle prizefighter for a couple of years before sailing off with Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. Patrick had taught her the value of a well-timed right hook.
“You three had better not start any trouble with me,” Dani advised them. “Not today.”
“Why? What are you going to do about it?” Charlie retorted. “Send your precious Jakey-wakey after us again?”
“I can fight me own battles,” she said, her heart pounding.
Prue scoffed, but Dani shifted her books into her left arm. Just in case she needed her right fist free.
At that moment, thankfully, Sir Peter came striding across the quadrangle, whistling a tune, his hands folded behind his back. He was probably on his way home to the Chancellor’s House nearby to have lunch with Jillian.
But, noticing them there, the dean and chancellor of Merlin Hall stopped, pivoted, and looked at them suspiciously. “Everything all right here?”