by E. G. Foley
The bodies of people you murdered. Your own brother. Your sister-in-law.
Waldrick closed his eyes when they started adjusting to the gloom. He did not want to see. Some feeble light came in from small, high windows filled with thick glass blocks high up on the walls. But he refused to look at the twin sarcophagi—at first.
But then, after all those months in prison, brooding on his wicked deeds and trying his best to be a man and take responsibility for what he had done, he finally decided to face up to his crimes for once and for all.
Gathering his paltry courage, Waldrick flicked his eyes open and forced himself to look.
It was then that he got the shock of his life. He stared blankly at what he saw, then rubbed his eyes and looked again.
The picture didn’t change. Incredulity sent chills down his spine.
How can this be?
Jacob and Elizabeth, as the Earl and Countess of Griffon, had been buried side by side in stately marble sarcophagi, each resting on solid stone pillars. Their coffins nested inside these white marble casings, well protected for centuries to come.
But something was wrong. Drastically wrong. Waldrick stared in utter confusion.
Both sarcophagi sat open, their heavy stone lids cast aside.
“What’s this?” he whispered. Because even from the spot where he leaned against the door, he could see that the lids of both inner coffins had been propped open too. And inside…
The coffins were empty.
He stared without comprehension. But I murdered them. I went to prison for it. The question suddenly exploded in his brain.
Well, if they are not here, then where the devil are they?
Are they even dead?
What is going on?
His mind reeling, Waldrick lurched away from the door and took a slow walk around the dusky interior of the mausoleum, staring at the two empty coffins where their bodies should have been.
He felt sick with confusion, utter bafflement…and the dawning realization that somebody had lied to him.
His eyes narrowed.
Fionnula.
Waldrick looked up from the coffins, listening in the direction of the battle sounds.
Rushing into his mind came the memory of all those sly glances he had seen pass between Wyvern and the sea-witch. As if the two of them were sharing some deliciously conniving plot.
It was then, deep down in the pit of his stomach, Waldrick realized that Fionnula—his ladylove, his supposed partner in crime—had clearly betrayed him somewhere along the way.
He did not know how or why or any of the details. But he could smell her treachery a mile away. It was the only explanation.
His eyes narrowed. What are you playing at, you soggy hag?
Nobody made a fool of Waldrick Everton. What have you done with my brother and his wife?
Oh, by Jove, I will get to the bottom of this. Hardening his will, Waldrick marched back to the mausoleum door and cocked his head, listening intently for the Gryphon.
Hearing nothing close by, he pulled the door open a crack, peeked out, and confirmed that Red was busy battling the stone gryphons in the sky well over by the castle.
Relieved, Waldrick sneaked out of the tomb with the utmost caution. Then he pranced and hopped his way back to the blue, misty path with all haste, his feet smarting until he reached it.
On his way, he did notice more sounds of mayhem emanating from the direction of the castle, but he did not intend to stick around and find out what was happening.
As soon as he reached the glowing blue trail, he headed for the carriage, determined as ever to save his own skin.
This time, his did not mind wading back through the creek, as the water cooled off his feet. But as he climbed back up the other grassy bank, and then hurried down the road to wait inside the carriage, he made a solemn pact with himself to hide what he’d learned from the witch and the warlock.
It was tempting to ask questions, but something told him that it was better for his health to play dumb.
No matter. He could be devious when the occasion called—just like Jacob had accused him so long ago.
One way or another, he would get to the bottom of this. And if Fionnula had double-crossed him, by Jove, the sea-witch would be sorry.
CHAPTER 39
The Battle of Griffon Castle
After what Teddy had just told Isabelle, Jake and his cousins looked at each other and all thought the same thing: Run!
At once, Jake turned and darted off the arched stone bridge. He started pounding toward the castle.
Archie wasn’t far behind. Isabelle scooped the dog up into her arms to keep him safe and raced after the boys.
Leaving the bridge, Jake and his cousins ran the rest of the way to the grounds of Griffon Castle. The closer they went, the more disturbing the entire scene grew.
Dark clouds swirled overhead, and a strong breeze blew, but only in the vicinity of his estate. Jake was worried sick about Red, Derek, and Helena.
Henry had returned to Bradford Park, since Jake’s private classes had been canceled for the day. But the servants were all on duty at the castle, and Fionnula had turned the poor people into frogs before.
His dread mounted when he heard Red screech somewhere in the sky, but he could not see his Gryphon on account of the trees as he veered off the road, dashing through the open wrought-iron gates at the end of the driveway.
“Hold on!” Archie said, skidding to a halt a few feet behind him.
Jake turned; Archie pointed, panting.
“Aren’t there supposed to be stone gryphons on top of those pillars?”
“Blimey,” Jake mumbled.
The decorative gryphons were gone. A bit of cement rubble littered the base of the pillars.
“Oh no,” Isabelle murmured as she caught up. She hugged Teddy closer as she gawped at the empty brick pedestals flanking the drive.
Jake had a bad feeling about this. “C’mon, you lot. We’d better stick together.”
His cousins moved closer and, together, they sneaked toward the castle, taking cover behind a massive evergreen shrub.
Huddled there, they could finally manage to see what was happening on the lawn.
Jake clenched his jaw, his heart pounding; his home was under attack by a wand-wielding enemy he had never hoped to see again.
Blast it, Fionnula had turned his servants back into frogs!
His cousins fumed on either side of him, seeing this as well. Teddy growled. Izzy wrapped her fingers around his snout to keep him from barking.
Jake glared to see that Fionnula had also trapped Derek and leopard-Helena under a giant glass bell jar—like knickknacks or dried flowers to be put on display.
The sea-witch cackled with glee as leopard-Helena loped around the perimeter of the huge bell jar, trying to find a way out.
He could see Derek yelling at Fionnula, but the bell jar silenced him. His face stamped with fury, the master Guardian kicked again and again at the thick glass walls of the container without even making a crack.
“Sweet Bacon,” Archie murmured. “I use jars like that in the lab to contain gases. They’re airtight! Before long, Derek and Helena won’t be able to breathe. We’ve got to get them out of there before they run out of oxygen.”
Jake did not take his eyes off the scene before him. “How?”
“Well…let’s see.” Archie pushed his spectacles up higher onto his nose. “I’ve got a kerosene blowtorch in my lab at home.”
Jake looked at him, then shrugged. “Of course you do.”
“I could at least cut some air holes in the glass so they can breathe until we can free them.”
Jake nodded. “Good plan.”
“Um, Jake? I think I found the gryphons from your driveway pillars.” Isabelle pointed discreetly at the sky.
Jake drew in his breath as Red zoomed into sight above the castle, circling from the distance.
Right behind him, the two stone gryphons gave chase, s
quawking at Red and doing their best to knock him out of the sky.
The animated gryphons were harrying and hectoring the real one, leaving Red unable to do anything about Fionnula—or Waldrick, if he was truly here.
Jake didn’t see him anywhere. Nor did he see the third man Teddy had reported.
“Do you think it was Fionnula who brought those statues to life?” Izzy asked, peeking over Jake’s shoulder. “It doesn’t really seem like her style of magic, what with water and all.
“No, but we know of someone else who’s very adept at manipulating stone,” Jake said grimly. “Remember those rock golems in Greece?”
At that moment, an overly tall and muscular man with brown hair strode into view, wand in hand.
The kids ducked instinctively behind the bush, but the stranger didn’t see them. He was watching Fionnula as he crossed the lawn, heading for the house.
He said something to her, but his voice was too low for them to hear.
“Sweet Euclid,” Archie murmured, “is that who I think it is? Here?”
Jake stared at the oversized man, a cold knot of dread in his gut. “Well, it isn’t Uncle Waldrick.”
Their uncle had no magical powers to speak of, but the towering stranger now blasted the front door of the castle off its hinges with a flick of his wand.
Then he went inside.
Jake seethed at the intrusion into his home. But what was mere trespassing when one was already a member of the Dark Druid Council?
“Wyvern,” he growled. “What’s he doing in my house?”
Isabelle gave him an ominous look. “Probably looking for you, coz.”
Archie nodded, worry in his eyes. “Because of the prophecy. Bet he’s come to recruit you.”
“Well, it’s not going to work.” Jake turned to them as they remained crouched down behind the huge green shrubbery. “Here’s the plan. You two get to Bradford Park. Iz, put Teddy somewhere safe, then find Henry. We need his help. After that, send an Inkbug message to Aunt Ramona—better yet, just send a telepathic message to Janos that we’re in trouble—”
“It’s daytime. He can’t help us.” She shook her head. “But don’t worry. I’ll bring help, believe me.”
Jake nodded, unsure what she meant, but, trusting the girl to her own devices, he looked at Archie. “You bring your blowtorch and make sure Derek and Helena can breathe. I’ll cover you.”
“What are you going to do, Jake?” Izzy asked.
“Help Red, for starters. Then deal with Fionnula.”
“Be careful,” Izzy warned.
He nodded. “Go. Keep an eye out for Uncle Waldrick. He could be lurking here anywhere—and don’t let Fionnula see you, either, until I’ve neutralized the situation.”
“You’re going to neutralize Zolond’s second-in-command?” Archie asked.
“Have a little faith! I’m not afraid of him,” Jake said.
“That’s what worries us,” Izzy mumbled, but when Jake scowled at them, the Bradford siblings crept away, leaving their bags of candy by the shrub and sneaking off through the woods toward their adjoining estate.
“Right,” Jake whispered to himself. At least he didn’t have to take on both witch and warlock at the same time. But he was not going to stand by and let them wreak havoc on his home and the people he loved.
Fists clenched, Jake rose. His heart pounded as he strode up the rest of the driveway toward the lawn.
He watched the aerial battle overhead as he approached, assessing how best to destroy the stone gryphons attacking Red.
But then, while he was still marching up the drive toward the courtyard in front of the castle, a chilling howl echoed out across the grass.
Fionnula turned toward the sound. It was coming from the direction of Bradford Park.
The howl was unnerving, even though Jake knew exactly what—or rather, who—it was.
Henry must’ve smelled trouble all on his own, or sensed his twin’s distress, for Archie and Isabelle had obviously not reached their home yet.
Jake was torn between relief that adult help was on the way and dread over what a shapeshifter could possibly do to the likes of Fionnula, let alone Wyvern.
He trusted his tutor to use his head, but the thought of anything happening to their oh-so-civilized Henry was terrible.
With this new factor thrown in, Jake suddenly wasn’t sure how to proceed. Red had flown out of range again, so he couldn’t do much there yet.
Keeping low, Jake approached the lawn, crouching behind the underbrush as he ventured closer to Fionnula. Her back was turned as she watched the distance.
Henry’s howl seemed to have riveted her. No doubt it had been his intention to draw the danger to himself.
“Chivalry, Jake,” as his tutor had told him so many times.
They did not have to wait long for the shapeshifting tutor to join the fray. Wolves were fast, especially when their assigned cubs were in danger.
It seemed only seconds later that a massive gray wolf exploded out of the underbrush, barreling top-speed toward the sea-witch, barking and snarling. All of the mild-mannered tutor’s inner viciousness had been unleashed.
Closing the distance between him and Fionnula in a streak of thick gray fur, wolf-Henry leaped into the air to tackle her, fangs bared.
With a shriek, Fionnula brought up her wand.
Jake bit back a shout of protest as the bolt of magic hit his tutor.
Wolf-Henry froze in midair, motionless and floating. He didn’t seem injured, but neither could he move. He looked rather startled, floating there, mid-leap, some three feet off the ground.
Jake could almost hear him: “Oh dear.”
Inside the bell jar, leopard-Helena roared and pounced against the glass, no doubt threatening Fionnula not to harm her suspended brother.
Derek, meanwhile, had turned and seen Jake approaching. The Guardian paled, then began mouthing and gesturing at Jake to go away, somehow avoiding Fionnula’s attention.
“Get out of here! Hide! It’s Wyvern!”
Derek pointed toward the house, trying to warn him that the infamous Nephilim lord was inside.
Jake shook his head, giving his mentor a shrug that said, I already know!
Then he noticed Red heading back his way and forgot about Derek for now.
Summoning up his telekinesis, he took aim, then announced his arrival on the scene by exploding one of the stone gryphons tailing Red right out of the sky.
He took care to shatter it when it was well away from the giant bell jar. He didn’t want to break the bell jar and send chunks of sharp glass raining down on Derek and Helena.
The second stone gryphon let out an angry screech and headed toward Jake. He brought up his right hand and launched a blow, blasting it into a thousand pieces.
Red roared with pride, then came gliding down to land by his side.
Fionnula glared at him. “Well, look who it is. Such a naughty boy.”
She aimed her wand at him, but Jake was faster, knocking it out of the witch’s grasp with a wave of his hand. It hurtled end over end through the air, and the bolt of magic she had tried to shoot at Jake flew wide.
The wand bounced harmlessly onto the ground, merely scorching the grass where it landed.
“Guard her, Red,” Jake ordered.
The Gryphon growled, all too happy to obey. He leaped in front of Fionnula, blocking her path when she tried to retrieve her wand.
She stopped in her tracks, eyes widening as Red snarled and reared up, his wings out, his tufted tail thrashing. She stood frozen, too terrified to move, but not much use without her wand.
Red placed himself between the sea-witch and her most vital tool.
Jake got to work trying to lift the bell jar off Derek and Helena with his telekinesis, but Fionnula must have anticipated him trying that, for the thing wouldn’t budge.
He kept trying anyway.
“There, there, kitty-bird,” Fionnula said to Red with a nervous laugh, lifting h
er hands in token surrender. “Perhaps I can sing you a little ditty.”
“Don’t even try it,” Jake warned her. “Start singing, and I tell him to attack.”
Red roared at her for good measure; Fionnula squealed with fright.
“Nathan!” she hollered, glancing anxiously toward the castle.
Jake followed her gaze.
Trusting Red to guard the sea-witch, he turned his attention to the tall, cold-eyed man who now appeared, looming in the doorway of the castle.
“Nathan, do something!”
The towering stranger ignored the sea-witch, his stare homing in on Jake.
“Well, well. Who have we here?” A wary smile crept across his face as the stranger stepped out of the castle. “My little Lord Griffon. We meet at last.”
* * *
Wyvern gazed at the boy in amazement. He could not deny he was impressed.
You see? Shemrazul whispered in his mind. I told you.
You did, Wyvern answered mentally.
It was one thing to hear secondhand about Jake’s various exploits, but seeing them firsthand—seeing him—struck Wyvern profoundly.
Moments ago, he had been inside the house working to locate the vault and ignoring the mild queasiness he felt from the scratch of that blasted Gryphon.
A wound from such creatures contained a sort of venom noxious to those on the dark side. Eh, he’d had worse.
Walking through the castle, surveying its fine rooms, and gazing coldly at the family portrait of those two Lightriders with their infant son, Wyvern had soon found the place where the vault was hidden. Then he’d heard a long, haunting howl. He had rushed over to the nearest window and looked out just in time to see Jake use his telekinesis to explode the stone gryphons.
Wyvern had stared with astonishment at the lad’s ferocity and skill. He had seen many things in his day, but never such ability in one so young. And then, when the young scoundrel had defeated Fionnula with a mere flick of his hand, Wyvern had been flooded with an even greater eagerness to meet his future son.
He knew he had to handle this carefully, though.
Already on his way, he was marching toward the door when Fionnula shrieked his name. (Wyvern had long since decided that his future queen was a little annoying. But so be it.)