by E. G. Foley
“As the nymphs brought you closer to London, the Thames became too polluted near the city. They couldn’t breathe. They would have died—to say nothing of the danger from all the fishing nets and hooks and steamships and paddlewheels. The river has grown dangerous for them in these modern times. There was nothing they could do. Besides, you weren’t too far from Beacon House.”
“So they abandoned me?” he exclaimed.
“They had no choice. They let the current take you. They expected you to be quickly retrieved by someone from the Order. Half of Parliament saw you float by, you know. It must have been quite a sight—a little baby drifting down the river in a picnic basket.”
“I could’ve been run over by a ship!”
“But you weren’t. The water nymphs watched from a safe distance and everything would’ve been fine—if only it weren’t for a stranger’s act of kindness.”
Jake furrowed his brow in confusion.
“The water nymphs saw a fisherman rescue you. That wasn’t in the plan. He should’ve let you go and then we’d have easily found you. But he plucked you out of the water and as best we can tell, took you to a doctor to make sure you were not hurt and then home to his wife so she could feed you. At some point, he must have handed you over to his parish priest, who gave you to the orphanage, in turn, and that’s how we lost track of you.”
Jake stared at him. “You lost me?”
“Do you know how many fishermen’s boats ply the river every day, Jake? Hundreds!” Derek exclaimed, his rugged face coloring with embarrassment. “To say nothing of how many orphanages there are these days in London. You were a needle in a haystack, Jake! Believe me, we did our best to find you. We tried.”
“You tried? With all the magic powers and whatnot, how was it that none of you could find me?”
“Jake, believe me, this has been a major embarrassment to the Order,” Derek said in chagrin. “But our search was further complicated by the Kinderveil.”
“What’s that?”
He strove for patience. “All magical children are protected from birth by a naturally occurring spell called the Kinderveil. It cloaks their location from those who would do them harm. Unfortunately, as we found out, it also hides them from their friends.”
Jake threw up his hands with a huff.
Derek continued trying to explain. “The gifted have many enemies, and we are at our most vulnerable as children before we get our powers. It’s like that Darwin fellow said. Those who have some sort of useful adaptation can survive, and those who don’t, don’t tend to live long enough to have children. Well, the gifted humans who survived were those born with the Kinderveil. By now, all of us have it. There’s nothing we can do about it. No magic is more powerful than that which comes directly out of nature.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “From the moment that well-meaning fisherman plucked you out of the water, from our standpoint, it was as if you’d vanished.”
“I was right here! In London!”
“We tried to find you by human means, as well!” Derek was clearly getting flustered. “I personally combed this city for two years! Do you know how many babies are left at foundling hospitals and on church doorsteps every day? Scores of ‘em! I examined every one of them, and God forgive me, but if I came across you, I would not have known it. After a few dozen, they all looked the same to me, more or less. I didn’t want to save the wrong kid and give him your father’s title! Look, your parents’ death left me in a daze. I still don’t understand why I didn’t sense the danger in the first place—” He shut up abruptly and looked away.
“What?” Jake demanded.
“Never mind. We tried, Jake. We failed. I can’t do anything about the past anymore except to tell you how sorry I am, and we all are, for how we let you down. But at least we have you now. I will do all in my power to ensure you have the best future possible.”
Jake sat down again, disgruntled, but Derek was right. What was done was done. If nothing else, orphanage life had made him a survivor. He wasn’t going to sit here and blubber about it. “So how did you finally manage to find me?”
Derek looked relieved at his businesslike tone. “The Kinderveil wears off around the age of twelve or so, when magical youngsters begin to get their powers. Then I was able to sense you and home in on your location.”
“You can do that?”
“It’s called the Guardian instinct.” Derek turned his back to him and went to pour himself a second drink.
Jake watched him skeptically. If a Guardian could sense when someone was in danger, then why hadn’t Derek been there to protect his parents, if they were such great friends?
“I can promise you one thing, Jake.” The warrior turned around and faced him with a brooding look. “The man who killed your parents got what he deserved. Hanging was too good for him, if you ask me.”
Derek stalked over and pulled a file out of a drawer, tossing it onto the desk. “This contains the details from the investigation.”
Jake braced himself, then opened it. The first thing he saw was a newspaper clipping with a grainy, black-and-white photograph.
Derek tapped it angrily. “Here. If you want to see his face, this is your parents’ killer. Sir George Hobbes.”
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 somethi
ng?” 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.