by E. G. Foley
Unfortunately for Jake, Derek had heard every word.
“THAT DOES IT!” The Guardian came stomping toward him. “How dare you talk to her like that! Lash out at someone smaller and weaker than you? Badly done, Jacob! Dani O’Dell has risked her life for you—” Derek was so angry he was sputtering. “Forget going to your room! You’re not getting off that easily. Come on! You’re coming with me.”
When Derek reached for his shoulder to steer him toward some new punishment, Jake raised his arm to flick away the warrior’s hand.
“Don’t touch me, I can walk myself!” he started to mutter, but to Jake’s horrified surprise, his telekinesis went off accidentally with his gesture.
A nearby oil-lamp flew off the table, hurling toward Derek’s head. Jake’s eyes widened. Derek caught the lamp in midair. Then he turned at him in shock. “You think you can take me on, you thankless brat?”
“It was an accident!” Jake cried, paling. “I didn’t mean to do it—I swear!”
Derek scowled at him, but must have seen the dread on Jake’s face and believed him. He set the lamp down, but the warrior was clearly not amused. “You obviously need more training in how to control yourself. But don’t worry. The punishment I’ve got in store for you should be just the thing to help you with that.” Grasping him by the scruff of the neck, Derek headed him down the main hallway of the first floor. “Walk.”
“Ow! Where are we going?” Jake struggled like a fish on a line, but Derek was relentless, marching him out the back door to the vegetable garden. “You’re worse than Constable Flanagan!”
“Say whatever you want. You can’t hurt my feelings. Of course, I suppose you prefer to pick on little girls.”
“Why am I the only one in trouble? We all went!” Jake protested as Derek escorted him down the center path of the kitchen garden in this undignified fashion.
“Because you are the ringleader.”
“I didn’t force anyone to follow me! Dani wanted to go to the candy shop as much as I did!”
“Here’s your candy shop, Jakey, old boy.” Derek stopped before a giant pile of stinky, rotting compost.
“What?”
The mound loomed taller than Jake, steaming in the sun. Flies buzzed around it. The smell was horrible, rather like manure.
“Disgusting! What is that?” Grimacing, Jake tried to bury his nose in his sleeve.
“This, my lord,” Derek said sarcastically, “is your punishment.”
Jake gagged.
Derek picked up a pitchfork and thrust the wooden handle into Jake’s hands. “You will spend the rest of the day at a task affectionately known as ‘turning the compost heap.’ Move this pile from here to there.” Derek pointed. “One pitchfork at a time to let it air out.”
Still holding his nose, Jake looked at him in disbelief. “You must be joking.”
“Not at all,” he drawled. “It was good enough for me when I disobeyed my father as a lad. The task should give you plenty of time to think about your attitude.”
“I am not doing this.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m an EARL.”
“You’re a stubborn little mule, and you brought this on yourself, lashing out at Dani like that. Badly done, Jacob. Very badly done, indeed.”
He shook his head, confused. “You’re more upset about what I said to Dani than us going to the village.”
“Aye,” Derek said.
Jake blinked. “Why?” he demanded.
“Think about that while you work, and when you figure it out, come and tell me. Now get going. And don’t come back until the task is done and you’re ready to apologize.”
Derek pivoted and marched back to the house, leaving him alone. Jake stared after him in bewildered resentment.
When the door banged shut, Jake let out a loud huff, the pitchfork dangling from his hands. He turned back to face the compost heap and gave it another gagging grimace. “Disgusting!”
It’s not fair! But after another moment’s sulk, he thrust the pitchfork into the pile. A city boy didn’t know the first thing about country labors, but he was not about to let Derek think he couldn’t do it. Fine, he thought with a cocky shrug. What do I care? I’ll show him.
But I am still not apologizing. He never said he was perfect and if they didn’t like it, they could all go hang.
For the life of him, he could not figure how he had ended up as the villain, when he was the one who had been attacked by a homicidal blacksmith! He snorted and stabbed the compost heap with the pitchfork, venting his frustrations.
The hideous mound wasn’t going to move itself and the movement was too complex to accomplish by using his powers. His only choice was to muscle through it, stench and all.
Muttering words like “stupid” and “ridiculous,” he picked up another pitchfork full of the smelly rot and, scowling, carried it over to the other pile.
Earl or not, it was going to be a very long, unpleasant afternoon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Oboedire Spell
Dani was still crying into her pillow when Isabelle came to check on her.
With a tender smile, the older girl went into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Dani, Jake really hurt your feelings, didn’t he?”
“He hates me now,” she said with a teary sniffle. “I didn’t mean for Derek to yell at him.”
“You did the right thing.”
“For all the good it did me!”
Isabelle was silent for a moment, watching her. “You’re scared about going back to London, aren’t you?”
Dani lifted her head and glanced at her in surprise.
The older girl waited patiently for her to speak.
“Sometimes I think Teddy is the only one who cares about me,” she finally admitted in a choked whisper. “I know I only bother Jake. But I don’t have anyone else. Not really. Not since Ma died.”
Isabelle’s sky-blue eyes filled with tears. She pulled Dani into a hug like a caring big sister, then kissed her on the head. “Come along, on your feet now. I know something that will cheer you up.”
When Isabelle released her, Dani quickly dried her eyes. Isabelle went to the door of Dani’s chamber, beckoning to her. “Follow me. Best to leave Teddy here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out into the woods.”
“Whatever for?” she asked curiously.
Isabelle gave her a mysterious smile. “It’s a secret.”
Curiosity overcame her sorrow. Dani climbed off the bed and followed Isabelle out of her chamber. They went down the upstairs hallway, then Isabelle glided down the stairs ahead of her.
They slipped out a side door into the sunshine; Dani had a bit of a headache from crying, and her eyes burned.
“This way.” Isabelle hurried through the formal gardens. “You have to promise that you’ll never tell anyone what you are about to see. Secrecy is of the utmost importance, Daniela. If the wrong people found out about them, lives could be at stake. I am their Keeper, after all. It’s my job to take care of them.”
“Take care of who? I promise!” she hastily added, crossing her heart with a wide-eyed nod.
“You’ll see.” Isabelle hurried on.
In the distance, toward the back of the house, the girls spotted Jake laboring over the compost heap. They exchanged a look, then hurried on through a row of trees at the far end of the formal gardens.
Isabelle led her through a meadow, over an old fallen log, and finally into the woods, tall and dark, shady-green with whispering wind. “Come on.” Isabelle pushed aside a soft-needled yew-tree bough, revealing a deer path. “This way. Our family’s property spans several thousand acres, but they shouldn’t be far off at this time of day.”
“‘They’ who?” Dani pleaded, unable to take the suspense. “Who are we going to see?”
Isabelle giggled. “Patience.”
Dani cast about for any small clue. “Does Archie know them?”
“Yes, but they don’t like boys very much. They don’t trust them and sometimes—” Isabelle shook her head with a sigh. “Who can blame them?”
“Who? Please? Oh, I’m going to pop if you don’t tell me!” Dani begged her.
“Shh! Listen. They’re coming…”
The girls held perfectly still.
“I don’t hear anything,” Dani whispered.
“Exactly.” Isabelle scanned the woods. “When they arrive, all the other animals must be still and pay their respects, especially to Belarex.”
“Belarex,” Dani echoed in a whisper. “Why?”
“He’s their king.”
“An animal king?”
“The king of all the animals,” Isabelle whispered.
“Not a lion!” Dani asked, gripping her friend’s arm in alarm.
“Goodness, no. Don’t worry. You and I have nothing to fear from them.”
Dani believed her, but stayed close to Isabelle just to be sure. Heart pounding, she glanced all around at the forest, trying to search past the leafy shadows.
The woods had gone so still!
No birds called; no frogs croaked; no squirrels chattered. A reverent hush had fallen over all the forest.
Then Isabelle smiled jubilantly. “Here they come!”
Dani held her breath. The ground began to pound with the drumming of hoofs.
Meanwhile, Jake was still venting his frustrations on the compost heap. He stabbed the pitchfork into the great pile of slops and kitchen garbage for the hundredth time, his arms and shoulders burning from his toil. How his carefree rookery friends would’ve howled with hilarity to see him like this.
He tried not to think about it. Bloody insulting!
He was never going to get this horrid smell out of his nose. Offended and rather nauseous, he carried the next scoop of compost over to the second, smaller pile, turning it over as he dropped it.
Again and again, he repeated the motion interminably, until blisters started forming on his hands.
Taking a pause in his foul, sweaty work, Jake brushed the perspiration off his brow with a pass of his forearm.
Then suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he noticed the figure of a man in a long coat and black hat standing on the other side of the nearby stream.
Watching him.
Jake squinted. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t dare come this close with Derek here…
Uncle Waldrick?
The man lifted some sort of small glass vial in his hand, mumbled a few words Jake could not make out from this distance, then drank from the little glass, as though he had just made a fancy dinner toast in Jake’s honor.
What the deuce? He stared uneasily at the man. This is not good. Derek had gone down to Gryphondale. Better go tell Aunt Ramona.
But as he backed away, a strange feeling began tingling in his veins.
His arms and legs suddenly started feeling heavy. A pleasant fog began to cloud his mind.
Uh-oh.
He tried to shake it off, but the sluggish feeling rapidly grew stronger. If I turn into a frog, I’m going to scream. He felt so glazed and drowsy all of a sudden that he couldn’t even hold the pitchfork up. He dropped it and just stood there, staring into space.
Wake up, man! Shake it off! You know what this is! It’s bad magic! he yelled at himself in his mind, to no avail. An unnatural sluggishness was taking over.
Then he was startled when he heard a voice inside his head. ‘Come, Jacob,’ it ordered, deep in the recesses of his mind. ‘Join me.’
Slowly, he turned to face the distant, dark figure.
‘Cross the river. Quickly. Come.’
The dim protest of his usually strong will was fading with each heartbeat. He was glazing over, surrendering to the authority of that unknown command…
‘Use your seashell to keep the water nymphs at bay. Cross the river to me. Hurry. Before the old witch comes.’
Jake began walking away from the house like a person in a dream, leaving the garden, marching slowly toward the stream.
‘That’s right. Very good. Come along, now,’ the voice in his head urged him.
I don’t want to! he thought, but it was no use. He stepped right into the cool, babbling stream, leaving Bradford Park and the compost heap behind.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Stop! What are you doing? he mentally yelled at himself. But the only thing that mattered was doing as the deep voice commanded…
The water-nymphs spotted him crossing the stream and charged at him like sharks streaking through the water. “Stop, Jacob! Where are you going?”
“Stay back!” He held up the seashell strung around his neck. “I must go, and you are not to stop me!”
“We’re trying to protect you!” the water nymphs wailed.
‘Send them away.’
“Stand aside!” he ordered.
“Jacob, come back!” Lydia yelled.
He held up the shell. “I command you, leave this place. You are dismissed. You are not wanted here anymore.”
“But the Guardian said—”
“You don’t answer to him, you answer to me! I’m the one who bears the summons shell! Now begone, all of you! You’ve served your duty here!” Jake could hear his own voice, but the words coming out of his mouth barely sounded like him. Those were not the sort of words he’d ever use.
That was because his uncle was feeding him his lines, slipping them straight into his mind somehow. They were Uncle Waldrick’s words—coming out of his mouth.
The water nymphs exchanged looks of angry confusion, but they had no choice but to obey whoever carried the shell. Angrily, they retreated to let Jake pass.
“What is he doing?” they whispered.
Not even Jake could have answered that question. He was simply following the orders in his head. He was aware of everything but had suddenly become no more than a puppet. He climbed up onto the opposite bank of the stream and walked, dripping, through the tall grass, going to stand before his uncle.
Waldrick smiled at him, his cold gray eyes gleaming with victory. “Hullo, nephew. How nice to see you again.”
Jake longed to call the water nymphs back to help him, but his voice was no longer his own. He felt powerless. It was as if his legs and arms had those shackles around them once more, like when he had been arrested.
He rallied all his strength, but could find only a small drop of his usual rebellion. “What do you want with me?” he dully intoned.
His uncle’s smile widened. “You’ll see. Come along, boy. This way. My carriage is waiting,” his sinister uncle said with a suave gesture.
No! a distant portion of Jake’s mind screamed, but whatever his uncle had done to him, the spell was deepening. His body lurched into motion, obeying the command. The fog rolling over his mind was getting thicker. His personality was receding, going numb. The boy who had always hated being told what to do now simply obeyed.
He stepped up into Uncle Waldrick’s carriage and found a beautiful lady with long black hair already waiting inside it. She studied him keenly. “Hello, Jacob. What a talented boy you are! You and I are going to be very great friends.”
He sat down across from her.
“To the train depot!” Waldrick called to his driver as he took his seat, then he pulled the carriage door shut.
The coach sprang into motion.
With the spell growing stronger, Jake didn’t even bother to ask where his kidnappers were taking him. It was easier just to sit quietly.
And do as he was told.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
A Secret in the Forest
Meanwhile, Dani glanced at Isabelle as the dull thunder of hoof-beats on the soft forest floor grew louder.
Large shapes began moving behind the leafy screen of the underbrush. Then Dani held her breath as a silvery sword emerged slowly from behind the boughs—no, it was not a sword, she saw, though she could scarcely believe her eyes. It was a horn, as bright a
s diamonds—and then the graceful head of the unicorn appeared, its ivory forelock cascading down the center of its snow-white face.
It whickered softly to Isabelle, its tapered ears flicking forward as the rest of the animal stepped gracefully into view, its pearly sides parting the greenery. Longer, feathery hairs the same cream-color as its mane adorned its lower legs.
Dani could not believe her eyes as more of the otherworldly animals came silently into view.
“This is King Belarex, and over there is his chief wife, Queen Claeryn. Their herd originated in the mountains of Snowdonia in Wales, but they scattered centuries ago when King Edward and his knights tried to hunt them. My ancestors gave them refuge in our woodlands long ago to keep them safe. There are those who would still attempt to hunt them today,” Isabelle added grimly. “That’s why they’re a secret. The only humans they trust are young girls.”
Dani could not even find her voice to answer, nor could she tear her gaze off the otherworldly animals.
Only the unicorn stallion was pure white; the mares had white bodies with manes and tails, dappled haunches and flowing fetlocks faintly tinged with soft blues and lavenders, shades of silver and gray-green. These wintry tones must have helped them to blend in to the shadows of their original snowy habitat in the Welsh mountains.
Their horns glistened like February icicles.
Because it was spring, there were babies. The mares nudged half a dozen little foals along, their horns mere buds on their foreheads. The babies frisked about over the mossy ground, their short tails wagging.
Dani turned, speechless, as the unicorn stallion, Belarex, walked over to Isabelle. He was as tall as a draft horse, but far more elegant of line. He had a noble bearing and soulful, brown-black eyes as he lowered his head to accept the offering of sweet grass that she held out to him. Isabelle murmured something, and his ears twitched.
Then she turned to Dani. “He’s ready to meet you now.”
She gulped as the unicorn stepped over toward her. “What do I do?”
“Just stand there. He’ll smell you to see if you are trustworthy.”