Rise of Allies (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 4) (5 page)

The crowd chuckled at the serious boy’s humble tone. The girls giggled, charmed.

Jake rolled his eyes.

“Good,” said the Elder. “Well, what we’re going to do is release four identical battering rams at the same time, Maddox, one aimed at each column.”

“Battering rams, sir?” Maddox echoed in surprise.

“Not castle-storming size, only about yay long.” Sir Peter held up his hands about four feet apart. “Just big enough to destroy the columns the gnomes are standing on. The trick, however, is that only one of these battering rams is real. The others are a harmless illusion. It’s up to you to determine which one is real, and which of your ‘baby ducks’ is in true need of rescue.

“As you can see, the columns are too high and the gnomes are too small to get down by themselves. So, choose well, young Guardian, for you’ll have only a few seconds to decide which of your charges is in actual danger.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll swing to the gnome’s rescue using the ropes provided—oh, and avoid getting hit by the battering ram yourself along the way. Your goal is to rescue your gnome before his column is destroyed and he, er, falls to his death.”

A worried murmured ran through the stands.

“Don’t be alarmed, ladies and gentleman,” Sir Peter assured everybody. “We have a full medical team on hand in case of any…unfortunate accidents. The danger has to be real to activate the Guardian instinct. Let’s have a round of applause for our brave volunteers. Ladies and gentlemen, the gnomes of Merlin Hall!”

Everyone clapped for the suicidal gnomes who had agreed to go along with this. Jake somehow doubted they had been given much choice, no matter what Sir Peter said.

“All right, then, if everybody’s ready—stand back, please, audience. Any onlookers will please clear the edges of the Field of Challenge! Yes, very good, thank you very much. Safety first. We don’t want anyone losing fingers or toes or hoofs or wings or tentacles or what-have-you.”

The few stray spectators who had been standing around the edges for a better view took a big step backwards.

Sir Peter nodded. “Excellent. Now then.”

With a shouted spell and a big wave of his wand, he caused a sturdy metal framework slightly like a cage to rise out of the ground around the borders of the field, surrounding the four columns. In a wave of sparkling magic, the steel posts sprouted higher and the horizontal beams stretched until the sturdy metal framework grew together over the middle of the field.

With the top part firmly locked into place, there was a second’s pause, and then various long, thick ropes descended, dangling here and there, each one tied around the crisscrossed beams.

No one line was long enough to reach the columns, which meant Maddox would need to swing from rope to rope to rescue the endangered gnome.

The the Elder worked a final spell, and four menacing battering rams materialized out of thin air, resting up into the metal framework, waiting to be released.

“Good luck to Maddox St. Trinian!” Sir Peter said through the megaphone. Then he jumped off the towering center pillar and, robes flapping in the breeze, floated down gently to the ground. He strode off the field, returning to his seat by the Old Yew.

Up there on the middle column, Maddox closed his eyes and lowered his head, looking inward, no doubt, to find whatever his Guardian instinct was telling him. Jake had seen that look of quiet concentration on Derek’s face many times.

All four gnomes appeared extremely nervous. They probably hadn’t been told, either, which of them would be in mortal danger so that none of them would accidentally give it away.

The whole crowd held its breath as a great, ominous rumbling sound came from the metal framework overhead.

Maddox’s eyes flicked open with blazing intensity. He leaped off the platform, caught hold of a rope dangling to his left, and swung with all his might toward the north column, even as the four identical battering rams were released.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Rival & the Prodigy

T
he gnomes screamed.

It was impossible to tell which battering ram was real as their long chains uncoiled with an ugly, clanking hiss overhead. Simultaneously, they plunged out of their moorings.

All eyes were on Maddox as he flew through the air with the battering ram chasing right behind him. He had made his choice and there wasn’t any chance of turning back or changing his mind. It was all or nothing. Even Jake held his breath as the aspiring Guardian turned his hips and kicked his legs sideways to swerve toward his destination.

He landed on the column just long enough to grab the terrified gnome and lift the little fellow up onto his back. At once, it reached its arms around the lad’s neck and braced its feet in the back of his brown sash, freeing Maddox’s hands for their immediate escape.

The battering ram barreled straight at them.

Maddox dove off the column and caught himself on a rope hanging nearby. Just as he went arcing away, the battering ram smashed into the column and turned it to rubble.

Everybody gasped. The three fake ones burst into colorful explosions of feathers like confetti.

But it wasn’t over yet. Maddox still had one final challenge: a long, hair-raising jump from rope to rope with the gnome on his back. A Guardian, after all, must always transport his charge to safety in an attack situation, as Jake knew from Derek saving his neck in the past.

He didn’t let himself blink as he watched Maddox make the gravity-defying spring between ropes without dropping the frightened gnome.

He did it!

Isabelle and Archie and even Dani cheered. Thunderous applause erupted as Maddox grabbed hold and clung to the last rope in relief, steadying the gnome and then letting it climb up to sit on his shoulder.

As Maddox stepped down onto solid ground, Jake applauded like a good sport along with everybody else. The kid deserved it, he admitted in begrudging admiration.

“Oh, good show! Well done!” Archie cheered, clapping madly. “Well, sis, I approve.”

Isabelle was staring raptly at Maddox St. Trinian through the telescope again while Dani grinned like the cat who had eaten
two
canaries.

On the field, Maddox put the gnome down, shook its hand, then bowed to the Old Yew and marched off the field. Panting and sweaty, he picked up a waiting canteen and swigged some water.

At least he had the decency to look a little shaken up after what could have easily been the wrong choice and a total disaster.

Jake started to make a wisecrack. “Don’t faint, Izzy. No one brought the smelling salts…” But the rest of the words died on his tongue as he saw what happened next.

Maddox St. Trinian was shaking hands with Derek Stone.

Down there on the edge of the field, Derek was beaming at him, clapping the boy warmly on the shoulder like they were old pals. He was obviously congratulating the younger Guardian on a job well done, and Jake realized at that moment that Derek had been sitting in the front row all along, watching Maddox carry out his Assessment.

Jake was utterly taken aback. He let out a great, indignant huff.
Well, that’s a fine how-do-ye-do!
Derek’s supposed to be
my
mentor!
If he wasn’t jealous of Maddox St. Trinian before, he certainly was now.
I think I hate that kid.

“Uh, I guess Derek knows him,” Archie said as tactfully as possible, for it was not difficult for the others to guess Jake’s reaction when they, too, saw Derek making a great, proud fuss over the lad.

“He must be training him,” Dani offered.

Jake couldn’t hold back. “You’d think he would’ve said something about it—warned me!”

“Steady on, coz,” Archie advised. “You need to keep a clear head in case they call you next.”

Jake suppressed a growl.

Archie was right, and they both knew it. Within moments, the next victim would be called down.

Even now, Sir Peter waved his wand at the obstacle course and made it disappear, clearing the Field of Challenge for the next Assessment.

The metal framework, the columns—even the rubble from the one that had been smashed—dissolved and vanished as if they’d been no more solid than a morning mist.

Weird
, Jake thought. Then he did his best to follow his cousin’s sensible advice and ignore the fact that he was totally intimidated by this tough older boy with such outstanding skills. A boy that his own hero, Derek Stone, had obviously been more concerned about than
him
.

Jake felt small and unimportant, forgotten. Abandoned. He had come to know that feeling well growing up in the orphanage, but it had been a while since it had plagued him.

Leaning forward on the uncomfortable bench, he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his fingers loosely, refusing to look at Derek or his great Guardian protégé anymore. It was too vexing. Like Archie said, he had to stay calm. Out there in that field, it was going to be him against whatever obstacles the Elders deemed appropriate for a boy who could see ghosts and move things with his mind.

What stupid talents his own gifts seemed to him at the moment. He would have much rather have been a dashing warrior like Maddox. Now
that
was what a real hero was supposed to be like, rescuing others, not lounging around chatting with ghosts and other invisible friends—

“Stop it, Jake,” Isabelle said with a knowing sigh.

“
You
stop it!” he snapped. “Quit reading my mind. Empaths!” he huffed.

“She doesn’t read minds, she reads emotions, unless you’re a dog,” Dani pointed out, for Isabelle only had true telepathy with animals.

“I wish I was! Then I wouldn’t have to go through this torture!” he burst out.

“Excuse me, I turn into a wolf now and then, and I had to go through it, too,” said Henry, glancing over at his outburst.

“Oh, everybody leave me alone,” Jake muttered.

“We’re on your side, coz,” Archie told him earnestly.

“Just—nobody talk to me until this is over, all right?”

“Gladly,” Dani said under her breath.

The others leaned away from him while Jake stared broodingly at the Field of Challenge, waiting to find out who would go next.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” he could hear them murmuring to each other. “He’s a wreck.”

“He’ll be fine,” Dani assured his cousins. “He just really wants to dazzle everybody. You know, so they’ll pick him for a Lightrider someday.”

Hands sweating, Jake laced his fingers together.
Please don’t pick me next. Please don’t pick me next,
he repeated over and over in his mind.
I don’t want to go after Maddox St. Trinian.

Down by the Old Yew, Sir Peter now held an envelope in his hand. He opened it, read the note inside, then lifted his speaking trumpet to his lips. “Our next demonstration will be from…”

Jake squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, braced to hear his fate.

“Nixella Marie Valentine: witch!” Sir Peter boomed through his speaking trumpet.

Jake nearly collapsed at this temporary reprieve.
Oh, thank you,
thank you.
Spared again.

“Where is Miss Valentine?” Sir Peter visored his eyes with his hand and scanned the field and bleachers with a pleasant air. “The next candidate will enter the Field of Challenge, please. Ah, there you are! Right up here, my dear, if you please.”

A murmur of anticipation ran through the bleachers. The audience looked around to find the next contestant, a grim-faced girl marching out onto the field.

“Hey, it’s the gloomy girl I saw before!” Dani said.

“What sort of name is Nixella?” Archie murmured.

Dani nodded. “Even
sounds
like a witch. Hmm, she doesn’t look quite so pale now that she’s not wearing all black.”

“All black? Like Queen Victoria?” Jake asked. “Maybe she’s in mourning.”

With the orange sash of the witches and wizards tied around her waist, the girl walked out onto the field as warily as a stray cat.

Jake’s heart pounded with relief for himself—mixed with sympathy for the girl.

When she arrived before the seating area for all the VIPs, she made a deep, formal curtsy to Queen Victoria, the Elders, and the Old Yew. The skinny, raven-haired girl looked tiny in front of the massive trunk of the several-thousand-year-old tree.

The Old Yew asked her a few questions privately before Sir Peter once more took matters in hand.

“Welcome, Miss Valentine.” With a broad smile and firm grip on her shoulder, he forced her to turn around beside him and face the crowd, his speaking trumpet at the ready.

She blanched as she looked out over the audience.

“So! Are you ready for the day’s challenge, my dear?” he asked, pleasant as ever.

She quickly lowered her head and nodded, as though she could not bear to look out upon the endless sea of faces.

Jake felt for her.

“Great! And do you enjoy being a witch?”

“Very much, sir,” she said into the speaking trumpet. Then she lowered her head again, toying nervously with her long, cream-colored skirts. She fingered the wand tucked into her sash as if it were a good luck charm.

Sir Peter chuckled. “I believe Miss Valentine would like to get this over with, ladies and gentlemen.”

She gave a more vigorous nod. “Oh, yes, if you please, sir.”

“Very well. Let’s get you all set up, then.” He gestured to a pair of gnomes nearby.

Jake believed these were different ones than the last Assessment, but it was hard to be certain. They all looked alike.

Between them, the two gnomes carried out a tall metal brazier onto the field. It had a flat stand as its base; a single pole about five feet tall; and a wide, shallow basin on the top, mounded with unlit coals.

While the gnomes carried the brazier out to the middle of the Field of Challenge, Sir Peter surveyed the audience with his speaking trumpet to his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as some of you know and others will remember from firsthand experience, as I do, the Assessment for the magic-working group requires young witches and wizards to demonstrate their progress in mastering the four elements.” He counted them off on his fingers: “Fire. Water. Earth. And air.”

“Aunt Ramona, did you have to do that for your Assessment when you were a girl?” Isabelle asked.

The Elder witch laughed. “Oh, child, they hadn’t even started doing Assessments yet when I was her age.”

Jake supposed that was a very long time ago, indeed.

“I’ve watched more of these things than I can remember,” the Elder witch added. “Even served on the panel of judges dozens of times, doling out scores for our young hopefuls.”

“Since this is a very challenging Assessment,” Sir Peter continued through his trumpet, “the one aspect we really hope to see is that the coals in the brazier be lit by any magical means the candidate wishes to employ.”

As the gnomes hurried off the field, Sir Peter glanced down fondly at the wide-eyed witch. “We’re ready if you are, Miss Valentine.”

The scared girl nodded and marched out onto the field alone, clutching her wand tightly in her hand.

Sir Peter returned to his place and fluffed his ceremonial robes out of the way as he sat down again.

Nixella took a moment to concentrate, and a hush fell over the watching crowd. Then she lifted her hands to the sky and began murmuring a spell under her breath.