Read Online Rise of Allies (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 4) by E.G. Foley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: E.G. Foley
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reflective tone. “I hear it is your birthday tomorrow, lad. Born on Beltane, yes? That is a very good omen, you know. ’Tis said a Beltane babe is born lucky. Happy birthday to you, boy.”
Humph, I don’t know about that, Jake thought, but he answered with respect. “Thank you, Your Serene Leafiness. And, er, if you don’t mind,” he added gingerly, “may I pass along a greeting to you from your Norse cousin, Yggdrasil, the Tree of the Universe.”
The Old Yew’s mossy eyebrows shot up. “You met Yggdrasil?”
Jake nodded, rather pleased with himself. He hoped the showoff Maddox was using his extra-powerful Guardian senses to hear this part. He felt rather important.
“We had to help a giant find his way back to Jugenheim a few months ago. Up Yggdrasil was the only way to get there.”
“Indeed,” the Old Yew marveled. “And how is the old Viking oak these days, eh?”
“Happy to say he is thriving, sir, according to the three witches who water him. They, too, send their best.”
“By my buds and branches! You met the three ferocious Norns and lived to tell of it?”
“Why, yes, sir. They served us tea, actually.”
“I say.” Now it was the tree’s turn to look entirely astonished at him .
“Begging your pardon, Your Leafiness,” a furry-faced Elder with whiskers and small, pointy ears spoke up. “We really should try to keep to the schedule. The Griffon heir is not the only candidate today.” He cast Jake a sour look. “And while we’re all very impressed to hear these tales of his exploits—uncorroborated tales, I would remind my colleagues—perhaps the lad believes that chatting up His Leafiness will make the panel show a certain favoritism. Hmm?”
“No, sir!” Jake exclaimed in offended surprise, turning to him. What is that fellow, anyway? Part rodent?
The Elder in question studied Jake through beady eyes, his little pink nose twitching ever so slightly. The Old Yew looked askance at the furry Elder. (Of course, the tree could not turn his head very much to look at people beside him; all he could do was peer at them out of the corners of his eyes.)
“If you have questions for the boy, then by all means, ask them, Lord Badgerton.”
“Very well,” Lord Badgerton said crisply. “We hear that before you were found, you spent a few years as a pickpocket in London, Lord Griffon. Is that correct?”
Jake winced to hear the embarrassing secret of his thieving past announced to the entire magical community. Though his cheeks turned red, he stood stiffly, his chin high. “Yes, sir,” he admitted.
He could hear the murmurs that ran through the audience and the row of Elders.
The Old Yew’s woody face rearranged itself into a frown. “I trust your trainers will make sure to rid you of any worrisome old habits, Jacob. See that they do.”
“Yes, sir.” Everything in him longed to say something in his own defense, but somehow Jake knew it would only come out sounding like an excuse. So he kept his mouth shut and merely nodded.
Sir Peter Quince returned to his side. “Now then, Jacob. Are you ready to begin?”
Jake nodded, though it was really more a command than a question.
The smiling fellow whipped him around roughly once more to face the crowd and then proceeded to conduct a smarmy public interview of him. “Well, well, dear lad. Sounds like you have some big shoes to fill. Two talents!” He pointed at the red and blue sashes entwined around Jake’s waist. “I hear you have inherited both your parents’ abilities. Is this true?”
“Yes, sir. My mother could see ghosts, and my father had telekinesis.”
“And they both were Lightriders,” Sir Peter confided to the crowd through his speaking trumpet. “I am told you have high hopes of following in their footsteps someday?”
Jake blushed. “If I am found worthy, sir.”
“Well, you’re going to need quite a few more birthdays before you’ll be ready for that, I warrant, but I’m sure the panel will
Humph, I don’t know about that, Jake thought, but he answered with respect. “Thank you, Your Serene Leafiness. And, er, if you don’t mind,” he added gingerly, “may I pass along a greeting to you from your Norse cousin, Yggdrasil, the Tree of the Universe.”
The Old Yew’s mossy eyebrows shot up. “You met Yggdrasil?”
Jake nodded, rather pleased with himself. He hoped the showoff Maddox was using his extra-powerful Guardian senses to hear this part. He felt rather important.
“We had to help a giant find his way back to Jugenheim a few months ago. Up Yggdrasil was the only way to get there.”
“Indeed,” the Old Yew marveled. “And how is the old Viking oak these days, eh?”
“Happy to say he is thriving, sir, according to the three witches who water him. They, too, send their best.”
“By my buds and branches! You met the three ferocious Norns and lived to tell of it?”
“Why, yes, sir. They served us tea, actually.”
“I say.” Now it was the tree’s turn to look entirely astonished at him .
“Begging your pardon, Your Leafiness,” a furry-faced Elder with whiskers and small, pointy ears spoke up. “We really should try to keep to the schedule. The Griffon heir is not the only candidate today.” He cast Jake a sour look. “And while we’re all very impressed to hear these tales of his exploits—uncorroborated tales, I would remind my colleagues—perhaps the lad believes that chatting up His Leafiness will make the panel show a certain favoritism. Hmm?”
“No, sir!” Jake exclaimed in offended surprise, turning to him. What is that fellow, anyway? Part rodent?
The Elder in question studied Jake through beady eyes, his little pink nose twitching ever so slightly. The Old Yew looked askance at the furry Elder. (Of course, the tree could not turn his head very much to look at people beside him; all he could do was peer at them out of the corners of his eyes.)
“If you have questions for the boy, then by all means, ask them, Lord Badgerton.”
“Very well,” Lord Badgerton said crisply. “We hear that before you were found, you spent a few years as a pickpocket in London, Lord Griffon. Is that correct?”
Jake winced to hear the embarrassing secret of his thieving past announced to the entire magical community. Though his cheeks turned red, he stood stiffly, his chin high. “Yes, sir,” he admitted.
He could hear the murmurs that ran through the audience and the row of Elders.
The Old Yew’s woody face rearranged itself into a frown. “I trust your trainers will make sure to rid you of any worrisome old habits, Jacob. See that they do.”
“Yes, sir.” Everything in him longed to say something in his own defense, but somehow Jake knew it would only come out sounding like an excuse. So he kept his mouth shut and merely nodded.
Sir Peter Quince returned to his side. “Now then, Jacob. Are you ready to begin?”
Jake nodded, though it was really more a command than a question.
The smiling fellow whipped him around roughly once more to face the crowd and then proceeded to conduct a smarmy public interview of him. “Well, well, dear lad. Sounds like you have some big shoes to fill. Two talents!” He pointed at the red and blue sashes entwined around Jake’s waist. “I hear you have inherited both your parents’ abilities. Is this true?”
“Yes, sir. My mother could see ghosts, and my father had telekinesis.”
“And they both were Lightriders,” Sir Peter confided to the crowd through his speaking trumpet. “I am told you have high hopes of following in their footsteps someday?”
Jake blushed. “If I am found worthy, sir.”
“Well, you’re going to need quite a few more birthdays before you’ll be ready for that, I warrant, but I’m sure the panel will
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