Free The Lost Heir (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 1) by E.G. Foley

looked over and even Fionnula turned as heavy footfalls approached. The earl and two of his henchmen marched down the many dark steps into the cave.
    Whatever they had been talking about, the earl did not look happy. “Blast it, Oxley, how could you let this happen? I should have Fionnula turn you back again! How would you like that, eh? Go back to pulling a plough all day, till you end up roasting on the barbeque spit?”
    “Oh, no, sir, please!” the big, bald muscleman begged him. “I like being a human so much better!”
    “And I like being an earl better than a nobody—which is what I will be once again if you fail to kill this boy! Lud, I am surrounded by fools! Don’t you understand the brat gets it all if the world finds out about him? The title, houses, money—and the magic powers to boot. So get it through your thick skull, you bovine dullard! I will not be left with nothing! You will not fail me again—or it’s the barbeque for you! No bull,” Waldrick added with a cruel smirk.
    Oxley blanched. “Yes, sir.”
    Hurrah, Jacob! Gladwin thought, hearing that the boy had gotten away. She leaned forward eagerly, spying on them from her confinement in the jar. She had been so desperately worried about poor young Jacob.
    Meanwhile, the bald giant cowered away from the earl. “We did our best, sir. It’s just, the Guardian showed up right after you left. We had him cornered, but Derek Stone came at us hard.” He hesitated. “We lost Ratlow.”
    Lord Griffon rolled his eyes, but brushed off this loss impatiently. “Never mind the rodent. Fionnula can always make more of his kind. What of the boy?”
    “Escaped, sir,” Oxley mumbled, head down. “Stone covered his retreat.”
    “I see. So now you have no idea where he is?” Waldrick folded his arms across his chest, glaring at his servitors.
    “That is true, sir—but all’s not lost!” his pale, flame-haired henchman piped up. “At least we know where Stone is! The bobbies sent him to jail for killin’ Ratlow!”
    “Well,” the earl replied, turning to him, “at least you’re a little brighter than this one, aren’t you, Flare?”
    Flare nodded. “We seen ‘em from around the corner.”
    “Hmm.” The earl considered this and paced away from them, stroking his mouth in thought. He pivoted at the other end of the cave. He shivered as if he had a chill, and paused to run his fingers idly across the top of the candle’s flame as he considered his next move. “Very well, slight change of strategy,” he announced. “We’ll pick up the hunt for the boy tomorrow. First, we’ve got to deal with Derek Stone. There’s no point trying to kill my nephew as long as that wretch is alive to protect him.”
    Gladwin realized Derek’s locating instincts must be working just fine, after all. He’d found the boy—in the nick of time, it sounded.
    “However,” Waldrick continued with a crafty glance, “right now, our brave Guardian is locked in a jail cell, unarmed. There’s no way he can escape, nor fight back, behind those bars. And that means there’s no way for you to miss. It’s the perfect opportunity to get rid of the miserable lout for once and for all. Tonight,” he instructed, “you will break into Newgate Prison, find Derek Stone’s cell, and kill him. It’ll be easy,” he promised. “Shooting fish in a barrel. Do not fail me again,” he added, “or this time, I’ll let Fionnula turn you into a pair of oysters and feed you both to her pet eel. Hello, darling,” he added, suavely blowing the sea-witch a kiss.
    Gladwin lifted her eyebrows as the hideous creature giggled like a schoolgirl.
    Oxley, meanwhile, cast a nervous look in Fionnula’s direction. “Yes, sir. Uh, I have one small question—”
    “Do not fret, man! I’m half a league ahead of you, as always. My sweet Fionnula will get you into the jail. Oh, darling?” he called in a singsong.
    As he sauntered toward her, the sea-witch swam over to the edge of the