by J. M. Stengl
All four children visibly relaxed and nodded, so she beckoned them to her. Omar brought Rita then lifted her down from his shoulders, still looking wary and worried. “That was the Gamekeeper I’ve heard you speak of?” he asked.
She nodded shortly, gave him a warning look, and lifted a sprite from one of the cages. “Do you remember this little fellow? He is all recovered from going ember, and now he isn’t afraid when I hold him. See?” She held the fluffball down at Rita’s level, and the little girl gingerly touched its back then smoothed its fur. “He isn’t smooshed anymore,” she observed with a smile.
Behind her, Ellie heard Omar and Briar speaking but couldn’t understand them at first. Then Briar said clearly, his voice edged with humor, “You’re the one who sent me to find her this morning. And for my trouble I ended up scooping melted sprite off the ballroom floor. You will pay.”
A light drizzle was falling early the next morning as Ellie began to clean out her cottage and sweep the porch and front walkway. It bothered her that someone—even a strange, beastly person—may have witnessed her disorganized clutter, so before heading to the gardens, where she had promised to help Rosa in the greenhouses, she cleaned diligently. One day too late.
Just as she finished the walkway and ducked inside to escape what was becoming a steady rain, she heard Omar call her name. He jogged toward her across the grass, wearing his running gear. Even as he approached, the rain fell harder. “Here, step inside for a minute,” she offered.
“Thanks.” He first shook his head like a wet dog until his black hair stuck out in spikes, then stepped just inside the door, leaving it slightly ajar. Water trickled down his face and arms and dripped from his clothing. He rubbed his hands down the front of his soaking tank shirt, ruefully regarding the puddle at his feet. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t this wet until I was almost here. Maybe I should stand on your porch.”
He was a mess. He was every bit as sweet and adorable as his little siblings. He had been too gorgeous for words even as a gawky teen, but now he was a man. Six feet of lean, fit perfection. And he stood in her house, nearly filling her entryway. She tried not to notice how his wet shirt clung to his skin or how his eyes sought to hold her gaze. “It’s all right.” She sounded breathless even to herself. “I haven’t put my cleaning supplies away yet.”
His usual bright smile was absent. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“The resort director is still absent, and Briar told me this morning that he was invited to join an unofficial unicorn hunt scheduled for today at twilight. Apparently some of the lords brought rifles along even though shooting game of any kind is banned on resort property.”
“What? Twilight?” She panicked but tried to hide it. “Why twilight?”
“They seem to think it will be easier to find the unicorn in the dark. Because the horn glows, or something like that.”
“I suppose that makes sense . . . but men with guns in the dark makes my job a lot more dangerous.” She was already planning her message to the Gamekeeper.
“Which is why we’re not leaving you to deal with this alone. Briar already agreed to join the hunt.”
“What?” She hardly knew the magical prince, but this felt like betrayal.
“His plan is to delay and confuse the others so that either the Gamekeeper or you and I can find the unicorn first. Yes, I’m going with you. We hoped maybe you could use your magic to persuade the unicorn to leave Faraway Castle grounds?” His voice turned the last statement into a question.
“I can try.” Her brain was spinning. “I can’t put you and Briar in danger.”
“You’re not putting us in danger. This whole plot is our idea.”
Ellie’s heart warmed at Omar’s kindness, and his tentative smile added a few degrees of heat. She still wasn’t sure what to think of Briar, but she wouldn’t turn down his help. “Thank you,” she said, meeting Omar’s gaze. “Maybe I should refuse, but I can’t stop you from joining me.”
His eyes brightened. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The Gamekeeper searched for the unicorn but couldn’t find it,” Ellie said. “If we’re to find it before the hunters do, we’ll have to head out this afternoon or early evening in broad daylight. If the director finds out that I walked off to hike in the forest with you, she will do her best to fire me. But the Gamekeeper promised to stand by me, and I’ve seen her knuckle under to him before.”
She met Omar’s gaze with a determined lift of her chin. “This will be dangerous, you know. I’m not sure I have the power to soothe a unicorn.”
“It’s worth a try. I can take you directly to where we saw it. Maybe we can find a trail.”
“Probably not, after this rain. I will send a message to the Gamekeeper. I hope he can get back here in time, but if not, we’ll carry out the search ourselves. Be sure to wear dark clothing so the hunters don’t shoot us. And we should carry a weapon, just in case.”
“I’ll take care of that,” he said. “And electric torches.” His manner was still restrained and tentative, and she sensed his frustration, hope, and . . . longing.
Might he truly be in love with her? She ached at the sight of him and suddenly wondered how it would feel to be in his arms without two lifejackets between them. But he had not yet offered her anything, and she could never settle for less than everything.
“Where shall we meet?” he asked.
“The stables.”
“I’ll bring food along in my pack. Four o’clock? Five?”
“My shift ends at five, but this hunt takes precedence. Besides, Rosa won’t tell if I skip out early. Will four work for you?”
He nodded. “The earlier the better, as far as I’m concerned.” He paused, studying her face. “Ellie, we need to talk.”
She nodded briskly to hide her confusion. “Plenty of time for that this afternoon.”
Omar’s dark eyes reproached her. She sensed his inner struggle, but then he stepped back through the doorway into the rain. “Hope the weather clears by then. See you at four.”
Ellie closed the door behind him and wanted more than anything to sit down for a good cry. The house felt so empty with no cinder sprites in the corner . . . and no Omar in the doorway.
But Rosa would be waiting for her. Life must go on, even if her heart felt likely to shatter. She spoke her message into the tiny tube, then opened her door to whistle for the nightjar.
Rosa put Ellie to work splitting and transplanting irises in a greenhouse while rain drummed on the glass overhead. It was dirty, physical work, exactly what Ellie needed right then. Far more beneficial than a pity party.
Rosa usually kept her feelings hidden, but on this gloomy day she seemed agitated. Nearly as tense as Ellie. “Is something wrong?” Ellie asked after they returned from lunch. “I mean, not with the plants. With you.”
After a long silence, when she did eventually respond, Rosa’s voice sounded peculiar. “Prince Briar. Do you know much about him?”
Ellie quirked a brow. She’d heard both Savannah and Kerry Jo gush about Prince Briar being too stunning for words. Had the charmer found a chink in Rosa’s emotional armor?
She said only, “I know he’s funny and clever. Why?”
Scowling, Rosa ripped apart a bunch of bulbs. “There is more to that guy than meets the eye. Are you sure you don’t know him from somewhere?
Nope. No chink in that armor. Ellie paused before she spoke. “I think I would remember if I’d met him before. He’s . . . Well, he would be hard to forget, you know?”
And yet she easily resisted his charm. Possibly for the same reason Omar was immune to the sirens’ call: Her heart was already taken.
“Forgetting him is no problem for me,” Rosa said, her full lips pressing into a hard line.
Oh, really? But Ellie kept her thoughts to herself, and the conversation soon changed to less volatile topics. Ellie needed to keep her thoughts from rolling back to Omar and the unicorn search, and Rosa was always willing to talk abou
t plants and garden pests.
The two girls worked hard until Rosa straightened, pulled off her gloves, and removed her tool belt. “I’ve got errands to run. It’s nearly four o’clock, you know.”
“Is it really?” Panic knotted Ellie’s stomach.
Rosa smiled. “It really is. You’d better get going.” As she stepped out the greenhouse door, she paused to call back, “Looks like the storm is over. Good luck tonight. You can save that unicorn, I know.”
“Thanks.” Ellie managed a grateful smile. “See you later.”
While cleaning up her area, Ellie wondered—not for the first time—what vital task drew Rosa to the back of the gardens several times a day. It was more than a year now since Ellie and Jeralee, convinced that Rosa was under magical compulsion, followed her through a gate, hoping to free their friend from what must be a curse. That attempt ended badly. She and Jeralee had walked away with blistered legs, no memory of what happened, and no desire to repeat the experience.
And Rosa had bluntly told them not to try again and asked them to speak of it to no one if they were truly her friends. Something in her tone and manner convinced them, so no further attempt had followed. But curiosity was less easily quenched. Now Ellie wondered, had Prince Briar been snooping around that same gate?
Ellie had filled a backpack before coming to work, so now she simply collected it from a storage shed, slung it over her shoulder, and headed toward the stables. To avoid arousing suspicion, she hid the pack behind a stone in one of the back pastures then took a roundabout route to the remotest barn. Visiting horses was one of her secret pleasures, and the maternity barn was a favorite haunt. Here, pregnant mares were stabled at night along with new mothers and their foals.
Savoring the warm scent of hay and horse, she moved from stall to stall, murmuring love to expectant mothers. Halfway down the row of boxes she found the faithful pair of stable brownies tending a mare with a foal only hours old. “Good afternoon, Howurl and Miria,” she greeted them, leaning her forearms on the half door. “How is our new mother?”
“Very well, Miss Ellie,” Miria answered from her seat atop the mare’s neck, where she was braiding the long black mane. “And the little one is strong and lively.” Her sharp eyes reviewed Ellie in a glance. “You are going for a hike with someone?”
Ellie had expected as much from Miria, who could have made a fortune as a detective were she so inclined. “I am meeting Prince Omar of Khenifra here. We intend to search for the unicorn and send it away before a party of guests can find it.”
“Ah,” said Howurl, his voice deep and mournful as he brushed the sleeping foal’s legs. “The unicorn. We were ordered to have five horses ready.”
“Would you like us to delay the hunting party?” Miria asked. “The dwarfs will help us, I know.”
Ellie only smiled. “Do as you think best. One of the party also intends to sabotage the hunt: Prince Briar of Auvers.”
Miria nodded. “Ah, I would have guessed it. We know him.” She and Howurl exchanged a look, leaving Ellie in doubt of their opinion of the prince. Then Miria turned back to Ellie. “We know of someone else who might be willing to help you if we ask him.”
“He doesn’t like humans much,” Howurl said in a tone of deep woe.
“We will take all the help we can get,” Ellie replied, brightening. “Can this person be ready quickly? We need to head out as soon as Omar arrives.”
“I’ll take you to him,” Miria volunteered. After tying off the pink ribbon she had woven into the new mother’s mane, she touched the mare’s neck and gave a command Ellie couldn’t understand. The horse immediately lowered her head, and Miria walked down her neck and jumped into a mound of straw. “Thank you, Bertinette.” With her tiny hand she patted the mare’s cheek.
Ellie had always marveled at the glimpses she caught of the brownies’ abilities and language. These two did wonders in the stables, and the horses obviously loved them. Why brownies so enjoyed caring for the houses, beasts, and possessions inside almost any structure built by humans was beyond her understanding, but she felt increasingly grateful with each passing year.
Just as Ellie and Miria approached the open barn door, Omar entered, clad in practical clothing and boots, carrying a backpack, and looking stressed. “I had a hard time sneaking off,” he said. “I think my parents have asked people to keep a watch on me. I’ve been checking my tail frequently on my way here and took a roundabout route, so I think I’m clear.” He gave a little start, staring down at Miria. “Hello. I beg your pardon. I didn’t notice you at first.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped. “You can see her? A brownie?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Yes. It’s been . . . an adjustment.”
“When did you start seeing them?” She had her suspicions.
He raised his brows and looked uncertain. “I think I was too distracted by other things to notice at first, but . . . yesterday?”
A mermaid had spoken to him at the island, Ellie was certain. As she thought of that beautiful creature she’d seen talking with Tor, her fingers curled into claws.
“I can also sort of sense when magic is being used, though I can’t explain how I know,” Omar continued. “I’m trying hard to pretend I don’t see the brownies and things when other humans are around, but I feel rude.”
“They understand,” Ellie assured him. “This is Miria.”
Omar bowed politely. “I am pleased to meet you, Miria.”
The little brownie curtsied. “Your Highness,” she said.
Howurl scrambled over the stall door, gave Omar a doleful look, and said, “I will check to see if you were followed. We will all help you protect the unicorn.”
Before Omar could respond, he was gone.
“That was Howurl, Miria’s husband,” Ellie said. “From him, that was a long speech!”
Omar nodded, but a slight wrinkle between his brows revealed his uneasiness. “I’m glad to have his help, but what do we do first?” he asked.
Ellie briefly explained the plan to Omar, who nodded and turned to Miria. “Right. If you will lead the way, we’ll follow.”
Once she adjusted to the idea, Omar’s new ability delighted Ellie, who felt as if he’d suddenly taken steps into her world. More than anything she wanted to pick his brain about what all he had seen and sensed, but that conversation must wait for a better time. Maybe never, since she was supposed to be keeping out of his way . . .
After Ellie collected her backpack, Miria led them into the forest by a nearly invisible trail, then told them to wait while she slipped into a copse of young trees. Omar sat on a fallen log and patted the spot next to him. “Might as well rest your feet while you can.”
Rather than hurt his feelings, Ellie sat beside him and lowered her pack to the ground. “So you had a long day?”
There was no smile in his eyes when he looked at her. “The longest. But it is better now.”
She looked away, stifling a sigh. “Good. I worked in a greenhouse all day.” She wanted to bring up the topic of sirens, but this wasn’t the time. Besides, even if he’d spoken with one, she hadn’t enthralled him.
Facts notwithstanding, she wanted to run down to the lake and order a certain mermaid to put some decent clothes on—a gunny sack would be ideal—and keep her hooks out of Ellie’s man.
If only he really were her man. If only she could lean her head against his shoulder for a moment or two . . .
“What’s wrong, Ellie?” Omar asked, the lines between his brows deeper than ever. “You look so unhappy.”
Miria reappeared soundlessly. She was not quite a foot high, yet beside her stood a quite hideous yellow-and-brown person no higher than her knee. “This is Tob the toadstool fairy. He knows where the unicorn is hiding and why. He cannot speak human, but he understands your speech if you speak slowly.”
“Hello, Tob,” both Ellie and Omar greeted him.
The fairy nodded coldly, looking only at Omar through narrowed eyes.
/> “He says he is doing this for the unicorn’s sake. Your Highness, if you will let him ride on your shoulder, he will direct you to her.” She spoke to Omar, her expression grave. “Toadstool fairies do not appreciate humor or laughter.” Coming from Miria, the words were a stark warning. “And Tob disapproves of human magic, which you have a great deal of, Miss Ellie. Once he has taken you to the unicorn, he will vanish.”
“We understand,” Omar responded. “And we are deeply grateful for Tob’s assistance.”
An instant later he flinched as the tiny fairy alighted on his shoulder. Tob folded his wings and laid them flat on his bare back. At close range, Ellie now saw that the fairy wore a loincloth the same colors as his mottled skin. She dared only a glance before averting her gaze, for the fairy’s expression was a few shades past belligerent. Tob ignored her entirely.
She wondered how Tob would direct them from Omar’s shoulder if he could not speak. She quickly found out. The fairy unfurled a long spear with a wicked thorn tip and pointed into the trees. Omar flinched again and blinked, doubtless fearing for his eyes. He stepped forward to lead the way, and Ellie fell in behind. It was a quiet hike, both hesitant to speak for fear of offending the truculent fairy.
Following Tob’s guiding spear, they hiked several miles along the side of the mountain, climbing slowly. Then they descended into a vale lush with ferns. Birches, their bark and leaves silvery in the afternoon sunlight, shaded the small clearing. Tob suddenly jumped off Omar’s shoulder and vanished amid the ferns. Omar and Ellie exchanged wide-eyed looks but held their tongues. Was the unicorn near? Did it even now prepare to attack?
And then the sound of deep, labored breathing reached their ears, followed by a low moan. “Are we too late?” Omar whispered. “Could it be injured?”
Tob darted from beneath the ferns at their feet and motioned for them to follow. His manner seemed urgent to Ellie. She would have moved ahead of Omar, but he put out one arm to hold her back, no doubt intending to meet any danger first. Both grateful and annoyed, she allowed his chivalry.