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Page 5

by Laura Peyton Roberts


  Somewhere in Providence, my mom was either totally worried or truly irate. I was still pretty worried myself. But how could I doubt now that these leprechauns had known Gigi, maybe even better than I'd known her myself? I didn't believe the lepling story, but I was Gigi's granddaughter through and through, and here, in this strange cottage, I felt her presence more intensely than I ever did at home.

  How could I go home without learning why?

  Taking Gigi's bathrobe off the hanger, I wrapped it around me and let my towel drop, nothing underneath but bare skin and a fancy gold key. I took a few breaths, steeling up my courage. Then I turned back to the tea party.

  "This banquet," I said. "When does it start?"

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  Chapter 5

  "Don't be nervous," Bronwyn advised, trying to push me out the cottage door and into the night outside.

  "I'm not," I lied, not moving. I was wearing my grandmother's green velvet dress, which had been brushed until it looked new. On my feet, a pair of elaborately decorated silver flats matched the dress's intricate embroidery.

  "Cobbled by Horace Green himself!" an awed Lexie had told me, taking the shoes from the cupboard. "How do they feel, Lil?"

  They felt like leather, pretty much, which was surprising

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  considering that they looked like solid silver. The toes were a bit tight for me, but the soles were soft and springy. Having arrived barefoot, I just had to be glad my feet were nearly the same size as Gigi's.

  Bronwyn pushed on my calf again. Still I hesitated on the threshold, deeply apprehensive about venturing into whatever came next. My hand sought out the key around my neck, squeezing it for reassurance. Gigi went to this banquet , I thought. I can at least pretend to be as brave as she was .

  "Here we go, then," I said at last, stepping into the unknown.

  Lexie led the way down deserted streets, carrying a green lantern. Our footsteps echoed off darkened buildings barely taller than my head.

  "Where did everyone go?" I asked anxiously.

  Kate pointed forward. "Look."

  Up where the houses ended, I caught a glimpse of a mammoth crowd, the sky above them lit in an extraordinary way. Floating nearly low enough to touch, brilliant horizontal rainbows of illumination shimmered and flowed like phosphorescence on a night sea.

  "Leprechaun lights," Lexie told me proudly.

  "Rainbows at night," I breathed. "They're so beautiful!"

  Then we cleared the buildings, and the banquet spread before me. Laid out in a darkened field were a few hundred leprechaun-sized tables surrounded by tiny chairs.

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  Centerpieces of burning candles lit thousands of pointed faces with, wide excited eyes.

  The crowd caught sight of me. "Lilybet! Lilybet! Greeeeeeeeen!"

  As I stepped onto the clover, a volley of emerald fireworks exploded overhead, nearly scaring me out of my flats. Green sparks showered down through the swirling rainbows, and I felt my heart rise up, taking courage in the beauty of the moment.

  A bagpipe began playing. Bronwyn nudged my leg, urging me forward. At the center of the field, a large wooden platform held a long, almost-human-height table lit by dozens of candles and surrounded by one normal chair and twenty ladder-legged stools. I made my way to the platform, waving self-consciously to the leprechauns who called my name, pretending not to hear the gossip about me as I passed.

  "Lil! Lilybet!"

  "If she isn't the spitting image of our Maureen ..."

  "Those shoes are Horace Greens!"

  "Lil! Lil, over here!"

  "Pretty as a picture, she is. No, an angel."

  I climbed the steps to the platform in a daze. I had never felt so popular before--or heard a stranger say I was pretty. In the weirdest surroundings of my life, I actually felt kind of ... normal.

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  Five older leprechaun women stood waiting beside the long table, wearing robes of green velvet embroidered with silver. Their white-streaked greenish hair was swept up in intricate dos adorned with jewels and feathers. The most elegant woman in the group had hair that was nearly completely white and wore a robe of pure silver. A tiara of gumball-sized emeralds sparkled above matching crinkled eyes.

  "The council," Lexie whispered excitedly, trailing at my heels. "And our Mother, Sosanna, chief o' the Clan o' Green."

  The chief's emerald eyes met mine. "Welcome, Lilybet," she said. Her voice was strong and clear despite her obvious age. "You are very welcome."

  Sosanna raised a hand and a hush fell over the crowd. "Tonight we feast our sister Lilybet," she called out, "on-trial successor to our beloved Maureen. Let the banquet begin!"

  A rowdy cheer went up, drowned by the echoing booms of more green fireworks. The members of the council took seats at the table, assisted by sharply dressed male companions who claimed the stools at their sides.

  "Sit down, Lilybet! Take a load off!" a familiar voice urged. Balthazar had found his way onto the platform too. His beard was oiled and braided, and fancy medals covered his coat right down to his round belly. He looked so ridiculously full of himself I almost had to laugh. Instead I showed him my back and took the only chair.

  Bronwyn sat on the stool beside me. Lexie got my other

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  side. Installing himself next to Bronwyn--who I was starting to think was his girlfriend--Balthazar winked at me. "Brace yourself, Lil. Here comes the cheese!"

  Waiters balancing silver platters streamed onto the field. Some made their way to the platform, while dozens more worked the tables below, serving up an assortment of sliced cheeses. A leprechaun with silver pitchers in both hands filled goblets at our table with a nasty-looking green liquid that fizzed up, then skinned over like pond scum. Balthazar drank his down in three gulps and motioned for a refill. The waiter quickly obliged him before reaching toward my goblet.

  "I'm sure Lilybet would prefer water," Bronwyn intervened.

  Flushing, the leprechaun filled my goblet from his other pitcher and continued on his rounds.

  "What is that stuff?" I asked.

  "Clover ale." Bronwyn sipped hers with obvious enjoyment. "You're a bit young yet. I don't believe you'd like it."

  That made two of us. I was about to say so when a new waiter offered me cheese from a gleaming silver platter. Its mirror-like surface reflected a sight I'd hoped never to see: me, wearing a haircut so short it could only be called a pixie.

  To my amazement, I wasn't hideous.

  My hair framed my face in tufts and wisps, curving into long slender points that made my chin seem less sharp. The craziest part was that spiking my hair made my eyes

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  appear closer together. They were still wider than I would have liked, but that whole bug-eyed look? Almost gone.

  "You're welcome!" Kate said saucily from a couple of stools away. I grinned with gratitude, unable to believe I was actually happy about having my long hair whacked off.

  More waiters made the rounds. Fruit and bread joined the cheese on our plates. The main course was a hot potato casserole with sides of even more cheese, grilled sausages, and stringy stewed greens.

  And last but not least came the doughnuts. Bagpipes played again as a new set of waiters walked in balancing trays piled three feet high with an astounding assortment of doughnuts. There were green-frosted rings, long twists sparkling with green sugar, and golden pillows with green custard filling, all stacked up in concentric rings that looked like enormous wedding cakes. The custardy ones were my favorite, the doughnut part light and chewy, the filling flavored with sweet limes.

  "Your gran loved those too," Bronwyn told me as I polished off my second one. "We miss her so much."

  "Me too."

  She reached over to pat my hand. "Well, we have each other now, don't we? And all the years to come, just like Maureen would have wanted."

  Instead of feeling sad, I actually felt kind of comforted. At last I wasn't alone in missing Gigi.

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  "That's assuming you pass your trial, o' course," Kate piped in. "But the way you take after your gran, there's little chance o' anything else."

  "About this trial," I said, snagging another doughnut from a passing waiter. "What exactly is it for?"

  "What do you mean, girl?" Bronwyn asked. "It's how you become keeper."

  "Yes, but what does a keeper do?"

  "She keeps, o' course! She keeps for the clan."

  Her answers weren't remotely helpful, but I'd suddenly thought of a more important question. "Bronwyn, if I pass the test, will I be allowed to go home? Balthazar said Gigi came and went as she pleased."

  "Aye, and she did, once she was keeper. You'll--"

  Bagpipes launched into a crazed fanfare. Bronwyn stiffened with excitement. "Hush!" she whispered. "It's time!"

  Across the table from me, Sosanna stood on her stool to address the gathering. "Over the centuries," the chief intoned, "leplings have assisted their leprechaun brethren with many tasks: securing the deeds to our real estate, communications over the water, driving. But for the past three hundred years, ever since Donal Green devised his security spells, having a lepling keeper has been absolutely necessary. May Lilybet Green serve us well and faithfully, keeping the count, transferring what's needed, protecting and increasing the hoard o' Green for the rest o' her natural life."

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  The rest of my natural life? I didn't like the sound of that. And then things got worse.

  The chief raised both hands above her head, palms out toward the crowd. "Let the first test begin!"

  "What!" I cried into a deafening roar of approval. "The first test?"

  Nobody heard me.

  I looked over at a grinning Balthazar. "You said there was one test!"

  "Cheers, Lil!" he yelled back, applauding as if he couldn't understand me over the noise. "You'll do grand!"

  Everyone was clapping away as if I ought to be delighted. I shot wounded looks at Bronwyn and Lexie, feeling totally betrayed. I didn't want to take their stupid first test. I didn't want to take any test.

  I just wanted to go home.

  No one cared what I wanted, though. The leprechauns marched me off the platform and back through the town, me protesting the entire way that I was tired, that it was dark, that my stomach ached, all to no avail. Skirting the keeper's cottage, we entered the wide field behind it, only a few torches lighting our way to the rocky hill on its other side. A dark slit appeared between boulders. We were headed into another cave.

  "Not a chance!" I said, digging in with Gigi's flats. "There's no way I'm going in there!"

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  "But you have to, Lil," Lexie said. "That's the test."

  "Crawling through a dirty cave?" I was about to tell her I'd already been there, done that, when I noticed the odd expression in Lexie's eyes. She was looking up at me as if ... as if she looked up to me. As if I were one of the cool kids. "What kind of stupid test is that?" I stalled.

  "The standard first test," Bronwyn replied. "Nothing to trouble the mind o' any true granddaughter o' Maureen's. Now, Lil, in you go."

  Lexie was still gazing at me in that hero-worshipping way. One of my shoes inched toward the entrance as if it had a mind of its own. The next thing I knew, I'd stepped inside a completely dark cave.

  "You guys!" I complained, turning back toward the entrance. "Bring in some of those torches!"

  In almost the same instant, a grinding, crashing thud jolted the earth as something huge fell across the cave entrance, blocking out all but a chink of dark gray sky.

  "Help! Cave-in!" I cried, throwing myself up against the darkness. My hands clawed cold, damp stone.

  "It's not a cave-in, Lil," Balthazar chirped cheerfully from the other side. "Bit o' a heavy door, that's all."

  They had sealed me in on purpose? I wanted to scream with rage, but I was too petrified. Instead, I huddled against the stone, unable to believe how stupid I was.

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  Balthazar clucked reassuringly through the tiny airhole. "Now then, Lil, nothing to worry about."

  And then a second, smaller stone plugged the opening completely.

  I sank to my haunches. The darkness was so intense it seemed to have a life of its own. I imagined it breathing against my skin--until I realized something else could be in the cave with me, something that actually breathed.

  What if I'm dragon food? In a meadow crawling with leprechauns, anything seemed possible. Squelching a whimper, I pressed my back against the cold stone and strained to hear any sound: a rustle, a slither, the smacking of lips.

  Nothing reached my ears but my own strangled breathing. Even the crowd outside had gone completely silent. Eventually, I realized they'd left.

  They probably don't want to hear my screams as the flesh is torn off my bones .

  Frightened tears slipped down my cheeks, gradually drying into clammy tracks. Nothing crawled out of the darkness. If I wasn't a midnight snack, why was I there? Was I just supposed to stay put all night, freezing my butt off in the dark? Or was something more expected of me?

  Wiping my nose on Gigi's sleeve, I stroked the key around my neck. It felt warm beneath my fingers, full of comforting memories. I ran my fingertips up and down it,

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  thinking of Gigi and happier times. The gold grew even warmer. Then slowly, very dimly, the key began to glow.

  I blinked a couple of times, not believing my eyes. But the light got even stronger, cranking up until it blazed. I stared at the key in amazement, and then I realized something else: the rock walls of my prison were visible at last.

  The space I was trapped in was no bigger than a classroom. I breathed a sigh of relief as my key light reached its far corners; I might be by myself, but at least I was alone.

  I ventured farther into the cave, holding the key like a flashlight. The cave's back wall was a sheer stone face ten feet tall. I shuffled toward it, drawn in a way I couldn't explain. My eyes scanned each rocky bump and divot, and that was when I saw it: carved into the wall, right at eye level, was a perfect keyhole.

  And there I stood, holding a magical key.

  Not stopping to think, I slipped Gigi's key into the rock. It slid in as if greased, disappearing up to its hilt.

  The stone wall shimmered, then vanished in a puff of dust. I gasped as a much larger cave was revealed behind it, one loaded to its stalactites with glowing leprechaun gold.

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  Chapter 6

  All the blood in my body rushed straight to my head...Gold sparkled and glittered and gleamed until my brain nearly shorted out. For a moment, I just stood there, staring. Then I found my legs again and ran in among the treasure.

  There were piles and piles of coins mounded higher than my head--disks like dimes with holes drilled through them, solid rounds the size of coasters, and quarter-sized coins stamped with clovers and crowns. Gold bars the size of erasers, of sticks of butter, of bricks, were stacked in pyramids ten feet high, right up to the ceiling. There were other

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  golden objects too: plump gold eggs, heavy-linked chains, goblets, plates, a human baby shoe. And filling every space between were truckloads of gold nuggets, from lumps smaller than raisins to hunks the size of my fist.

  The gold sucked me into its center as if it had its own gravity. Its strange flickering glow filled the cave with light. I waded ankle-deep through nuggets, my hands reaching out first to stroke, then to grab. Snatching handfuls of coins, I tossed them up into the air and watched them rain back down.

  "Whoo-hoo!" I shouted, skipping from pile to pile, kicking nuggets about. My shout echoed off the spiky roof and bounced back into untold tons of hoarded leprechaun gold. I finally understood what I was supposed to be keeping.

  I was in charge of all this gold!

  Darting from side to side, I touched everything within reach and tried to guess what it was all worth. Millions, for sure , I thought. Probably billions!

  I had never much cared about m
oney before, but I suddenly understood why people spent their whole lives chipping through solid rock or standing in freezing streams swirling gravel around a pan. I knew in the deepest part of myself why people fought and died for gold, and even why they killed.

  I had gold lust, and I had it bad.

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  I ran deeper and deeper into the cave. The gold stretched on like a sweet dream. At last the cave's real back wall came into view, and in a cozy open pocket between its smooth stone and the last mounds of gold were a cot, a chair, a stack of empty burlap sacks with green lashing cords, and an antique desk. A lamp burned on the desk beside an open leather-bound book. I moved closer, intrigued.

  Cramped rows of green handwriting formed columns stretching halfway down the book's open page. The enormous ledger was jam-packed with strange names, numbers, and dates. With a start, I recognized the tiny writing: Gigi's. Her final three lines read:

  Feegan Green +500 dymers 6 August 48

  Evan Green +4 gold eggs 13 August 48

  Nonny Green-9 deloreans 24 August 48

  I flipped backward through the pages. The book's paper was thin as a Bible's, but somehow the writing inked on both sides didn't bleed through. The last number in Gigi's entries ticked gradually backward from forty-eight to one. Instinctively, I understood that the center column kept track of the gold entering and leaving the cave, but I just didn't get those dates. They obviously couldn't stand for 2001 to 2048, and 1901 to 1948 didn't make sense either.

  Finally, on a page by itself, I found this:

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  Here begins the Accounting of Maureen Green

  in the first year of her service as

  Keeper of the Clan of Green.

  The first line of the next page read:

 

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