Ellie awakened on the third day of her lake patrol feeling decidedly blue. She had caught glimpses of Omar only from a distance during the past two days, usually near the guests’ dining hall in the company of several other young men, including that odd champion of panfish, Torbjorn. While this was considerably better than seeing him in the company of fawning girls, she wasn’t sure whether he noticed her at all.
The Zeidan family always reserved the royal suite for four weeks; Omar had missed the first two weeks, and the third was flying past. Ellie’s heart hurt at the thought of not seeing him again for an entire year . . . or ever.
This was bad. This was very bad. Her heartache was nonsensical, of course, for she scarcely knew the boy and had conversed with him only a few times. She was simply infatuated with his looks. And perhaps also with his gentle voice and his reputation as a true gentleman and his mathematical genius and the way he interacted with his younger siblings and . . . She could go on for hours, but what was the point? The brain fever would surely pass once he was out of her life for good.
After feeding the sprites and imps, she slipped into another of her practical swimsuits and a pair of sport shorts—the resort’s dress code was stricter for staff than for guests—and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. At least she looked clean, not sooty or gray, she mused while regarding her reflection. The charmed sun-deflecting spray preserved her fair complexion, protected her eyes, and kept her hair from drying out.
She was pretty, she knew, for male guests frequently sought her attention and pelted her with admiring comments on her face and figure, some appreciated, most not so much. But amid crowds of attractive young princesses and noblewomen who frequented beauty spas, wore the latest and most extravagant fashions, and had full access to Prince Omar’s time and attention, Ellie felt like a shadow.
Another quick breakfast, a few greetings exchanged with coworkers, and she was off to the lake. The guests usually didn’t show up directly after breakfast, so she and three other lifeguards straightened the various storage sheds filled with sports gear, swim fins, wetsuits, and life vests, cleared the beach of any rubbish that might have washed ashore overnight, then paused to enjoy a few minutes of silence and sunshine before their real work began. Iridescent dragonflies supplied air cover, snatching midges and mosquitoes in midair.
Ellie was out on the lake when the first guests arrived, flying over the waves with the wind in her face, her ponytail streaming behind. How could anyone feel depressed on this glorious summer day at the most beautiful place in the world? She was a lucky girl with a fascinating future before her. She didn’t need a man to complete her; she was a complete person with much to offer the world.
It was all true. Her feelings didn’t respond to her own voice charms, but who could deny the truth? She lifted her chin and put Omar out of her thoughts.
This lasted until close to noon, when she noticed a guy on a single water ski fly up the ramp, stick a perfect landing, then shake a fist in triumph. A trick skier with brown skin who looked like Omar. But he couldn’t be Omar. Had one of his brothers arrived? She slowed her scooter to watch.
While the ski boat raced across the lake, the skier did numerous front flips and side flips off its wake with perfect control. Definitely Omar, she decided, and he was even better than she’d remembered. He must have been skiing at other venues all these years. As the ski boat passed her position, she vaguely recognized its driver as Torbjorn, the fish guy. Where was the spotter? There didn’t seem to be a . . . An instant later she sat upright on her scooter with a jolt. A man was driving the ski boat and heading straight toward the island! The buzzing sound in her head . . . Sirens! She must stop him! She must—
The skier flew high into the air, lost his ski, did a spectacular aerial cartwheel, and landed hard on the water. “Omar!” she cried, and her scooter was in motion. All thought of Torbjorn and sirens had fled. The water around Omar seemed to boil as something huge passed below.
“No!” Ellie cried in horror. Omar had popped to the surface and was upright and conscious, paddling with his arms and staring about with wide eyes. Ellie was racing toward him, calling his name, when a huge, weedy-looking head rose from the water just ahead.
She had to turn her scooter aside and drop her speed. The lake serpent turned toward her, revealing strange yellow eyes with slitted pupils and a mouthful of dagger-sharp teeth. Then it arched out of the water with its mouth agape and crunched down on something floating on the surface. The water ski!
Turning back to Ellie, the monster grinned wickedly, waggled its ears, flicked its tail out of the water some distance away, and sank beneath the waves. It must be near forty feet long and very powerful. It might have broken Omar’s back with a flick of its tail. It might have bitten him in half . . .
“Ellie!”
She spun on her seat and saw him swimming toward her, buoyed yet hampered by his life vest. “Omar!” she cried in relief and stopped her scooter to let him close the gap rather than risk running him over. His eyes were huge, and he scrambled up behind her so quickly that she had no time even to offer him a hand.
There was no blood. He seemed well and whole. Prince Omar was seated behind her on the scooter and soaking her with cold water! Life was suddenly very good. Ellie felt quite fond of the lake serpent.
“Are you injured at all?” she asked, amazed at her own outward composure.
“N-no.” His teeth were chattering. He was shaking all over, and she saw gooseflesh on his brown arms. “Ellie! Ellie, I . . . I . . .” He fell silent, apparently at a loss for words.
Immediately she strove to calm him. Forget the rules; Omar needed comforting. “Those were some amazing stunts, especially the jump off the ramp. I can’t imagine why the lake monster knocked you down, but at least there’s no other harm done. Well, except to your ski. I’ll drive around until we find it—what’s left of it—and you’ll soon dry off and warm up.” She was babbling, but the charm worked anyway. As it always did.
Omar sat up very straight behind her and didn’t seem to know where to hold on. She wasn’t sure how to tell him that he should hold onto her. But for now it didn’t matter; she was merely coasting about in search of his ski. Which they did locate, neatly snapped in half with no ragged edges. “Now why would the monster destroy your ski?” Ellie wondered aloud as they picked up the halves.
He said nothing. She laid the pieces across her lap and was about to tell Omar to hold on, when the water boiled up and something struck the scooter from below. Ellie lost her seat briefly but caught the handles and pulled herself and the ski pieces back in place just as she heard a splash behind her. “Omar?”
He was in the water again, looking more nervous than ever. This time he accepted Ellie’s hand but mostly pulled himself up. “Hold on to me,” she told him firmly. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, and his cold, wet legs pressed against hers.
Big mistake. She could hardly remember how to make the scooter go.
Omar could hardly believe he was clinging to Ellie. She was sun-warmed and smelled amazing, and she was in his arms . . . somewhere inside her life vest.
Amid all the crazy results of his decision to ski on Faraway Lake again, this one outcome made the risk worthwhile. Ellie had told him to hold on to her, and he was not about to make her say it twice. Her ponytail blew into his face, and he closed his eyes and tried to hold on to the moment.
The scooter slowed. Omar opened his eyes. They were still out in the lake, far from the docks and facing the island. “Oh no,” Ellie said.
“What?” he spoke almost into her ear.
She hesitated, then said, “Your driver. He beached the boat on the sirens’ island, and I can’t see him anywhere. He must have gotten out and walked away. I don’t think anyone has ever done such a thing before. I’ll have to go or send someone to get him.”
Just then, something slimy rose from the water and brushed Omar’s ankle. He let out a yell and jerked his leg up, nearly capsizing the scooter. Too late he realized that his scream had sounded disturbingly like one of Rita’s.
Ellie turned, shifting on the seat and pulling out of his grasp to fix him with a direct stare. “What is going on? Why is the lake serpent tormenting you?”
Omar felt his face go hot and hoped she wouldn’t notice his blush. “It hates me because my brother Hachim and I once surprised it while it was sunbathing. It looked so funny floating on its back with its white belly reflecting the sun and a big smile on its face.”
“You laughed at the lake serpent?” she asked, her eyes wide, remembering her encounter the day before.
He nodded, holding her gaze, noticing flecks of blue and green in her silvery eyes. “Then it capsized our canoe. We had to swim ashore, thinking all the time it was going to eat us, but it only knocked us around a bit. It was a long walk back to the castle. That’s why I haven’t gone near the lake in years. It always knows and stalks me. I used to have nightmares that it would come after me on land.”
She gazed into his eyes a moment longer, searching, wondering. “Then why did you go skiing today?” Her voice was quiet.
His heart pounded so hard, he was afraid she would feel it through their lifejackets. “Because . . . because it was the only way I could be near you.”
Her lashes fell, hiding her eyes, and pink bloomed in her cheeks. She suddenly turned and leaned forward, opened a small compartment in the scooter’s dashboard, and drew out a familiar spray bottle. She propped it on her knee and waited.
Omar studied her in profile, her smooth forehead, her cute nose, her full lips and determined chin. What was she thinking? Would she ever speak to him again? Had he driven her away with his blunt honesty?
When the monster’s spiky, dripping head broke the surface, mouth agape to show all its ugly teeth, Ellie was ready. She sprayed it right in the mouth with her potion, replacing its fishy breath with fresh peppermint. “Monster dear, you must leave Prince Omar alone now. He has learned his lesson and is sorry for ever teasing you. He knows now that you are a magnificent creature to be feared and revered, never mocked.”
The monster closed its mouth, apparently to ponder the minty flavor. Its eyes still glittered, but it appeared open to suggestion. Ellie nudged Omar’s lifejacket with her elbow. “Apologize now,” she whispered.
“Ah, um, yes. O great monster of the lake,” he began, “I apologize for my rude and unkind behavior to you. I was an insolent and foolish boy with no respect for those older and wiser than myself. And handsomer,” he added. “Please forgive me.”
The monster’s rounded ears and fleshy beard twitched, and its uncanny eyes seemed to study Omar’s face in search of hypocrisy. Omar held his breath. Then its nostrils opened wide and blew out a misty breath very like a sigh. It blinked once at Ellie then swam off, making perfectly spaced loops of its body above the surface for some time before diving out of sight.
He watched tension drain from Ellie’s profile. “That was a lovely apology,” she observed. “I think you’re forgiven.”
“I think that monster likes you,” he responded. “It would never have forgiven me if you hadn’t told it to. And it was showing off for you there at the end.”
A smile crept over her face, and she gave him a twinkling glance over her shoulder. “It was, wasn’t it?” But then she stowed away her bottle and revved the scooter. “I must get you back to shore and send someone after your driver.”
“The sirens won’t hurt Tor, will they? He’s king of a strange agent; he spends his life studying or working. The guy knows everything there is to know about fish. But he’s a good friend.”
“No, the sirens won’t hurt him, but they don’t need encouragement. The last thing we need is for one of them to fall in love with him. Hang on.”
Omar wanted to ask what would happen if a siren fell in love with a man, but he held his tongue, resumed his grasp around Ellie’s life vest, and stared at the back of her neck with her ponytail whipping his face until they approached the dock.
Two other workers were there to meet them and tie up the scooter, including the supervisor, Bence, who gave Omar a hand but ignored Ellie. “What happened?” the man asked gruffly. “Why did the lake serpent attack you? Are you injured, Your Highness?”
“I’m not injured,” Omar said. “The serpent didn’t hurt me.” He turned back to give Ellie a hand, but she was already on the dock and walking away. He shoved his way through the frightened, curious, excited crowd to reach her side. She was talking with three other lifeguards, with her back to him. He wanted to touch her arm but didn’t dare. Instead he spoke firmly. “Ellie?”
She turned, and for an instant he saw her eyes brighten, but then her face went still and she spoke quickly. “Your Highness, I am thankful you’re unharmed. We’re making plans to rescue your friend now.” Then she turned back to her coworkers, who stared at him with eager curiosity.
Omar spent the next several hours repeating the story of his rescue. Again and again, to lifeguards, the resort director, and the staff psychologist, he told everything that had happened (except the details most important to him, of course) and emphasized Ellie’s heroic role.
Later, in private, he would recall every detail of Ellie’s face and voice, and the feel of her—and her lifejacket—in his arms.