Ellie ate a quick lunch in the staff dining hall with Jeralee and Rosa, who both ranted quietly about her public reprimand. But the situation was too painful and puzzling for her to discuss easily. “You two are the best,” she said sincerely as she rose to carry her tray to the counter. “I really do appreciate your support.”
Rosa nodded. “We understand. When and if you’re ready to talk about it, we’ll be here.”
“She won’t dare fire you, Ellie,” Jeralee repeated for at least the third time. “You work for the Gamekeeper.”
Ellie tried to smile. “Hope you’re right. See you later. I’ve got to report at the stables.”
At least, she thought while taking a shortcut through the garden, she enjoyed working with horses, though she wasn’t much of a rider. The three dwarfs and two brownies who ran the stables were her old friends, so this “punishment” assignment should be enjoyable.
A few hours of shoveling manure and toting carts of muck outside to dump on a compost heap gave Ellie plenty of time to think. Perhaps a few days of stable work involving no contact with Prince Omar would allow Madame’s displeasure to fasten on someone else. One could hope.
She enjoyed listening while Cog the stable manager, Tea, his wife, and their son, Kai, discussed the arrival of new foals. Horses shifted in their box stalls, and through the open barn door she could see others grazing peacefully at pasture. A sense of deep contentment pushed worry from her heart.
Then a message came from the castle: Six hunters were required for a cross-country outing in thirty minutes.
The dwarfs hopped to work, and Ellie scrambled to help groom and saddle the horses. Like most animals, horses responded well to her soothing magic, so she enjoyed renewing her acquaintance with a sweet chestnut mare called Solvig and a handsome bay gelding known as Dustin.
Just as Kai led out the sixth horse, the riding party arrived, four men and two ladies, all dressed in fine riding attire and safety helmets. Ellie scanned them with little interest until a face caught her eye. Prince Omar looked particularly classy in buff breeches, a black polo shirt, and a glossy pair of riding boots. And on either side of him, Raquel and the Honorable Gillian in chic, snug-fitting jackets, jodhpurs, and boots.
Suddenly short of breath, her stomach aching, Ellie ducked behind the horse closest to the stable, hoping to slip inside unnoticed. But just when she reached the doorway, a familiar voice said quietly, “May I have some help over here?”
She slowly turned. The others were all mounting up, but Omar stood beside the tall gray, his expression somewhere between respectful and hopeful. “I seem to have a problem with the bridle.”
“Of course.” She hadn’t tacked up this horse, but she still might be useful. When she approached, Omar handed her the reins, put his hand on the bridle’s cheek strap as if he were showing her something, then leaned close and said, “I hear you’re in trouble about yesterday. Is there any way I can fix it? You were in no way at fault.”
She shook her head. “Bence says I need to keep my head down for a while. Which means not socializing with guests. I thought you would be at the lake today.”
His expression made her knees melt. “I was, but you weren’t there,” he said. “So now I’m here, and today is no longer a total loss.”
“Omar!” Raquel’s sharp voice called, startling Ellie so that she jumped and had to stop herself from looking around. “Hurry up! We’re ready to ride out.”
He held Ellie’s gaze one moment longer, touched her fingers when he took back the reins, then leaped up on his horse, swung his leg over, and settled into the saddle in one continuous motion. “Sorry,” he said to the group. “Something needed fixing.”
And the entire group rode off, hoofbeats thundering nearly as erratically as Ellie’s heart. Did she welcome further attention from Omar despite the director’s warnings? Yes. Emphatically, yes.
Cog started assigning work. “Kai,” he said, “you and Ellie clean the nursery barn.”
Oh joy. More manure.
Kai was a sweet young dwarf near Ellie’s age, but he always clammed up around her. Shy, no doubt. Today she wished he were more of a talker, for shoveling out stalls occupied her body but not her mind, and her thoughts tended to run in dizzying circles. What could she do to prove her competence to Madame Genevieve? Did Omar truly care for her, or was he merely flirting? He had always seemed more studious than flirtatious, but maybe he had changed during the past year.
Within the hour, they heard a shout from outside. “Are they back already?” Ellie asked.
Kai looked puzzled. “We didn’t expect them for another hour at least.”
They laid aside their rakes and hurried outside to see the entire group enter the stable yard, several of their horses lathered and wild-eyed. The mare Solvig was riderless, while another carried two people: Gillian perched behind Omar on his horse, her arms around his waist. As Ellie hurried forward with the others to take reins and calm the agitated horses, she saw Omar jump down from his horse and reach up to help Gillian down.
Ellie felt slightly sick. Why had Gillian been sharing his horse?
The members of the riding party all seemed to talk at once. With some difficulty Ellie discerned that they had encountered something frightening. She was too busy calming poor Solvig to hear what that something had been.
“You’re all right,” she told the mare, slowly drawing closer as the terror faded from the horse’s eyes. “You’re safe here, sweet girl, and whatever frightened you is far away now. You have a clean stall and a snack of fresh hay waiting for you in the rack.” Cautiously she reached up to stroke the mare’s sweating neck then scratched between her jawbones. When Solvig stretched her neck forward to enjoy the scratching, Ellie knew all was well. She straightened a flaxen forelock over Solvig’s pretty white blaze and let the horse bump her shoulder with a soft pink nose.
Tea spoke just behind her. “That girl was cruel to her. Look at the blood around her mouth.” She took Solvig’s reins. “Thank you for calming her. Some of the others need your help too.” The dwarfs were short, yet the horses responded better to them than to most humans, Ellie noticed. Kai had a particular connection with the great beasts.
Both Omar’s mount and Dustin seemed tired but calm enough, so she moved on to the other three horses, soothing and encouraging until all were placid and cooperative. Omar and the blond young man who’d ridden Dustin worked alongside the dwarfs to care for the horses while the other four riders stood across the stable yard. The two men conversed quietly, but the girls had no filters.
Gillian’s voice was at least an octave higher than usual as she described her ordeal. “I shan’t sleep a wink tonight, I know! The monster leaped out at us, and that horrid beast I was riding dumped me into a clump of little pine trees, and my new jodhpurs are covered in sap. Look at them! Quite ruined! Then the beast refused to let me mount again, and everyone kept shouting at me.”
“Because you were a complete idiot about handling that horse,” Raquel remarked with a wry smile, snapping her boot with her riding crop.
“I was not! It was a terrifying experience. I could have been killed! All of the horses were frantic, and I was nearly paralyzed with fright.”
“Paralyzed people don’t wail like banshees,” Raquel put in.
Gillian continued without pause: “But then Omar drew me up behind him on his horse, and I felt safe.” She cast an adoring gaze Omar’s way, but he was bent over, cleaning a rear hoof of the “horrid beast,” and didn’t seem to hear.
Lady Raquel told her to please be quiet, sounding even sharper than usual. “One would think you’d encountered a werewolf or dragon, the way you go on. It was only a unicorn, Gillian.”
A unicorn. They had encountered a unicorn on the mountain! Forgetting her pride, forgetting all else, Ellie hurried over to question the riders. “Please tell me about the unicorn. Where did you see it, and what did it do?” she asked, carefully keeping magic compulsion out of her voice.
The two girls stared at her.
“Where did you come from?” Raquel blurted.
Gillian looked her up and down. “You are always dirty. Why should we tell you anything, Cinder Ellie?”
Before Ellie could respond, the blond boy joined the group and answered her questions. “Gillian wasn’t jumping today, so she was on the bridle trail alongside the eighth jump, a double gate, when her horse shied and tossed her. I thought I saw something pale in the trees and rode closer to see.”
“Beside the eighth jump,” Ellie repeated. “Go on. What did you see that identified it as a unicorn?”
His brows jerked upward, but he continued: “It charged my horse then vanished behind a bush. Everything happened fast, but I remember the horn and the wild eyes.”
Raquel spoke directly to him, placing her shoulder between him and Ellie. “I thought it seemed lethargic for a unicorn, Your Highness,” she said. “I’ve seen one before. This one seemed slow.”
This blond boy was a prince? No wonder Raquel was being territorial.
“Nonsense,” Gillian snapped. “It was crazy and dangerous! It would have killed me if not for Omar.” She turned and again gazed toward Omar with dewy eyes. He rubbed down a tall bay mare, apparently oblivious to the entire conversation.
“All resort guests are given a button to push, on a wristband like this, if they’re ever threatened by a magical creature,” Ellie said firmly, displaying her receiver. “It transmits location. One of you should have thought to use it.”
“Is that what the wristband is for? I got one, but I left it in my room,” the prince confessed with an apologetic smile. “I’m new here. Sorry!”
“A stupid wristband wouldn’t have helped us fight off a crazed unicorn,” Gillian scoffed.
“I never wear mine,” Raquel added. “Unless it transforms into a magic sword for fighting off monsters, I don’t see the use.”
“Its use lies in bringing help to wherever the magic creature is.” Ellie stood firm. “A unicorn can be lethal if it feels threatened. Usually they are gentle and reclusive, not aggressive.”
Raquel said with a low chuckle, “The girl who catches cinder sprites thinks she knows all.” Turning again to the blond prince, she asked, “Would you like to join my family for dinner tonight, Your Highness? I’m sure you know many people here, but no one would appreciate your company more than your own nobles.”
“Thank you, my lady, but I already have dinner plans.” The prince was polite yet cool, and Ellie thought she detected a faint hint of irony in his tone. After giving dismissive little bows to Raquel and Gillian, he turned to Ellie.
Amid the jumble of emotions emanating from the group of riders, she sensed nothing from this prince. Ah, so he was magical too! How powerful was he? She casually probed around . . . and felt a jolt, like an electric shock in her mind.
His silvery eyes glinted in amusement. “I apologize for the oversight regarding the wristband, Miss . . .? I don’t believe I’ve heard your name.”
Ellie was too surprised to speak. Had he stopped her from prying into his magic? How?
“She’s just a worker here, and a know-it-all,” Raquel informed him, then turned a jealous eye upon Ellie. “She has no authority over us whatsoever, Your Highness.”
The other two men now stepped over and joined the group. “There’s no need to send any messages. We can handle one unicorn, I should hope,” the one with a thick black beard stated. “We’ll put together a hunting party and handle the beast.”
“No!” Bristling, Ellie looked this man straight in the eyes, for she was his equal in height. “You will not search for the unicorn, and you certainly will not capture or kill it. Magical beasts on Faraway Castle property are off-limits to all guests.” She struggled to hold back her magic, feeling ready to burst with it.
And felt a gentle restraint, like a hand on her shoulder—only it was inside her mind.
The bearded man glared back at her with ice-blue eyes. “Who are you, girl, to order me around? I am Maximilian of Petrovce, Crown Prince and Guardian of the Realm.”
Yet another arrogant prince. Ellie wanted to roll her eyes.
Raquel laughed. “She is Cinder Ellie, trapper of cinder sprites and garden imps.”
Ellie sensed a reassuring presence behind her just before Omar spoke. “As Controller of Magical Creatures on resort property, Ellie Calmer possesses authority to protect her charges from all guests, royal, noble, or otherwise.” His quiet voice carried a note of finality that impressed the others, for, aside from Gillian’s murmured complaints and Raquel’s murmured orders to shut her mouth, no one said another word.
Most of the party left soon afterward, giving up on Omar. The blond prince—whose name she still did not know—gave Ellie a parting promise. “I’ll keep an eye on ol’ Max, and from now on, I promise to use my wristband if there’s a problem with a magical creature.”
“Thank you.”
She sensed friendly approval like a pat on her shoulder . . . though he merely bowed, gave Omar a knowing look, and walked after the others.
“Who is he?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing him before.”
“Can’t remember his name right off, but he’s from Auvers. A good kid. He’s grown up a lot in the past few years.” But Omar sounded distracted, and she knew he intended to talk with her.
Ellie turned to untie Dustin’s lead rope, focusing on it instead of meeting Omar’s eyes. “Thank you for standing up for me just then. My position doesn’t tend to garner much respect from guests.”
“They get my blood up, the way they talk about you. And to you. It’s just wrong,” he growled.
Seeing Omar angry was a new experience for Ellie. Angry on her behalf, even. She wasn’t sure what to say. “Thank you for caring.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t change things, but it matters to me.”
“I care a lot more than that, Ellie.”
He followed her as she led Dustin into a box stall, but she turned on him before he could enter behind her. “Your Highness, you say you care, and you asked how you might help me.”
“I do, and I did.”
She saw the truth of his words in his eyes, which made it harder to continue. “I must tell you that my contact with you twice this week has caught the director’s notice. The rules about fraternization with guests are strict, and the lake-staff supervisor thinks Madame Genevieve may be looking for a reason to fire me. I’m not sure she has that authority, but . . . Please, please . . .”
She didn’t know quite what to ask of him. Did she really want him to leave her alone? “If I were to lose this position, I don’t know what I’d do. I mean, the resort is my home now.”
He looked crushed. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault, really.”
“The ski-boat incident was. Tor wanted to take the boat, and I went along with him and skied without a spotter. I knew the lake monster hated me, and we both knew the sirens would call. We were irresponsible, and you’re taking the blame. It isn’t right.”
Ellie’s brows drew together. “Did you hear the sirens?”
“I heard something, but I was too intent on showing off for you.” His boyish grin and honesty were contagious, but she resisted.
“You heard the siren call,” she repeated, “and it didn’t affect you? How can that be?”
He looked baffled. “Maybe I wasn’t close enough? Maybe they aimed their song at Tor since he was driving.”
Ellie could only shake her head. “Are you sure you don’t have magic?”
“If I do, I’m not aware of it. Tor doesn’t have magic either.”
Ellie removed the horse’s halter then stroked his smooth side while he pulled straw from a rack. “Tor is kind of . . . different, isn’t he?”
Omar stood just inside the open stall door, several feet away. “I see him now and then at school—he works at a private ocean-research lab in Barbacha, near the university. He’s working on a doctorate, and he travels a lot. But I met him first here at the resort years ago—he came twice, I think—and yeah, he always was unique.”
“Crazy about fish?” Ellie smiled at him over her shoulder.
“He used to be crazy about birds, but that changed.” His face brightening, Omar leaned against the doorframe. “He’s my brother Taim’s age, and I tagged along with that group when I was a kid. Tor’s from Hyllestad, way in the north, and his father is a greve.”
“What does that mean? It sounds like a kind of bird.”
He chuckled. “A greve is the equivalent of a count or earl. But Tor cares little about politics or society.” Omar spoke easily, sounding more confident than she’d ever heard him outside of statistics or calculus discussions. “He’s got more brains than should rightfully fit into one man’s head.”
“You should talk, Mr. Mathematician.”
Omar looked sheepish. “I’m sure he’s smarter than me. I’m not sure what brought him back to Faraway Castle after all these years. He’s close-mouthed about his personal life.”
“Interesting,” Ellie said, trying to process this new picture of the panfish champion.
“Hmm. Not too interesting, I hope,” Omar said.
She glanced up and caught a warm, teasing glint in his eyes. Immediately she focused on smoothing a section of Dustin’s mane. The stall seemed small and intimate, and she heard no other voices in the stable. The horse let out a long breath and shifted his weight off one rear foot, eyes half shut.
“Where will you be working tomorrow?’ Omar asked. “I will be discreet, I promise. More than anything, I want to be near you, Ellie. I’ve wanted to know you for years now. Do I annoy you? Tell me honestly if you’ve had enough and wish I would fade into the woodwork.”
He sounded so vulnerable. She believed he was sincere. But . . . he was a prince!
Ellie shoved her shaking hands into her coverall pockets and turned to face him with the solid warmth of the horse at her back. “I don’t think you should follow me, Your Highness. I . . . I can’t . . .”
He swallowed hard. “I’m moving too fast and scaring you. I’m no good at this. I don’t know how to talk to girls. Not about anything that matters. I never really wanted to before.” That quickly his demeanor changed back to self-conscious uncertainty.
She took a quick step toward him, saying, “No, no! You’re not the problem. I mean, not the real you. But you’re a prince, and I’m . . . I’m Cinder Ellie, the sprite wrangler.” Her hands flew up in frustration. “Omar, please go away!” But her voice betrayed her by breaking.
Renewed hope burned in his eyes, and he bowed gracefully. “As you wish. Until we meet again, Ellie Calmer.”
Ellie closed her eyes and clenched her fists until she knew he was gone. Then she let out a long breath. The more time she spent with Omar, the more she wanted him near . . . and the more complicated her life became. If he took her seriously and stopped coming around, she thought her heart might break. But it had to happen sometime—there could be no future together for a prince and a cinder-sprite wrangler.
Time to concentrate on important matters. Such as contacting the Gamekeeper.
That evening, back at her cottage, Ellie pulled a tiny silver tube from her pack, opened one end, and spoke into it. “Guests encountered a unicorn today near the cross-country course. I have a dozen sprites and two imps. Please come soon.” The Gamekeeper would understand the urgency of the situation when he heard her message.
As soon as evening darkened to night, she stood at her cottage door and gave a churring trill. Another trill echoed hers, and a shadow flitted past her through the open doorway and perched on the back of a chair.
The nightjar messenger and the magical speaking tubes had been provided to her by the Gamekeeper himself, and using them never failed to make her feel privileged and important.
She held up the tube. “To the Gamekeeper, if you please.” The bird made no objection when she slid the tube into a ring on its leg. “Thank you,” she said.
It bowed its head briefly, then opened its pointed wings and darted away. She caught only a glimpse of it against the sky before it disappeared into the night.