“I’m terrified of heights!” Ellie scarcely recognized that shrill voice as hers.
The Gamekeeper stepped away from the precipice, bringing Ellie with him. “I apologize. I hadn’t thought how the altitude might affect you. Come. I brought us here to the entrance rather than invade the family’s privacy, but we can move further into the cave.” As they turned, she glanced back and realized they stood at the entrance of a cave near the top of a sheer mountain surrounded by other peaks. Despite the glaciers all around and a brisk wind, she did not feel cold, yet terror sent tremors through her body and her teeth chattered.
At the Gamekeeper’s urging, her feet moved even as her brain felt immobile. Not until solid walls surrounded her and the cave opening was a bright spot in her peripheral vision did she begin to relax.
“What is this place? It smells strange.”
“We are at the home of a magical creature who may be able to shed light on your history,” the Gamekeeper replied. He spoke quietly, yet his voice always made her soul shiver. “I sent a message and expect him to arrive shortly. I will allow no harm to come to you, Miss Calmer.” He sounded genuinely regretful.
But then she heard a cry that turned her blood to ice. Slowly she looked up and saw her nightmare alight at the cave’s entrance. Burning yellow eyes, feathers, talons reaching to grab her, an open beak . . . Ellie screamed . . .
She saw spinning mountain peaks beneath her, felt the rush of wind that blocked all other sound, including her own screams. Then something grasped her arms, jerking her body forward and up instead of down. Her head snapped back, and she stared up at the underside of a strange birdlike creature.
“You are safe, Ellie. He will not harm you.” The voice seemed to speak into her thoughts, into her memory.
Ellie opened her eyes but saw only the Gamekeeper’s hooded profile. She still stood upright, clinging to his arm. Briefly she considered the fact that she was at the mercy of not one but two monsters. Yet his presence was comforting after all.
For he stood between her and the creature now silhouetted against the cave’s entrance: an enormous griffin.
Cruel yellow eyes stared at her, a huge beak snapped in irritation, and long talons clicked on the stone floor as it approached, folding its wings. “Why have you come?” It spoke clearly, its tone regal and resentful.
“Greetings, Vlad.”
The griffin lowered its head in response. “Your Eminence.”
Only then did the Gamekeeper answer, “I wish to know if you once captured a human girl-child and left it at Arabella’s door.”
The creature’s golden neck feathers ruffled. “What if I did?”
“The child survived. I merely wish to know your side of the story.”
The griffin sat down, and the tufted tip of its tail twitched. “I didn’t know the foolish thing was magical until it persuaded me to let it go! Fortunately, I dropped it from high altitude and was able to catch it before it hit the rocks. I apologized and took it to Arabella because she was nearby.”
“Where did you first find the child?”
“In a high meadow near Grim’s Peak. The humans looked ordinary enough. It was an honest mistake.” The griffin studied Ellie briefly. “You were that child,” it said. “I recognize your magic. It is stronger now. And weaker. You don’t trust it.”
“Wh-why did you take me?” Ellie asked.
The griffin’s ears flattened against his feathered head. “Human girls make good servants. In my homeland, every nesting couple keeps one in the den to clean and to watch over the young.” He snarled a strange combination of an eagle’s scream and a lion’s roar. “It’s not as if we kill and eat them.”
Ellie felt a weight lift from her heart. “I am glad to know that you didn’t intend to kill me,” she said.
Vlad’s tail lashed from side to side. “Kill you? I went to the trouble of catching you again after you blasted me with magic and made me drop you, even though I knew I could not take you home with me. And I left you with Arabella, the best place for any human child that could force me to drop it.”
“Why did you not explain to Arabella?”
Vlad preened a few chest feathers. “I figured you would tell her. I had to go in search of a more suitable candidate. My mate was near her time.” His feathered shoulders shrugged.
“I hope your family is well,” Ellie said.
The griffin shrugged. “That clutch is grown now and spread across the continent, but they all four send us messages occasionally.”
“What became of the replacement servant girl?” Ellie asked in some concern.
“She was free to go once our brood had flown. Being a sturdy creature, she walked down the mountain with a satchel full of gold and found her way home, none the worse and much the richer for the experience.”
Ellie decided not to comment on the girl’s lost months with her family and the worry caused to all concerned. Instead, she looked at the Gamekeeper. “Did you know about the slave girl?”
“I did not.”
The griffin’s neck feathers fluffed out. “Human girls always tend young griffins. It is a time-honored tradition and beneficial to all concerned. We pay generously.”
“I should defend the tradition myself if only the girls chose to accept the position,” Ellie said. “To steal them away is inexcusable. Why not ask for volunteers? I should think the Gamekeeper could help you locate promising candidates.”
Vlad growled softly. “It is our business, not his. Bad enough that he owns a key to our home.”
“You chose the den with full knowledge that it lay partly inside my domain,” the Gamekeeper said in his quiet yet emphatic way, and the griffin lowered himself into a crouch.
“It is the Gamekeeper’s business to protect magical creatures from humans and humans from magical creatures,” Ellie said in her best persuasive tone.
“Only those within his borders. But I’ll think on it. Not because you’re using your magic on me, mind you, human!”
“My name is Ellie,” she said. “Can you tell me anything about my family?”
Vlad’s yellow eyes fixed on her. “I seem to recall several humans standing near a vehicle, a few seated on the ground on a piece of cloth, and smaller ones running about. I snatched the small female.” He looked Ellie up and down. “You are large now.”
“That was eleven years ago,” Ellie said sadly. “And I remember nothing about my family.” Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to give in to a wave of sorrow.
For the first time, the griffin looked slightly regretful. “I was unaware that humans cared about family, there are so many swarming about. But perhaps they can recognize differences among themselves.”
“We do.” Ellie swallowed hard before adding in a slightly choked voice, “And we love our families very much.”
“Then I hope you find yours,” Vlad said in a magnanimous tone. He gave the Gamekeeper a look. “Will you please leave now? I am already late. Mirka would be furious to learn that you have been inside our cave.”
“We shall leave,” the Gamekeeper said. “Thank you for your time, and best wishes to you and Mirka.”
“Goodbye, Vlad,” Ellie said, trying to sound gracious. “Thank you for taking me to Arabella.”
“You are welcome,” the griffin said in an almost genial tone. “Farewell, enchanters.”
When they turned, Ellie again felt the tug, and stepped with the Gamekeeper into the meadow near the cinder-sprite enclosure. Curious, she turned around in time to see a vertical black rectangle narrow into a line then disappear, as if an invisible door into darkness had closed.
“This is all so very strange,” she said, blinking hard. “I am not sure I will remember it fully once I leave here.”
“You will remember everything that matters,” the Gamekeeper said, and led her back down the slope. “We have another important errand today.”
“Very well.” Ellie was unable to keep her voice from quivering.
“This one will not frighten you.” He sounded slightly amused.
As they returned to the castle, Ellie pondered that strange meeting and realized the most important fact she had learned. “I have a family. The griffin stole me from my family. I thought I was abandoned, but all this time they may have been looking for me, missing me!” She looked up at the Gamekeeper’s hooded head. “Why couldn’t they find me? Did the griffin carry me so very far away?”
“Grim’s Peak is not far from here,” her strange companion answered quietly. “Arabella is difficult to find unless she wishes to be found.”
They entered the castle through the great outer doors and climbed the staircase, turning left at the landing. “Wait!” Ellie stopped short on a stair. “This staircase! It reminds me of something.” Her heart pounded. “I remember dancing on the floor of a large house with a staircase that went straight up toward a wall with a crest on it, then branched off toward the two sides, leading to long open galleries filled with paintings and artwork.” She ran her hand over the smooth railing and stared at it without seeing. “I was a very good dancer!” she added in some surprise. “I never knew I could dance. Perhaps I was a performer?”
“Do you recall any faces or voices?”
She racked her brain, but it stubbornly went blank. “No. But now I really want to try dancing again!” She thought of the Summer Ball with a twinge of regret.
“I believe you should.”
Without another word, the Gamekeeper continued up the stairs and led Ellie into a suite of rooms far finer than her guestroom. There he opened an enormous wardrobe to reveal gowns of every imaginable color and style, layer upon layer of them.
Ellie realized vaguely that there were too many gowns for the size of the wardrobe but set aside that thought for another time. For the Gamekeeper drew out a violet gown made of some shimmery substance she could not identify and said, “You may wear this to the Summer Ball, if you so choose.” He hung the gown on the wardrobe door, then handed Ellie a matching creation of feathers and sparkling stones—an elaborate feathered domino.
She stared at the mask, then at the gown, then at the Gamekeeper. “But how can I attend the ball? Even with a gown, I am only a staff member, not a guest.”
“Not one of Faraway Castle’s workers is ‘only’ a staff member, Miss Calmer. You are a gifted enchantress in the truest sense of the word, you are a woman who understands how to love unselfishly, and you are a lady from your heart outward. No amount of royal blood could make you worthier to attend this ball than you already are. Your prince Omar understands this as few people do.”
Ellie gaped in awe at these declarations spoken in a regal voice so different from the Gamekeeper’s usual quiet tones. “But Omar . . . My position . . .”
“Neither you nor the prince will suffer from your attendance at this ball. Take courage, Miss Calmer. Do this for Omar’s sake.”
Ellie felt courage rise in her breast, and with a lift of her chin and a squaring of her shoulders, she stated, “I shall attend the Summer Ball, and I shall dance with Prince Omar!”
Afterward she could never clearly recall the period immediately following her declaration, but she knew that the Gamekeeper had vanished again. His servants dressed her in the fabulous gown and domino, along with glittering jewelry and white gloves. The one thing she did not allow was an ornate hairstyle; she felt far more comfortable in her usual simple ponytail, dressed up with a few flowers.
After a wondering stare at her reflection in a tall mirror—even with the ponytail she looked like a stranger—Ellie walked down the castle’s front steps to behold a wondrous golden coach hitched to six unicorns, which nodded graciously to her and communicated that they had volunteered for the honor of drawing it and were delighted to be chosen. The Gamekeeper had designed the coach for the occasion, she learned.
“Out of a pumpkin,” an actual voice said, interrupting the unicorns. “It was the shape he needed and near at hand. Try not to let your gown touch the inner walls or it might stain.” Ellie felt a chill down her spine at the laugh following this disclosure. One of the pookas, now in more-or-less human form, sat on the driver’s seat with the reins in one distorted hand, his yellow eyes aglow, his large buck teeth gleaming in a wide grin.
“Indeed! How very . . . creative.” Ellie tried to return the creature’s disturbing smile and was profoundly relieved when the unicorn she recognized as Ulrica’s mate spoke clearly into her mind: “Never fear, Ellie Calmer. We unicorns will deliver you directly to the ball no matter what tricks the pooka might attempt.”
Hearing a muffled squeak, Ellie glanced at a coach lamp, then stared around in dismay. Inside each lamp glowed a flaming ball with bright red eyes. Had these cinder sprites been frightened or enraged to the point of going ember? The idea disturbed her deeply. But Ulrica’s mate, Ucal, as he introduced himself, assured her: “The sprites are delighted to provide your lighting, my lady. Nothing but excitement fuels their glow, and they will not burn out. On this blessed day you are a great lady in the eyes of all magical creatures, for you rescued my wife and son.”
Invisible hands opened the coach door, and Ellie stepped forward as if in a dream. Just as she lifted her skirts to climb inside, the Gamekeeper spoke at her elbow, giving her an inward jar. But she stepped back with composure and smiled, gradually processing his words: “I have one more gift for you, Miss Calmer.”
He didn’t seem to notice the slight pause between his words and her glance downward at the object in his hand. Objects, for it was a pair of shoes. “Glass dancing slippers? Did you make those for me?”
“They are exactly like your work shoes in size and durability,” he said quietly.
Ellie leaned against the coach doorway, pulled off her clunky work shoes, and slipped on the tempered-glass dancing shoes. Invisible hands picked up the old shoes and placed them in her pack, then stowed the pack in a bin behind the driver’s seat, but Ellie scarcely noticed.
She paced back and forth beside the coach. “They are comfortable as well as beautiful.” When she lifted her skirts to peer at her feet, the faceted-glass slippers sparkled. “Thank you for everything, my kind friend, and especially for the shoes. They even make my feet look small! Your magic never fails to amaze me.”
The tears in her eyes made him seem more shadowy than ever. Nothing she could say or do would ever repay his generosity and goodness.
He spoke as if reading her thoughts, his voice quiet yet profoundly deep: “I ask only that you allow nothing to destroy your joy tonight, Miss Calmer.”
Ellie nodded, lips quivering, her heart too full even for a smile.
Then she climbed into the coach, waved out the window, and called, “Thank you, everyone!” then settled back on the cushioned seat. The interior walls of the coach were similar in hue to a squash, but she detected neither moisture nor vegetable scent, no matter what the pooka said.
The coach seemed to float over the road without a bump or jolt. Aside from the rush of wind and an occasional happy squeak or chortle from a sprite, the journey was uncannily quiet. By the time Ellie thought to peer out the windows, she saw nothing but trees flashing past, with occasional open views of mountainous terrain beneath a colorful sunset sky. Recalling that unicorns pulled the coach, Ellie put all worries about time out of her head and leaned back, resting her eyes. The feathered domino made it difficult to see much anyway.
What would Omar think when she entered the ballroom? Would he recognize her?
“We are nearly to the castle, my lady,” the pooka called to her. “Where would you like to be dropped off? In the lake?”
She heard a chorus of protests from the unicorns, and Ucal’s assurance rose above the rest. “Don’t mind him. We have orders to deliver you to the door of Faraway Castle. Your friends Sparki and Frosti will direct us there.”
“Thank you, all of you,” Ellie said aloud. She hadn’t recognized her sprite friends in their ember form.
The castle glittered with paper lanterns, spotlights, and tiny white lights strung around pillars, doors, and windows. Several fine automobiles and limousines waited in a queue, yet somehow there was room for Ellie’s coach directly before the main doors. A liveried footman opened her coach door, pulled out the step, and offered his gloved hand. “My lady,” he said politely.
Ellie restrained a smile, recognizing her old friend Ben Weatherby, one of the groundskeepers. She laid her gloved hand in his and stepped gracefully from the coach. His eyes widened at the sight of her, but he did not return her friendly smile. “My lady,” he breathed in wonder.
Before he could escort her inside, she turned back to thank the magical creatures—only to realize with a start that a glamour now disguised them even from her eyes. Lightbulbs burned in the coach lamps, a man in a gray wig and sharp livery sat on the box (he winked at her), and six fine coach horses tossed their heads. But then two of the side lamps blinked, and one of the horses turned its head to look directly at her. She heard cinder sprites squeak and puff along with Ucal’s gentle farewell: “Our love and blessing to you, Miss Cinder Ellie.”
“I love you too,” she whispered. The coachman lifted the reins, and the coach pulled away with a great clatter of horse hooves on the brick drive. It moved into the shadows and was gone.
Along with her backpack.