Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(11)

Instead of breakfasting with her friends, she snatched a few hard-boiled eggs and a banana in the kitchen and ate quickly. Sira tapped on her knee. “This morning a coffee cake rose unevenly, so we gave it to Geraldo, and now all the hobgoblins are fighting over it out on the back porch.”

Ellie chuckled. “Then they’re happy. Since I’m on lake duty I won’t be around the castle much this week, but I’ll be praying for showers of cake crumbs.”

Brownies look mournful even when blissfully happy, but now Sira looked deeply concerned as well. Ellie quickly amended: “I mean, I hope Geraldo behaves himself. I don’t really want it to rain cake . . . Never mind.”

Sira blinked her melancholy eyes and said, “Yes, Miss Ellie.” And Ellie headed back to her cottage to change into swim gear, berating herself. Why did she so often forget that brownies take everything literally? Poor little Sira!

All that day she patrolled the sparkling mountain lake on her scooter, enjoying the beauty, keeping watch for the lake monster, and handing out a few warnings. After her quick lunch break, she picked up a water-skier who refused to climb back into the ski boat.

Ellie recognized this unfortunate little skier, a princess from Nsukka, as a friend of Rafiq and Yasmine. Three other children in the boat, probably her brothers, shouted orders and suggestions at the girl in the water, who kept trying to swim away.

The boat’s driver, who also shared the young girl’s black skin and nearly perfect features, must be an older sister. She too shouted at the swimmer, not unkindly, but frustration laced her voice.

Ellie sensed the little princess’s embarrassment, exhaustion, and reluctance to rejoin her companions after repeated failures to remain upright on her skis for more than a few seconds. She moved her scooter in close. “Would you like to ride back to shore with me?” she asked, infusing her voice with optimism.

The girl nodded and stopped paddling. “Yes, please,” she said, her eyes imploring.

After hauling the exhausted princess up behind her on the scooter, Ellie shouted to the others in the boat, “Don’t worry, I’ll take her safely back to shore.”

“Thanks!” called the sister, then maneuvered the boat around to pick up the abandoned skis. Moments later, the ski boat roared off.

Ellie felt the child’s shuddering sobs at her back. Over the past few years she had learned that words didn’t matter as much as her tone when it came to rebuilding confidence, even in a human. “So now it’s just you and me and the fish,” she said. “What is your name, Your Highness?”

“Aisosa.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Princess Aisosa. How old are you?”

“I will be twelve in October.”

“I was twelve when I first came here to work. Don’t let anyone fool you—it takes time and practice to develop balance and strength enough to ski well, and none of those kids learned in a day.”

“My sister stood up on her first try,” Aisosa grumbled.

“Well, good for her. I sure didn’t! It took me two summers of practice before I could stay up for more than a minute. Anyway, I bet you’re good at other sports. You look like a runner.”

She felt the girl nod against her life jacket. “I do like to run fast,” she said. “I like the lake best from inside a boat.”

Ellie grinned. “I hope you like my scooter too. It’s pretty fun. Want to see what it can do?”

“We won’t tip over?”

“Nope. I’ll be careful. Hold on to my waist and nod when you’re ready, okay?”

As soon as Aisosa nodded, Ellie gunned her scooter. “Let’s go!” She took the girl for a gentle ride, performing a few loops and figure eights, all the while charming her passenger back into happiness. She was forbidden to use magic on guests, but no matter how she struggled to control it, traces of enchantment frequently slipped into her voice.

As they skimmed past the island, an exotic paradise set in the middle of the mountain lake, Aisosa asked, “Is it true that sirens live there?”

Ellie grinned. She could see two mermaids perched on a flat rock, one combing her long red hair, the other arranging her iridescent tail, but she didn’t say so. Sirens remained invisible to unmagical humans unless they deliberately spoke to one, and they called only men. “Yes, they are the reason men and boys are not allowed to drive boats at this end of the lake, and we discourage men from boating at all,” she explained over her shoulder. “Guests frequently ignore the warnings, however. Guys hear the rumors and just have to try their luck.”

“What do the sirens do?” The girl sounded skeptical.

“When a siren sings to a young man, he believes her voice the most beautiful sound he has ever heard and will do anything to go to her. Sometimes the siren will let him see her, which makes him even more obsessed with her beauty. And then she sends a wave or whirlpool to wreck his boat, leaves him in the water, and laughs.”

“That’s terrible! Do sirens ever hurt the boys here?” Aisosa asked.

“None of our guests have drowned or even been injured. The sirens aren’t allowed to touch them. And there’s a bright side: We get several new boats every summer!”

“Why doesn’t the resort director send them away?” Aisosa asked. “They don’t sound at all nice.”