Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(3)
She spent the next several minutes chasing down and capturing three more baby sprites and putting out small fires. One baby never did ignite, which made things easier. The children romped around, eager to help her find the terrified babies and fascinated to see how the cages grew to fit each furry inmate. Ellie used a second spray potion to clear the air and to repair the burned rug, a scorched chair leg, and a blistered shoe.
By the time the last creature was caged and the mess cleaned up, she was sweating and sooty but satisfied. She now knew the older three children by name: Princes Rafiq and Karim, ages twelve and five, and Princess Yasmine, age eight. She had seen them all around the castle many times over the years, watching them grow up without ever actually meeting them. They talked nonstop, usually all at once, which made communication a challenge, but she managed to calm them slightly and have brief conversation with each one individually. All four children captured her heart with their gorgeous dark eyes and brilliant smiles.
So very like their older brother Omar’s.
But then, Ellie had long ago lost her heart to that brother, so this conquest was no surprise. If only he had come to the resort this summer! His family usually spent four weeks every June and July in this very suite to escape the summer heat of their homeland, but this year all five older children were occupied elsewhere. The heir to the throne was married, as was the eldest daughter, and the second son was recently betrothed, she knew from gossip.
But as far as she knew, Prince Omar was still unattached, and Ellie could never stop hoping that one of these summers . . . She had frequently met his steady gaze or encountered him in doorways, where he always politely opened the door for her and spoke a bashful word or two of greeting. Sometimes she even wondered if he might wish to become acquainted with her.
But this idea was completely ridiculous, for a prince must marry nobility or royalty; in many countries, royal children were betrothed at birth. Every summer she had seen Omar in the company of some beautiful princess or lady, though never the same one two years running and never with any evidence of romantic attachment. But his freedom couldn’t last forever. For all Ellie knew, he was spending this holiday with his future wife’s family in a distant country.
The temptation was strong to quiz these children about Omar, but she refused to use them in such a way. Glancing around, she noticed a distinct lack. “Where is your nanny?” she asked, pushing loose hair from her face. Her ponytail never seemed to last through a sprite hunt.
Yasmine went wide-eyed, but Rafiq brushed off the question. “We don’t need her. I am old enough to watch over the little ones now.”
“Are you?” Ellie wondered about this. But she also knew that Madame Genevieve, the resort director, would never allow her magic-creature wrangler to fill in as a nanny, not even for royal guests. “I would feel more confident about your responsibility, Rafiq, if I didn’t know that you helped bring these cinder sprites into your rooms,” she said, giving him a level look.
He frowned and looked away, then shrugged and gave her a charming grin. “We won’t do it again. How could we know they would light themselves on fire? Do they always do that?”
Ellie restrained a frustrated sigh. Guests were always warned about possible hazards, including sprites, but few seemed to pay attention.
“Only when they are frightened or angry,” she told him. “But they are easily frightened, and some have hot tempers.”
Rafiq and Yasmine chuckled. Rita kept a vigilant eye on her melted sprite, which was beginning to quiver in its cage. “Will he be all right?” she asked once more.
“He will be back to normal within the hour,” Ellie assured her. “And hungry, so I’d better get him back to my cottage where I keep sprite snacks.” She gave the little girl a wink. Rita lifted her arms, and Ellie caught her up for a big hug. Then Karim wanted a hug, and even Yasmine waited in line. Only Rafiq held out, considering himself far too old for such things.
Rafiq and Yasmine helped carry the cages and her pack to the door while the little ones bounced along behind. Just as Ellie’s hand touched the crystal doorknob, Karim whispered something to Yasmine, who hushed him with a guilty glance at Ellie.
Her suspicion rising, Ellie turned back to ask direct questions. Even as she opened her mouth, a disturbing sound reached her ears. “Wait! Do you hear that?”
“What?” the children all asked.
Ellie put a finger to her lips and heard it again—the unmistakable squeak of a cinder sprite in distress. The mother sprite heard it too and answered with sharp whistles.
“Where is it coming from? Is there another baby sprite in the suite?” Ellie snatched an empty cage and the spray bottle from her pack then stepped slowly along the passage with her head tilted to better judge direction. “How many sprites did you catch?”
The older children shrugged. “There were a whole bunch of them,” Karim said, trying to be helpful.
Ellie pinpointed the sound: It came from behind a closed door on her left. Even as she paused to make certain, there came one last plaintive squeal followed by the distinctive whoomp of a sprite going ember. She flung open the door and rushed into a chamber so dark that she immediately spotted the orange glow of the baby sprite, which took one look at her and ran, igniting a swath of dangling fabric as it disappeared beneath a large piece of furniture.
With one flying leap, Ellie caught up the cloth and beat out the flame with her gloved hands, then sprawled on the floor and shoved herself under what seemed to be a bed. In the pulsing glow of the sprite she saw a stray sock and a pair of men’s bedroom slippers. The baby sprite cowered against the wall, well out of her reach, igniting unlucky dust bunnies with bright little flares.