Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(36)

“He doesn’t like humans much,” Howurl said in a tone of deep woe.

“We will take all the help we can get,” Ellie replied, brightening. “Can this person be ready quickly? We need to head out as soon as Omar arrives.”

“I’ll take you to him,” Miria volunteered. After tying off the pink ribbon she had woven into the new mother’s mane, she touched the mare’s neck and gave a command Ellie couldn’t understand. The horse immediately lowered her head, and Miria walked down her neck and jumped into a mound of straw. “Thank you, Bertinette.” With her tiny hand she patted the mare’s cheek.

Ellie had always marveled at the glimpses she caught of the brownies’ abilities and language. These two did wonders in the stables, and the horses obviously loved them. Why brownies so enjoyed caring for the houses, beasts, and possessions inside almost any structure built by humans was beyond her understanding, but she felt increasingly grateful with each passing year.

Just as Ellie and Miria approached the open barn door, Omar entered, clad in practical clothing and boots, carrying a backpack, and looking stressed. “I had a hard time sneaking off,” he said. “I think my parents have asked people to keep a watch on me. I’ve been checking my tail frequently on my way here and took a roundabout route, so I think I’m clear.” He gave a little start, staring down at Miria. “Hello. I beg your pardon. I didn’t notice you at first.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped. “You can see her? A brownie?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Yes. It’s been . . . an adjustment.”

“When did you start seeing them?” She had her suspicions.

He raised his brows and looked uncertain. “I think I was too distracted by other things to notice at first, but . . . yesterday?”

A mermaid had spoken to him at the island, Ellie was certain. As she thought of that beautiful creature she’d seen talking with Tor, her fingers curled into claws.

“I can also sort of sense when magic is being used, though I can’t explain how I know,” Omar continued. “I’m trying hard to pretend I don’t see the brownies and things when other humans are around, but I feel rude.”

“They understand,” Ellie assured him. “This is Miria.”

Omar bowed politely. “I am pleased to meet you, Miria.”

The little brownie curtsied. “Your Highness,” she said.

Howurl scrambled over the stall door, gave Omar a doleful look, and said, “I will check to see if you were followed. We will all help you protect the unicorn.”

Before Omar could respond, he was gone.

“That was Howurl, Miria’s husband,” Ellie said. “From him, that was a long speech!”

Omar nodded, but a slight wrinkle between his brows revealed his uneasiness. “I’m glad to have his help, but what do we do first?” he asked.

Ellie briefly explained the plan to Omar, who nodded and turned to Miria. “Right. If you will lead the way, we’ll follow.”

Once she adjusted to the idea, Omar’s new ability delighted Ellie, who felt as if he’d suddenly taken steps into her world. More than anything she wanted to pick his brain about what all he had seen and sensed, but that conversation must wait for a better time. Maybe never, since she was supposed to be keeping out of his way . . .

After Ellie collected her backpack, Miria led them into the forest by a nearly invisible trail, then told them to wait while she slipped into a copse of young trees. Omar sat on a fallen log and patted the spot next to him. “Might as well rest your feet while you can.”

Rather than hurt his feelings, Ellie sat beside him and lowered her pack to the ground. “So you had a long day?”

There was no smile in his eyes when he looked at her. “The longest. But it is better now.”

She looked away, stifling a sigh. “Good. I worked in a greenhouse all day.” She wanted to bring up the topic of sirens, but this wasn’t the time. Besides, even if he’d spoken with one, she hadn’t enthralled him.

Facts notwithstanding, she wanted to run down to the lake and order a certain mermaid to put some decent clothes on—a gunny sack would be ideal—and keep her hooks out of Ellie’s man.

If only he really were her man. If only she could lean her head against his shoulder for a moment or two . . .

“What’s wrong, Ellie?” Omar asked, the lines between his brows deeper than ever. “You look so unhappy.”

Miria reappeared soundlessly. She was not quite a foot high, yet beside her stood a quite hideous yellow-and-brown person no higher than her knee. “This is Tob the toadstool fairy. He knows where the unicorn is hiding and why. He cannot speak human, but he understands your speech if you speak slowly.”

“Hello, Tob,” both Ellie and Omar greeted him.

The fairy nodded coldly, looking only at Omar through narrowed eyes.

“He says he is doing this for the unicorn’s sake. Your Highness, if you will let him ride on your shoulder, he will direct you to her.” She spoke to Omar, her expression grave. “Toadstool fairies do not appreciate humor or laughter.” Coming from Miria, the words were a stark warning. “And Tob disapproves of human magic, which you have a great deal of, Miss Ellie. Once he has taken you to the unicorn, he will vanish.”

“We understand,” Omar responded. “And we are deeply grateful for Tob’s assistance.”