Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(44)

She nodded, feeling grateful and somehow relieved.





After dinner that evening, Ellie visited the unicorns at the maternity barn. The mother unicorn, whose name, Miria told her, was Ulrica, was genuinely pleased to see her. Ellie held a strange one-sided-yet-not conversation with Ulrica. Each time she spoke to the creature, Ellie understood her better. Whether this was the unicorn’s magic or her own, she wasn’t sure. Ulrica clearly asked if she was certain the Gamekeeper did not prey on unicorns and other magical creatures. Ellie, while stroking baby Ulfr’s fluffy mane, assured his mother that the Gamekeeper kept cinder sprites, imps, and unicorns safe at his hidden home, along with other, stranger creatures. For so she had heard from reliable sources.

Not until she was walking home did doubt begin to plague her mind. She had never seen this reserve for magical beasts. Was it real? Or . . . what if all this time she had been sending innocent creatures to feed a monster’s appetite? But then, the elder sprite had trusted him, and the dwarfs and brownies did as well. These misgivings only ever troubled her when he was not around.

And then, to top off this troubling day, a shadowy figure waited outside her cottage door. “Who is there?” she asked sharply, sensing waves of animosity and a hint of magic.

“Where have you been?” a voice inquired, frightening in its way but a relief nonetheless.

“Good evening, Madame Genevieve. Welcome back. I assume you must know about the unicorns,” Ellie said quietly. “I was visiting them.”

After a pause, the director said bluntly, “You are aware that staff members may not attend resort dances.”

“I am well aware, Madame. Is . . . is anything wrong?”

“Many things are wrong,” the woman snapped. “Do not add to the injustice and chaos by presuming on the fleeting interest of a foolish young prince. Remember your place.”

She walked past Ellie toward the castle, a stiffly upright and strangely pathetic figure.

Ellie unlocked her door with a wave of her hand, closed it behind her, and leaned against it, breathing hard to repress fear, anger, and intense sorrow. Hearing welcoming squeaks from her bedroom, she hurried there and spent the next hour seated on her bed, watching greens disappear into puckered little mouths and enjoying the company of two furry and uncomplicated companions.



Out on the lake again the next afternoon, Ellie sent her scooter bumping over choppy waves, relishing the cleansing wind and cold spray in her face. Ahead and to her right, she glimpsed spiny loops above the surface. Grinning, she slowed and shouted, “Ahoy there, my serpentine friend. Are you racing with me?”

A familiar weedy head appeared, showing its array of dagger teeth. The serpent made a strange sound, rather like a croupy cough, and its head, followed by yards of thick body, rose high above the waves then arced toward Ellie, passing over her head then down into the lake. Water poured over her as the serpent’s entire length passed overhead, but she merely laughed and turned in a small circle within the arch, making her own whirlpool.

“Showoff,” she shouted.

As the last of the serpent disappeared, the end of its tail wagged briefly. Ellie waved back, suspecting the monster watched her from underwater. Then she drove on. Who would have imagined that such a nightmare-looking creature would enjoy playing games?

A short time later she recognized Omar’s friend Tor standing alone on the shore, apparently watching a family of ducks. She let her scooter drift in close and called, “Hello, Lord Magnussen. Are you feeling well?”

She saw her reflection in his sunglasses. His face was expressionless.

“Why would I not feel well? Do I know you?”

Ellie sensed a tangle of frustration and animosity in the man, though his emotions seemed general, not aimed at her.

There was no reason not to tell him. “I’m the lifeguard who pulled you off the island the other day,” she said. She did back her scooter off slightly. He was very tall and built like a swimmer. There was no sense in taking chances.

“I see.” His tone was flat. “What was I doing there?” He sounded cynical.

Ellie spoke without thinking first. “You were standing in the lagoon, talking with a siren.”

He didn’t move, but she sensed a change. He was suddenly alert, focused, though still sarcastic. “I was talking with a siren? I thought sirens only lured men to ruin then spurned them.”

He was some distance away from her, yet as she listened to his voice and studied his face, she sensed a spell on him of a kind she had never seen before. “Not that siren,” Ellie said. “She seemed devastated when I took you away.”

There was no magic in her voice, yet her words paralyzed the man. After a long silence, he turned back to the ducks and said no more.

Ellie drove away, wondering if she really knew much about sirens. Or men.

At dinner that evening, she sat with her friends, but her thoughts were far away. Every time she’d glimpsed Omar in the past few days, he’d been in the company of a different girl, playing what seemed to Ellie like every sport or game the resort offered. The man was in perpetual motion from sunrise to sunset, and she was sure he had worked hard to avoid catching her eye.

“Ellie’s not listening anymore,” Savannah said with a sigh.

“She never does.” Kerry Jo picked up her tray. “All she thinks about is her cutie-pie prince.”