Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(48)
Until she noticed, with some annoyance, that fingers were plucking at her sleeves. The servants! Curiosity turned her around to see . . . nothing. Sprite cages wafted across the courtyard, and her backpack floated up the stairs and through the open doorway.
She heaved a little sigh. Invisible and inaudible, no doubt. But perhaps she could sense their thoughts or emotions if she focused hard enough. Obeying the direction of those plucking hands, she followed her pack up the steps and into a hall so resplendent with gold, carvings, moldings, and works of art that her mind simply blended it all into one word: magnificent. The escort servants—she thought there were two, both female—led her through equally magnificent hallways and drawing rooms on the way to a much smaller yet comfortably luxurious suite of rooms, including a private bath with running water, hot and cold, and a huge canopied bed.
Bemused and tired, Ellie submitted to her invisible helpers with gratitude and fascination, even allowing them to undress and bathe her, wash and arrange her hair, and dress her in lace-and-silk undergarments and a lavender-scented morning gown in the style of a previous century. She spoke to them occasionally but mostly soaked in the luxury of being pampered like a princess. What manner of creature was the Gamekeeper, she wondered, that he would dwell in such a castle?
But she was reluctant to explore possibilities lest they disturb her enjoyment of the moment. After all, he had done nothing to deserve distrust and everything to earn her respect. She slept on the bed for what seemed like hours but could not have been long, for the clock on the mantel chimed noon just as the door opened and her servants returned.
Ellie slipped on her glass shoes, which seemed clunky with her frilly gown, and followed her attendants downstairs to a hall in which a great table had been set for luncheon. The Gamekeeper waited for her, standing behind a chair at the table’s far end. “You may choose any seat,” he said quietly. Since no other guests were in view, Ellie walked along the table and pulled out a chair a few settings away from him. She no longer feared her supervisor, yet she was more comfortable with some space between them.
Ellie did justice to the meal, talking all the while about her room and the servants and her impressions of the castle. The Gamekeeper asked leading questions, and she found herself telling more about her life at Faraway Castle, including her questions about Rosa’s secret ways, the director’s attitudes, and Briar’s confusing behavior. Afterward she could not recall whether the Gamekeeper had eaten anything.
Strange, how she felt so alive yet so immersed in unreality!
When she laid her fork on her plate and declared herself stuffed, the Gamekeeper said in his quiet way, “Would you like to see where your cinder sprites live?”
“Yes, very much!” A servant pulled out her chair as she rose, and her host politely offered his arm. She hesitated only an instant before laying her hand on his sleeve. “Thank you.” He now wore a cloak of deep blue velvet edged in ermine, and his large feet were clad in equally fine boots.
They passed through an outer door into the fresh summer day, then across a courtyard, past an ornate fountain, and into an outbuilding. “The sprites have indoor shelter as well as open land, but their habitat is entirely fenced to keep out predators. They do not multiply as rapidly as non-magical beasts of their size do, since they are sentient and mate for life. Most females birth only one or two litters.”
Ellie gazed in wonder at the low yet extensive shelters inhabited by dozens, even hundreds, of chirping, puffing, squeaking sprites. “Did all of these sprites come from Faraway Castle?”
“Most of them. A few traveled here and requested to be allowed in to join their families.”
“Do any ever wish to leave?”
“Not so far. Perhaps, in time, a new generation will wish to see more of the world. I will not keep them captive.”
Several of the little creatures looked familiar to Ellie, including the mother and family she had captured in Omar’s room. With them she saw a large male who’d arrived with them that day. The family was happily united.
“All structures are flame-proof,” the Gamekeeper continued, “and their enclosure is well watered in all seasons. Occasionally one will become angry or panic and burst into flame, but their relative safety and commodious accommodations limit such events.”
“They seem happy,” Ellie said, sensing waves of tiny emotion throughout the enclosure. “I wonder if any of them remember me.”
“Two of them do.” The Gamekeeper pointed with a long finger (claw?) at the ground near her feet. Two cinder sprites sat nearly upright, their front paws pressed against the tempered-glass wall of their enclosure. Their working mouths, bobbing horns, and twitching ears indicated squeaks that had been lost in the clamor of the busy colony. Only now did Ellie distinguish their little voices.
“Sparki and Frosti,” she cried in delight, and knelt to touch the glass opposite their paws. “My special babies.” Two other sprites approached, one solid black with messy-looking fur and horns like spirals of obsidian, the other solid brown with a whorl of white on his forehead, sleek fur, and bronze-colored horns. They strutted and posed, much like teenaged boys, and her two girls evidently liked them. Ellie looked up at the Gamekeeper in surprise. “The girls are so young! Do they have boyfriends already? After one morning?”
She sensed his amusement. “They are old enough to choose mates. These two are not only the youngest daughters of Royal Elder Sprite Starfire and his mate, Dusk, but also enjoy the distinction of being named. Cinder sprites do not name themselves. It sets them apart. Yet these two males are confident enough to enjoy having celebrity mates.”