Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle Book 1) Page 16

  “We do.” Ellie swallowed hard before adding in a slightly choked voice, “And we love our families very much.”

  “Then I hope you find yours,” Vlad said in a magnanimous tone. He gave the Gamekeeper a look. “Will you please leave now? I am already late. Mirka would be furious to learn that you have been inside our cave.”

  “We shall leave,” the Gamekeeper said. “Thank you for your time, and best wishes to you and Mirka.”

  “Goodbye, Vlad,” Ellie said, trying to sound gracious. “Thank you for taking me to Arabella.”

  “You are welcome,” the griffin said in an almost genial tone. “Farewell, enchanters.”

  When they turned, Ellie again felt the tug, and stepped with the Gamekeeper into the meadow near the cinder-sprite enclosure. Curious, she turned around in time to see a vertical black rectangle narrow into a line then disappear, as if an invisible door into darkness had closed.

  “This is all so very strange,” she said, blinking hard. “I am not sure I will remember it fully once I leave here.”

  “You will remember everything that matters,” the Gamekeeper said, and led her back down the slope. “We have another important errand today.”

  “Very well.” Ellie was unable to keep her voice from quivering.

  “This one will not frighten you.” He sounded slightly amused.

  As they returned to the castle, Ellie pondered that strange meeting and realized the most important fact she had learned. “I have a family. The griffin stole me from my family. I thought I was abandoned, but all this time they may have been looking for me, missing me!” She looked up at the Gamekeeper’s hooded head. “Why couldn’t they find me? Did the griffin carry me so very far away?”

  “Grim’s Peak is not far from here,” her strange companion answered quietly. “Arabella is difficult to find unless she wishes to be found.”

  They entered the castle through the great outer doors and climbed the staircase, turning left at the landing. “Wait!” Ellie stopped short on a stair. “This staircase! It reminds me of something.” Her heart pounded. “I remember dancing on the floor of a large house with a staircase that went straight up toward a wall with a crest on it, then branched off toward the two sides, leading to long open galleries filled with paintings and artwork.” She ran her hand over the smooth railing and stared at it without seeing. “I was a very good dancer!” she added in some surprise. “I never knew I could dance. Perhaps I was a performer?”

  “Do you recall any faces or voices?”

  She racked her brain, but it stubbornly went blank. “No. But now I really want to try dancing again!” She thought of the Summer Ball with a twinge of regret.

  “I believe you should.”

  Without another word, the Gamekeeper continued up the stairs and led Ellie into a suite of rooms far finer than her guestroom. There he opened an enormous wardrobe to reveal gowns of every imaginable color and style, layer upon layer of them.

  Ellie realized vaguely that there were too many gowns for the size of the wardrobe but set aside that thought for another time. For the Gamekeeper drew out a violet gown made of some shimmery substance she could not identify and said, “You may wear this to the Summer Ball, if you so choose.” He hung the gown on the wardrobe door, then handed Ellie a matching creation of feathers and sparkling stones—an elaborate feathered domino.

  She stared at the mask, then at the gown, then at the Gamekeeper. “But how can I attend the ball? Even with a gown, I am only a staff member, not a guest.”

  “Not one of Faraway Castle’s workers is ‘only’ a staff member, Miss Calmer. You are a gifted enchantress in the truest sense of the word, you are a woman who understands how to love unselfishly, and you are a lady from your heart outward. No amount of royal blood could make you worthier to attend this ball than you already are. Your prince Omar understands this as few people do.”

  Ellie gaped in awe at these declarations spoken in a regal voice so different from the Gamekeeper’s usual quiet tones. “But Omar . . . My position . . .”

  “Neither you nor the prince will suffer from your attendance at this ball. Take courage, Miss Calmer. Do this for Omar’s sake.”

  Ellie felt courage rise in her breast, and with a lift of her chin and a squaring of her shoulders, she stated, “I shall attend the Summer Ball, and I shall dance with Prince Omar!”

  Afterward she could never clearly recall the period immediately following her declaration, but she knew that the Gamekeeper had vanished again. His servants dressed her in the fabulous gown and domino, along with glittering jewelry and white gloves. The one thing she did not allow was an ornate hairstyle; she felt far more comfortable in her usual simple ponytail, dressed up with a few flowers.

  After a wondering stare at her reflection in a tall mirror—even with the ponytail she looked like a stranger—Ellie walked down the castle’s front steps to behold a wondrous golden coach hitched to six unicorns, which nodded graciously to her and communicated that they had volunteered for the honor of drawing it and were delighted to be chosen. The Gamekeeper had designed the coach for the occasion, she learned.

  “Out of a pumpkin,” an actual voice said, interrupting the unicorns. “It was the shape he needed and near at hand. Try not to let your gown touch the inner walls or it might stain.” Ellie felt a chill down her spine at the laugh following this disclosure. One of the pookas, now in more-or-less human form, sat on the driver’s seat with the reins in one distorted hand, his yellow eyes aglow, his large buck teeth gleaming in a wide grin.

  “Indeed! How very . . . creative.” Ellie tried to return the creature’s disturbing smile and was profoundly relieved when the unicorn she recognized as Ulrica’s mate spoke clearly into her mind: “Never fear, Ellie Calmer. We unicorns will deliver you directly to the ball no matter what tricks the pooka might attempt.”

  Hearing a muffled squeak, Ellie glanced at a coach lamp, then stared around in dismay. Inside each lamp glowed a flaming ball with bright red eyes. Had these cinder sprites been frightened or enraged to the point of going ember? The idea disturbed her deeply. But Ulrica’s mate, Ucal, as he introduced himself, assured her: “The sprites are delighted to provide your lighting, my lady. Nothing but excitement fuels their glow, and they will not burn out. On this blessed day you are a great lady in the eyes of all magical creatures, for you rescued my wife and son.”

  Invisible hands opened the coach door, and Ellie stepped forward as if in a dream. Just as she lifted her skirts to climb inside, the Gamekeeper spoke at her elbow, giving her an inward jar. But she stepped back with composure and smiled, gradually processing his words: “I have one more gift for you, Miss Calmer.”

  He didn’t seem to notice the slight pause between his words and her glance downward at the object in his hand. Objects, for it was a pair of shoes. “Glass dancing slippers? Did you make those for me?”

  “They are exactly like your work shoes in size and durability,” he said quietly.

  Ellie leaned against the coach doorway, pulled off her clunky work shoes, and slipped on the tempered-glass dancing shoes. Invisible hands picked up the old shoes and placed them in her pack, then stowed the pack in a bin behind the driver’s seat, but Ellie scarcely noticed.

  She paced back and forth beside the coach. “They are comfortable as well as beautiful.” When she lifted her skirts to peer at her feet, the faceted-glass slippers sparkled. “Thank you for everything, my kind friend, and especially for the shoes. They even make my feet look small! Your magic never fails to amaze me.”

  The tears in her eyes made him seem more shadowy than ever. Nothing she could say or do would ever repay his generosity and goodness.

  He spoke as if reading her thoughts, his voice quiet yet profoundly deep: “I ask only that you allow nothing to destroy your joy tonight, Miss Calmer.”

  Ellie nodded, lips quivering, her heart too full even for a smile.

  Then she climbed into the coach, waved out the window, and called, “Tha
nk you, everyone!” then settled back on the cushioned seat. The interior walls of the coach were similar in hue to a squash, but she detected neither moisture nor vegetable scent, no matter what the pooka said.

  The coach seemed to float over the road without a bump or jolt. Aside from the rush of wind and an occasional happy squeak or chortle from a sprite, the journey was uncannily quiet. By the time Ellie thought to peer out the windows, she saw nothing but trees flashing past, with occasional open views of mountainous terrain beneath a colorful sunset sky. Recalling that unicorns pulled the coach, Ellie put all worries about time out of her head and leaned back, resting her eyes. The feathered domino made it difficult to see much anyway.

  What would Omar think when she entered the ballroom? Would he recognize her?

  “We are nearly to the castle, my lady,” the pooka called to her. “Where would you like to be dropped off? In the lake?”

  She heard a chorus of protests from the unicorns, and Ucal’s assurance rose above the rest. “Don’t mind him. We have orders to deliver you to the door of Faraway Castle. Your friends Sparki and Frosti will direct us there.”

  “Thank you, all of you,” Ellie said aloud. She hadn’t recognized her sprite friends in their ember form.

  The castle glittered with paper lanterns, spotlights, and tiny white lights strung around pillars, doors, and windows. Several fine automobiles and limousines waited in a queue, yet somehow there was room for Ellie’s coach directly before the main doors. A liveried footman opened her coach door, pulled out the step, and offered his gloved hand. “My lady,” he said politely.

  Ellie restrained a smile, recognizing her old friend Ben Weatherby, one of the groundskeepers. She laid her gloved hand in his and stepped gracefully from the coach. His eyes widened at the sight of her, but he did not return her friendly smile. “My lady,” he breathed in wonder.

  Before he could escort her inside, she turned back to thank the magical creatures—only to realize with a start that a glamour now disguised them even from her eyes. Lightbulbs burned in the coach lamps, a man in a gray wig and sharp livery sat on the box (he winked at her), and six fine coach horses tossed their heads. But then two of the side lamps blinked, and one of the horses turned its head to look directly at her. She heard cinder sprites squeak and puff along with Ucal’s gentle farewell: “Our love and blessing to you, Miss Cinder Ellie.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered. The coachman lifted the reins, and the coach pulled away with a great clatter of horse hooves on the brick drive. It moved into the shadows and was gone.

  Along with her backpack.

  The inside of the castle was as transformed as its exterior, with lights twinkling everywhere. Ellie had often seen it decorated for dances and other special occasions, yet something about this night was different, and she didn’t believe the difference was only in her perception. Perhaps she had brought magic with her from the Gamekeeper’s house?

  Older guests congregated in the large seating area in the lobby, most of them beautifully dressed and the ladies glittering with jewels. A few wore masks, but most didn’t bother. A masquerade was for the young people. Small children and their hovering nannies dashed here and there, and staff members rushed about on errands. Ellie sensed curiosity and admiration from people she passed, and she wondered if they sensed the magic surrounding her as well.

  Tonight she could do anything, be anything. And more than anything else, she wished to dance with Prince Omar of Khenifra and be seen by others as his equal, not in rank but in value. Omar was a good dancer, she knew, having watched him furtively over the years at many events. Not a particularly inspired dancer, but expertly trained and graceful. Ellie had always considered herself his opposite, inspired but not trained. Now she knew better, and the knowledge fueled her excitement and anticipation.

  As she approached the ballroom, brownies darted past her feet. The guests could not see them and even overlooked the objects they carried, and the little creatures nimbly dodged feet and skirts without dropping a fork or a chocolate biscuit. Every one of them greeted Ellie by name, and not one seemed to notice her unusual appearance.

  Sira, carrying a stack of dirty plates, paused to address her, concern etched in her small brown forehead beneath a neat white cap. “Miss Ellie, Geraldo has sworn to steal a cake off the dessert table tonight, and he’s persuaded the other hobgoblins to help him. You know they will end up dumping it on the floor and allow children to take the blame!”

  Ellie couldn’t help smiling. The hobgoblins’ purpose in life seemed to include doubling the brownies’ workload. Yet Sira worried only about trouble for the human children.

  “I will try to keep an eye on him,” she said. “Everything looks amazing, Sira. Please share my appreciation with the other brownies.”

  Sira merely nodded before trotting away. “Enjoy yourself, Miss Ellie.” Her little voice trailed behind her.

  “Thank you, Sira.”

  A few guests watched Ellie talk to the floor, their faces revealing doubt of her sanity, yet not one said a word. She beamed a general smile at the spectators then picked up her skirts and hurried toward the ballroom door. Music floated into the hall, a modern love song. The live bands always played a variety of dance tunes to satisfy guests of all ages and nations.

  She paused in the doorway before entering. Often she had imagined entering this room as a guest, but never once had she believed her daydream could come true. Would it end in bliss or in nightmare?

  Music, conversation, and laughter filled the air, along with delectable scents from the buffet tables. The floor, polished to a mirror shine, reflected the gleaming chandeliers and strings of lights, resembling a starlit lake. Couples floated over the dance floor, their attire ranging from elegant ballgowns, modern cocktail dresses, and tuxedos to historical or national costumes. Everyone on the dance floor wore a mask of some kind, as did most of those on the outskirts. Ellie identified a few people yet thought it strange how even the simplest mask could transform a friend into a mysterious stranger. But she could delve behind the masks if she tried . . .

  The girl in green with strawberry-blonde curls had to be the Honorable Gillian, dancing with a young man with golden hair, who steered her effortlessly around the floor and made her look quite good. As they moved closer to Ellie, she recognized Prince Briar. He glanced her way, pale eyes glinting behind his mask. A rush of anticipation and affection flowed toward Ellie—then cut off as if a door had slammed in her face.

  But he couldn’t keep everything from her. The instant Ellie met his gaze, she knew he danced with Gillian only to keep her from causing trouble for Omar.

  Poor girl. Prince Briar was a rogue. But then, Gillian herself was a shrew, and Ellie couldn’t bring herself to like her.

  However, she liked Briar, rogue though he was. Not in a romantic way, but with genuine regard. They had met only days before, yet just now he had recognized her instantly despite her mask and seemed to sense her emotions as clearly as she sensed his.

  Her smile turned to a slight frown. How did he manage to shut her out? No one else could, not tonight.

  Ellie eased her way further into the room and stood against the wall. This new power of hers could easily become unbearable if she didn’t learn to control it. The emotions and thoughts wafting toward her from all sides were almost overwhelming: hints of yearning, envy, desire, amusement, delight, and sorrow.

  Had her glimpses into Prince Briar’s heart enhanced her gift? Or was it the unicorns, or the Gamekeeper? She struggled to block these random impressions and instead focused on individuals.

  There was King Aryn at a table near the garden doors, playing cards with three nobles. He was content enough with his hand and his situation, relaxed and confident. Ellie had always liked the king’s earnest face that reflected his inner man.

  Queen Sofia sat amid other ladies and talked. The woman’s smooth features and bright smile revealed little of the varied blend of emotions stirring within her. Love�
�there was so much love in Omar’s mother. Touches of concern as well, but underlying faith and serenity prevented it from lining the queen’s face.

  The song ended, and several of the dancers walked off the dance floor and scattered. Others went in search of new partners or simply waited for the next song to begin. Ellie was working up courage to thread her way around the room in search of Omar when someone addressed her in a voice she instantly recognized: “Good evening, mysterious lady in violet. May I have the honor of your next dance?”

  Silvery eyes gleamed at her from behind a plain black domino. Ellie grinned. “You may, sir.” Prince Briar was an expert dancer. This should be fun.

  He led her to the floor, and as soon as the lively music began and Briar twirled her into a backward dip, she could have laughed for joy. How had she lived without dancing all these years? Facing her and holding her hands, the scoundrel prince from Auvers led her in a series of intricate steps, and Ellie followed him with ease, as if they had practiced these moves together a thousand times, as if this moment had been selected from among her lost memories. He spun her, twirled her in a fancy lift, and she ended the swing dance in a back dip over his knee, her foot in its glass slipper twinkling high in the air. Panting and smiling in delight, Ellie heard applause all around and realized that the other dancers faced them in a wide circle. Several cried out, “Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing!”

  As Briar pulled her upright, he laughed, his triumph matching hers. “I knew it,” she gasped between pants. “I knew I could dance! How did you learn to dance so well?”

  He gave her a sharp glance, and she didn’t need magic to sense his disappointment. “I took lessons for many years.” A pause. “And you?”

  “I . . . I think I did too.”

  “You think? You don’t know?”

  Ellie stared into his eyes, feeling strangely as though she looked into a mirror. “Briar . . .”

  Then his gaze moved past her. “Ah.” He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, evidently repressing a smile. “Your dance, sir?”