Page 32 of Ellie and the Prince
Nope. No chink in that armor. Ellie paused before she spoke. “I think I would remember if I’d met him before. He’s . . . Well, he would be hard to forget, you know?”
And yet she easily resisted his charm. Possibly for the same reason Omar was immune to the sirens’ call: Her heart was already taken.
“Forgetting him is no problem for me,” Rosa said, her full lips pressing into a hard line.
Oh, really? But Ellie kept her thoughts to herself, and the conversation soon changed to less volatile topics. Ellie needed to keep her thoughts from rolling back to Omar and the unicorn search, and Rosa was always willing to talk about plants and garden pests.
The two girls worked hard until Rosa straightened, pulled off her gloves, and removed her tool belt. “I’ve got errands to run. It’s nearly four o’clock, you know.”
“Is it really?” Panic knotted Ellie’s stomach.
Rosa smiled. “It really is. You’d better get going.” As she stepped out the greenhouse door, she paused to call back, “Looks like the storm is over. Good luck tonight. You can save that unicorn, I know.”
“Thanks.” Ellie managed a grateful smile. “See you later.”
While cleaning up her area, Ellie wondered—not for the first time—what vital task drew Rosa to the back of the gardens several times a day. It was more than a year now since Ellie and Jeralee, convinced that Rosa was under magical compulsion, followed her through a gate, hoping to free their friend from what must be a curse. That attempt ended badly. She and Jeralee had walked away with blistered legs, no memory of what happened, and no desire to repeat the experience.
And Rosa had bluntly told them not to try again and asked them to speak of it to no one if they were truly her friends. Something in her tone and manner convinced them, so no further attempt had followed. But curiosity was less easily quenched. Now Ellie wondered, had Prince Briar been snooping around that same gate?
Ellie had filled a backpack before coming to work, so now she simply collected it from a storage shed, slung it over her shoulder, and headed toward the stables. To avoid arousing suspicion, she hid the pack behind a stone in one of the back pastures then took a roundabout route to the remotest barn. Visiting horses was one of her secret pleasures, and the maternity barn was a favorite haunt. Here, pregnant mares were stabled at night along with new mothers and their foals.
Savoring the warm scent of hay and horse, she moved from stall to stall, murmuring love to expectant mothers. Halfway down the row of boxes she found the faithful pair of stable brownies tending a mare with a foal only hours old. “Good afternoon, Howurl and Miria,” she greeted them, leaning her forearms on the half door. “How is our new mother?”
“Very well, Miss Ellie,” Miria answered from her seat atop the mare’s neck, where she was braiding the long black mane. “And the little one is strong and lively.” Her sharp eyes reviewed Ellie in a glance. “You are going for a hike with someone?”
Ellie had expected as much from Miria, who could have made a fortune as a detective were she so inclined. “I am meeting Prince Omar of Khenifra here. We intend to search for the unicorn and send it away before a party of guests can find it.”
“Ah,” said Howurl, his voice deep and mournful as he brushed the sleeping foal’s legs. “The unicorn. We were ordered to have five horses ready.”
“Would you like us to delay the hunting party?” Miria asked. “The dwarfs will help us, I know.”
Ellie only smiled. “Do as you think best. One of the party also intends to sabotage the hunt: Prince Briar of Auvers.”
Miria nodded. “Ah, I would have guessed it. We know him.” She and Howurl exchanged a look, leaving Ellie in doubt of their opinion of the prince. Then Miria turned back to Ellie. “We know of someone else who might be willing to help you if we ask him.”
“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.”
