The white sprite looked up, directly into her eyes, and gave a cheery squeak. Ellie grinned. That was a yes. Somehow these two seemed able to communicate emotion to her, much as the unicorn did. Cinder sprites were magical beings, but some of them, such as the elder sprite, had more control of their magic than others. Ellie shook her head. The complexities of the magic world seemed endless. Even her tutor Arabella still had much to learn.
Three years ago, cinder sprites had begun to appear on Faraway Castle property, triggering fear in resident pixies who believed (for no logical reason) that sprites threatened their food supply and homes. A group of pixies had begun threatening and frightening sprites in the attempt to eliminate them, for once a sprite burst into flame it would burn until it died.
That crisis had been the impetus for Ellie’s promotion from ordinary worker to Controller of Magical Creatures, a position created for her by the Gamekeeper himself, much to the director’s disgust. Ellie could trap most small magical beings who caused problems for the resort, but pixies had proven uniquely resistant to her magic. The elder sprite Starfire was the Gamekeeper’s provision for pixie-protection for sprites and humans alike. Ellie had met the large, dignified sprite only once, but she knew he must still be around, for she seldom glimpsed pixies anymore, and cinder sprites were thriving. Ellie prided herself on her part in bringing these charming creatures back from the brink of self-extinction, for her herbal spray combined with her magic was the only known means of saving a sprite once it had “gone ember.”
Before Ellie left for work, the two sprites were comfortably settled in a cage on her chest of drawers. With hay for bedding (and snacks) a generous supply of fresh greens, and a tube and a few balls for entertainment, they frolicked happily and even groomed Ellie’s fingers with tiny pink tongues when she reached in to pet them.
Her prospects suddenly looked much brighter. She had a purpose in the world, a niche no royal princess could fill, no matter how blue her blood. Perspective was a wonderful thing.
Ellie worked that morning in the gardens with Rosa until a sprite event in a castle storeroom interrupted her tree-trimming. She handled everything with calm expertise and welcomed the emergency. She was professional. She was independent. She was impervious.
Until she carried a stack of cages through the side garden gate and heard running feet and a chorus of happy cries: “Ellie! Miss Ellie, did you catch more cinder sprites?”
Ellie stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes, and dammed up the rush of emotion threatening to flood her soul. Then she turned to smile at the Zeidan children. “I did! A whole family of them. One with tiny babies.”
The children clustered around her, the two youngest hopping up and down on the service road, all talking at once. “Ellie, why haven’t you been at the lake? Ellie, we miss you! Ellie, may I hold one? Ellie . . .”
She set down the cages and distributed hugs all around. Even Rafiq accepted one. “I have missed you too, my dears. Have you been at the beach today?”
“We were going there,” he said, “but then Nanny had a headache and wanted a nap, so Omar said we could come and watch him play tennis—there’s a playground right by the courts—so that’s what we’re doing now.”
Ellie gave Rafiq a level look. “You are watching Omar play tennis?” She glanced around. “Some kind of new magical ability?”
Rafiq rolled his eyes. “The courts are right over there. We saw you, and . . .” He shrugged, then picked up two sprite cages. “We came to help.”
Explanation finished.
“Omar won’t mind,” Yasmine said. “He misses you too. He said so.”
The children knew nothing about the unicorn expedition or its aftermath, of course. “Why don’t you play with him?” Rita asked, hopping around Ellie’s legs.
“Tennis, you mean? I have to work,” Ellie said. “Tell you what. You all can help me carry the cinder sprites to my cottage, and then I’ll walk you back to the tennis courts. And we’ll hope Omar doesn’t notice you’re missing.”
The children all agreed and rushed through the gate and the garden, then into the castle through a service door to collect cages. “We could help you in the garden too,” Yasmine suggested.
“Thank you for the offer, but maybe another time,” Ellie said, stacking two more cages atop the two already in Rafiq’s arms. This sprite catch had been her largest yet: twelve, counting the litter of new babies. Once the children were loaded down with cages—Rita carrying only one but intensely proud and careful of her burden—they all trooped down the garden path, through the gate, along the service road, then through the strip of pines into the staff living quarters.
Seeing Ellie’s home was a huge thrill for Rita and Karim, who tested every chair and searched her refrigerator. She allowed them to distribute carrots to the sprites, who perked up immediately. Three were still recovering from effects of going ember, but the others puffed and squeaked and munched. The children squeaked back to them, and a loud chorus soon filled the cottage.
Ellie offered the children apples, the only snack she had on hand, but while she was searching the refrigerator, two children disappeared. Rafiq and Karim accepted their apples and explained that the girls had gone exploring. Hearing cries of delight from her bedroom, Ellie knew she’d been found out.
Rita ran into the living room, her face glowing. “You have two sprites in your room—cutest ever!”
Naturally, the boys needed to see for themselves, and Ellie was hard put to explain why these two sprites were not stacked with the others. The sprites put their paws up on the glass walls and greeted the children with happy squeaks. “May we hold them?” Yasmine inquired. “They don’t look at all frightened.”
Ellie couldn’t argue. If the sprites didn’t mind this much hopping and squealing from the children, they were unlikely to object to being held. She told the children to sit in a circle on the floor, then set the two sprites in the round space. “You can offer them bites of your apples,” she suggested. “I’m out of carrots.”
The red baby climbed immediately into Karim’s lap, to his delight. “What are their names?” he asked. “This one should be Sparky. He looks like fire even when he’s not burning.”
“She,” Ellie corrected. “They are both girls. But Sparky is a fine name.”
“We could spell it with an i,” Yasmine suggested. She lured the white sprite into her lap with a chunk of apple. “And this one should be Frosti. She is so pretty!”
Rafiq and Rita soon demanded their turns, and the sisters Frosti and Sparki were shuffled about by small hands without a hint of distress, answering to their names within moments. Ellie could only watch and wonder. She sensed nothing but contentment and pleasure from the little creatures.
But soon she had to break up the party. “Your brother might be looking for you by now,” she reminded them. “Better put Sparki and Frosti back into their cage.”
Rafiq and Yasmine claimed that privilege, and soon the sprites dined on apple cores, puffing and chirping their delight.
“Goodbye, babies,” said Rita, waving at them through the glass.
“Goodbye, Sparki and Frosti,” the others chorused.
Ellie steered her companions outside, privately thinking they were harder to herd than wild cinder sprites. “I don’t want to go back to the tennis courts,” Rita whined. “It’s boring there. Can’t we stay with you, Ellie?”
“How about we hop there like cinder sprites?” Ellie suggested, hoping to avert a storm. Taking Rita and Karim each by the hand, she began to hop and skip forward. They both joined in, and Yasmine took Rita’s other hand to make a chain. At first Rafiq abstained, walking apart from the group and looking scornful. But he could not bear to be left out for long, and soon grabbed Karim’s hand and took over the lead. Soon they were all running and skipping—and Rita’s feet sometimes left the ground for several paces.