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.”
Ellie boggled. “I had no idea!” She looked back over the colony in wonder. Those little creatures scurrying here and there, eating, chirping, fighting, playing—they shared community and had social structures. “I have so much to learn about magic beasts!”
“Time is passing in your world, however, and we have much to do.” He again offered his arm, and Ellie, after blowing kisses to her sprite friends, again accepted his escort.
This time he paused in an open area. “I intend to transport us by magic to the home of a creature that may be able to shed light on certain events in your past. You need not fear; I will allow no harm to come to you. Do not let go of my arm.”
Before Ellie could think to ask a question, he stretched out his free arm and seemed to push against the air. They stepped forward as if through a doorway, and everything went dark. It felt dry and cold and infinitely black. Without realizing, she lowered her chin and closed her eyes. Then she felt a jolt, as if she’d been jerked sideways, and a fresh, cold breeze struck her face.
“We’re here,” the Gamekeeper said. “Vlad should arrive shortly. I sent a message.”
When Ellie hesitantly opened her eyes, her chin still tucked, the first thing she saw was a terrible emptiness before her feet, as if the ground had been cut off and dropped away. She shrieked, squeezed her eyes shut again, clung to the Gamekeeper’s arm, and moaned, “Where have you taken us?”
“I’m terrified of heights!” Ellie scarcely recognized that shrill voice as hers.
The Gamekeeper stepped away from the precipice, bringing Ellie with him. “I apologize. I hadn’t thought how the altitude might affect you. Come. I brought us here to the entrance rather than invade the family’s privacy, but we can move further into the cave.” As they turned, she glanced back and realized they stood at the entrance of a cave near the top of a sheer mountain surrounded by other peaks. Despite the glaciers all around and a brisk wind, she did not feel cold, yet terror sent tremors through her body and her teeth chattered.
At the Gamekeeper’s urging, her feet moved even as her brain felt immobile. Not until solid walls surrounded her and the cave opening was a bright spot in her peripheral vision did she begin to relax.
“What is this place? It smells strange.”
“We are at the home of a magical creature who may be able to shed light on your history,” the Gamekeeper replied. He spoke quietly, yet his voice always made her soul shiver. “I sent a message and expect him to arrive shortly. I will allow no harm to come to you, Miss Calmer.” He sounded genuinely regretful.
But then she heard a cry that turned her blood to ice. Slowly she looked up and saw her nightmare alight at the cave’s entrance. Burning yellow eyes, feathers, talons reaching to grab her, an open beak . . . Ellie screamed . . .
She saw spinning mountain peaks beneath her, felt the rush of wind that blocked all other sound, including her own screams. Then something grasped her arms, jerking her body forward and up instead of down. Her head snapped back, and she stared up at the underside of a strange birdlike creature.
“You are safe, Ellie. He will not harm you.” The voice seemed to speak into her thoughts, into her memory.
Ellie opened her eyes but saw only the Gamekeeper’s hooded profile. She still stood upright, clinging to his arm. Briefly she considered the fact that she was at the mercy of not one but two monsters. Yet his presence was comforting after all.
For he stood between her and the creature now silhouetted against the cave’s entrance: an enormous griffin.
Cruel yellow eyes stared at her, a huge beak snapped in irritation, and long talons clicked on the stone floor as it approached, folding its wings. “Why have you come?” It spoke clearly, its tone regal and resentful.