by J. M. Stengl
Madame Genevieve regarded Ellie over the tops of her spectacles. “I have only moments to deal with you, Miss Calmer, so be truthful. I hold in my hand a note claiming that you removed cinder sprites from the royal guest suite, thereby saving the Zeidan family and possibly the entire castle from incineration, and that you afterward repaired all damage inflicted by the pests. It was written by Prince Omar of Khenifra on behalf of his royal parents and siblings.” Madame’s strange eyes seemed to peer into Ellie’s brain. “Do you deserve such commendation?”
Ellie’s spine was ramrod straight, and her gaze remained fixed on the letter. “I did my job, Madame, that’s all. This morning Sira the brownie alerted me that the Zeidan children had captured a family of sprites in the gardens and sneaked them into the family suite. I captured all six sprites and confined them in cages, then mended the damage they caused. They are currently in my cabin, pending either release or transfer to the Gamekeeper.”
“Indeed,” said the director, thoughtfully tapping the note with one finger. “Have you ever spoken with Prince Omar Zeidan before today?”
“Only once, Madame, and that was several years ago, after I spilled lemonade on his coat at a banquet.”
“I see.” Madame’s eye twitched. “Very well, Miss Calmer. You are aware of our fraternization rules. Carry on.” She waved one hand and returned her attention to the papers on her desk.
Thus Ellie was warned.
As if this warning had not annihilated her remaining peace of mind, another blow was yet to fall. That evening, on her way to the cafeteria with a few summer-staff gardeners, she encountered a large group of guests in the corridor outside the banquet hall, including Prince Omar with Raquel and Gillian pasted to his arms. Omar brightened and opened his mouth as if to greet her, but Gillian spoke first: “Well, if it isn’t Cinder Ellie!”
Raquel added, “Played in the ashes and soot today, Cinder Ellie?”
As soon as they were past, Ellie politely excused herself to her coworkers and took the service stairs down to the kitchen, where she begged a bowl of soup. With shrill laughter still ringing in her ears, she sat on the floor to eat among the brownies, who welcomed her, and the hobgoblins, who did not.
Geraldo gave her an accusing glare and growled, “Only two crumbs tonight, and neither of them chocolate. Hmph!”
The next morning one of the supervisors, Bence, a gruff, balding, former drill-sergeant, hailed her outside the cafeteria. “Calmer, you’re assigned lake patrol this week and next.”
“Lake patrol?” Her responsibilities as magical-creature controller made lake patrol impractical. “What if I get a call?”
He shrugged. “We’ll deal with it. We’re short a lifeguard, so get going. You know the drill; things haven’t changed much since you last worked.”
Ellie nodded and tried to smile. “I’ll eat fast.”
“Do that.” Bence wasn’t mean, just focused.
The patrol assignment was great—she loved being on the lake. But its suddenness was suspicious. Prince Omar never played in the lake. Rugby, polo, cross-country riding, tennis, football, archery, fencing—he enjoyed all these and more. He even swam laps in the indoor pool. But outdoor water sports? Never. Which was odd, since when Ellie first came to work at the camp, Omar had been a talented water-skier and wakeboarder, a daredevil off the ski-ramp. She had her suspicions about why he avoided the lake, but no proof.
Instead of breakfasting with her friends, she snatched a few hard-boiled eggs and a banana in the kitchen and ate quickly. Sira tapped on her knee. “This morning a coffee cake rose unevenly, so we gave it to Geraldo, and now all the hobgoblins are fighting over it out on the back porch.”
Ellie chuckled. “Then they’re happy. Since I’m on lake duty I won’t be around the castle much this week, but I’ll be praying for showers of cake crumbs.”
Brownies look mournful even when blissfully happy, but now Sira looked deeply concerned as well. Ellie quickly amended: “I mean, I hope Geraldo behaves himself. I don’t really want it to rain cake . . . Never mind.”
Sira blinked her melancholy eyes and said, “Yes, Miss Ellie.” And Ellie headed back to her cottage to change into swim gear, berating herself. Why did she so often forget that brownies take everything literally? Poor little Sira!
All that day she patrolled the sparkling mountain lake on her scooter, enjoying the beauty, keeping watch for the lake monster, and handing out a few warnings. After her quick lunch break, she picked up a water-skier who refused to climb back into the ski boat.
Ellie recognized this unfortunate little skier, a princess from Nsukka, as a friend of Rafiq and Yasmine. Three other children in the boat, probably her brothers, shouted orders and suggestions at the girl in the water, who kept trying to swim away.
The boat’s driver, who also shared the young girl’s black skin and nearly perfect features, must be an older sister. She too shouted at the swimmer, not unkindly, but frustration laced her voice.
Ellie sensed the little princess’s embarrassment, exhaustion, and reluctance to rejoin her companions after repeated failures to remain upright on her skis for more than a few seconds. She moved her scooter in close. “Would you like to ride back to shore with me?” she asked, infusing her voice with optimism.
The girl nodded and stopped paddling. “Yes, please,” she said, her eyes imploring.
After hauling the exhausted princess up behind her on the scooter, Ellie shouted to the others in the boat, “Don’t worry, I’ll take her safely back to shore.”
“Thanks!” called the sister, then maneuvered the boat around to pick up the abandoned skis. Moments later, the ski boat roared off.
Ellie felt the child’s shuddering sobs at her back. Over the past few years she had learned that words didn’t matter as much as her tone when it came to rebuilding confidence, even in a human. “So now it’s just you and me and the fish,” she said. “What is your name, Your Highness?”
“Aisosa.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Princess Aisosa. How old are you?”
“I will be twelve in October.”
“I was twelve when I first came here to work. Don’t let anyone fool you—it takes time and practice to develop balance and strength enough to ski well, and none of those kids learned in a day.”
“My sister stood up on her first try,” Aisosa grumbled.
“Well, good for her. I sure didn’t! It took me two summers of practice before I could stay up for more than a minute. Anyway, I bet you’re good at other sports. You look like a runner.”
She felt the girl nod against her life jacket. “I do like to run fast,” she said. “I like the lake best from inside a boat.”
Ellie grinned. “I hope you like my scooter too. It’s pretty fun. Want to see what it can do?”
“We won’t tip over?”
“Nope. I’ll be careful. Hold on to my waist and nod when you’re ready, okay?”
As soon as Aisosa nodded, Ellie gunned her scooter. “Let’s go!” She took the girl for a gentle ride, performing a few loops and figure eights, all the while charming her passenger back into happiness. She was forbidden to use magic on guests, but no matter how she struggled to control it, traces of enchantment frequently slipped into her voice.
As they skimmed past the island, an exotic paradise set in the middle of the mountain lake, Aisosa asked, “Is it true that sirens live there?”
Ellie grinned. She could see two mermaids perched on a flat rock, one combing her long red hair, the other arranging her iridescent tail, but she didn’t say so. Sirens remained invisible to unmagical humans unless they deliberately spoke to one, and they called only men. “Yes, they are the reason men and boys are not allowed to drive boats at this end of the lake, and we discourage men from boating at all,” she explained over her shoulder. “Guests frequently ignore the warnings, however. Guys hear the rumors and just have to try their luck.”
“What do the sirens do?” The girl sounded skeptical.
/> “When a siren sings to a young man, he believes her voice the most beautiful sound he has ever heard and will do anything to go to her. Sometimes the siren will let him see her, which makes him even more obsessed with her beauty. And then she sends a wave or whirlpool to wreck his boat, leaves him in the water, and laughs.”
“That’s terrible! Do sirens ever hurt the boys here?” Aisosa asked.
“None of our guests have drowned or even been injured. The sirens aren’t allowed to touch them. And there’s a bright side: We get several new boats every summer!”
“Why doesn’t the resort director send them away?” Aisosa asked. “They don’t sound at all nice.”
“I agree with you, but many regular guests to Faraway Castle insist that the sirens remain. Want to know a secret? Their singing gives me a headache.”
“I thought only men could hear them,” Aisosa said.
“I have a little bit of magic, so sometimes I can hear them too. But to me they sound like buzzing hornets.”
The little princess laughed. By the time Ellie dropped Aisosa off at the docks, they were fast friends. “I feel happier now,” the girl told her as she climbed off the scooter. “I think I’ll keep trying to water ski, even if I don’t like it much. Rafiq likes to ski.”
“His brother Omar used to be amazing on skis and wakeboard,” Ellie said without thinking. She hastily added, “Taim and Layla are great skiers too.”
Oh dear. She sounded as if she knew the family personally.
“You’re awfully nice.” Aisosa had a dazzling smile.
“Thank you,” Ellie said with genuine warmth. “I think you’re pretty awesome too. See you later!”
As she headed back out on patrol, Ellie kicked herself for the slip. For all her magical gift of speech, she had the most trouble keeping control of ordinary words.
On her second day of lake duty, Ellie saw the Zeidan children, along with Aisosa and two of her younger siblings, playing in the water at the beach, which was roped off as a safe area. Ellie scanned the shore eagerly but saw only the nanny seated under a tree with Rita. No sign of the Zeidan parents.
Or of Omar.
She was disappointed. But, she acknowledged to herself, Omar’s absence made it easier to concentrate on her work. She needed to get all these silly thoughts about him out of her head anyway.
Around midmorning, while skimming along the north shore of the island, Ellie saw a scaly something floating on the surface. Curious, she slowed down to move closer. It was long and thin, much longer than she’d first guessed. Much, much longer. And were those . . . spikes? The lake serpent! It must be sunning itself.
Just as she decided to back off and sneak away, the creature suddenly sank beneath the surface, and her scooter spun helplessly about on the waves.
Heart pounding in her throat, she resumed her patrol, but her thoughts were scrambled. The serpent had never harmed anyone, so far as she knew, but once she had seen it threaten a guest—Omar, actually—and that memory lingered, sometimes in her nightmares.
After that alarming event, the morning was uneventful. Sometime after her lunch break, she was trolling along the northeast shore when screams and shouts reached her ears. They seemed to come from within a small bay, so Ellie gunned her engine and followed the noise.
Among some reeds near the shore, she saw a man in a wetsuit. He appeared to be dragging a small rowboat occupied by three boys, hauling it by its mooring line while they desperately tried to row in the opposite direction. One of the two larger boys stopped rowing to attack him with an oar, but the man caught it and yanked it from his hands. She heard the rumble of the man’s voice and saw him snatch something from another boy and throw it onto the nearby bank. The boys were panicked while the man remained eerily calm.
What could she do? She carried no weapons, and that man was big. Her voice was her only weapon. Using it on guests was forbidden . . . but this was an emergency.
As she cautiously approached, the smallest boy, a freckled redhead, called out to her in his treble voice. “Help! Thief! He’s stealing our things!”
“It’s just a girl,” snapped the other redhead, who had to be his older brother. “What could she do to help, idiot?”
Just as Ellie drew breath and opened her mouth, the man said, “Stealing? I took away your fishing poles.” He turned to Ellie. “They were fishing.”
“We only want catfish and panfish,” the biggest boy said, shoving lanky black hair from his face. “We aren’t hurting anything.”
“You think catfish and panfish don’t feel pain?” The man glowered as if the fish were his personal friends. Now she could see that he was young, early twenties at most, with wide shoulders and a rangy build, a short beard, buzz-cut hair, and sunblock on his nose.
Ellie put her scooter into idle and let it drift closer. “The rule is no fishing, with no exceptions,” she told the boys, then gave the man a curious look. “Are you new here, sir?”
“I stayed at the resort twice before, most recently six years ago.” He kept his focus on the boys.
Six years ago? That would have been her first summer at Faraway Castle. He didn’t look familiar.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Torbjorn. I’m from Hyllestad.”
His tone was polite but distant. Guests were often haughty in their manner toward staff members. This guy just seemed distracted.
“I thank you for rescuing the resort’s fish,” she said. “If you would hand over the boys’ fishing gear, I will take it to the office for proper disposal and alert the director to this misconduct.” Still seated on her idling scooter, she pulled a pad and pen from a waterproof compartment under her seat then fixed her gaze on the boys. “Names, please.”
The boys mumbled their names, spelling them when necessary. She’d been right—the redheads were brothers, and all three were lords’ sons from Rathvilly. Then Torbjorn waded out waist-deep and passed their gear to Ellie, who stowed the small tackle box in her storage compartment and laid the fishing poles across her lap.
“Is this everything?” she asked.
The boys nodded.
“What did you use for bait?” the man asked.
“We dug worms in the garden,” the youngest boy, Brian, answered warily.
“That was stealing. Put them back where they belong.”
Ellie bit her lip to prevent a smile. “He’s right,” she said. “I’m sure you did not have permission to dig worms.”
“The guy is cracked!” Quinn, the big brother, muttered. “Clean off his nut!”
Which may well be true, Ellie mused. On the plus side, the boys didn’t dare defy her authority while the big vigilante loomed near. No need to use her magic. She ordered, “Now you boys head directly to the dock and turn in your boat. I must report your offense to Bence, my supervisor.”
The dark-haired boy, Desmond, spoke up. “We need our oars back. He took ’em.”
As the man waded back to the shore where he’d tossed the oars, Ellie saw something large and gray break the water’s surface not far behind him. A fish? She was jumpy after that lake-serpent encounter.
Then, when Torbjorn waded back out to return the oars, the creature appeared again, bumping him in the side. “Back off a minute,” she heard him say. To the fish?
Its head appeared at the surface beside him, revealing a wide mouth, small yellow eyes, and trailing whiskers.
“Whoa! I didn’t know there were fish that size in this lake,” Quinn said.
“That’s a monster catfish,” said Desmond with awe.
Monster? These kids had no idea what lurked in these waters. A close-up glimpse of the lake serpent might put them off fishing for life!
Once he’d handed over the oars and the coiled mooring line, the man Torbjorn reached out to rub the catfish’s broad head. “He’s no monster. He’s a pet. Years ago, he was hooked by another illegal fisherman”—he pointed to a notch in the fish’s broad lip—“but someone rescued him. And h
e’s smart. I haven’t been here in six years, yet this fish still remembers me.”
“No way!” Desmond said. “I didn’t know fish could think.”
“And they’re protected by law.” Torbjorn spoke with calm authority. “From now on, hunt fish with a camera. Maybe you could make friends with one like Fathoms here.”
“I’ll put the worms back in the garden, mister,” Brian piped up.
Torbjorn nodded approval.
Desmond started rowing, and Brian waved to the fish man. “Goodbye!” he called. “Goodbye, Fathoms.” The fish swam after the boat, that big head plowing through the waves, and Brian reached over the side to touch its slimy back. Only Quinn still looked sulky by the time the boat moved out of sight.
Ellie turned to the fish guardian. “I appreciate your assistance, sir.”
Standing there in the reedy water, Torbjorn bowed slightly, then for the first time focused on her. “Have there been any siren incidents recently? I mean, do they still live on the island?”
“Why do you ask?” Her guard went up. She backed her scooter, keeping her eyes on him.
“I need to know.” The catfish returned and butted against the man’s arm. He absently put his arm around its thick body.
“The sirens are still around.” She wanted to add “unfortunately” but restrained herself. This guy needed watching, she mused. He was either a genius or a wack job. Maybe both. “Thanks again for the help.”
She drove away, leaving Tor among the reeds with his catfish. What a strange dude! At the docks she tied up her scooter, unloaded the tackle box and awkwardly carried three fishing poles toward the lifeguard station. “Whoa,” was Bence’s comment when she stacked her booty in a corner of the shed.
“Did the boys turn themselves in?” she asked. “I have their names. If they gave me false names, I can identify their faces.”
“They did come.” He gave her a look. “Did you enchant them?”
“Not a word.” Thanks to the fish vigilante.
