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W hen Elowen arrived back at the blacksmith’s shop, the throng of young ladies had dispersed, and the handsome young man was gone. She pushed aside her disappointment at his absence, annoyed again at her silliness.

“Now what?” Ash asked.

Kennet smiled in delight to hear the golden goose speak.

The mother looked suspiciously at Elowen. “I can see there’s more to your story than you’ve told us. I might not mind hearing it sometime.”

“Maybe one of the blacksmiths has a tool,” Ash said.

“They’re not going to cut off my hand, are they?” Kennet spoke to Ash as if a talking golden goose were nothing out of the ordinary.

“Don’t say such things,” his mother said.

“Of course not,” Ash assured him. “Let’s go, Elowen.”

Tongue-tied, Elowen approached the blacksmiths, unsure which one looked more reliable. The man with the braided beard approached, curiosity clear in his expression. Ash pinched Elowen’s arm with his beak.

“Keep it simple,” he hissed.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she blurted. How simple could she make such a complicated mess? It seemed every time she had to explain her circumstances, it became more and more twisted. “We’re in a bind with a fairy-gifted golden goose who ... seems to have some unexpected magical properties.”

Both blacksmiths crowded closer to get a better look. Braided Beard reached out as if to touch the golden feathers.

“No!” Elowen pulled Ash close and stepped back.

“Wasn’t gonna steal one,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, but that’s part of the problem. The boy has become stuck to the feathers.”

“And Mumma is stuck to me.” Kennet demonstrated by trying to pull his hand away from Ash while twitching his arm in his mother’s grip.

Ash grumbled wordlessly as they were all jostled around again. Braided Beard walked off and began looking through his tools.

The bald blacksmith held out his hand to the woman. “If you’ll just step over here so I can have a better look.”

“No!” Elowen yelled again, but it was too late. The woman had already placed her hand in his.

The blacksmith shook his arm, his brows furrowed. “You can let go.”

“I can’t.” The mother glared at Elowen as if she were responsible.

Elowen supposed she was, although she would prefer to blame the fairy.

The blacksmith shook his arm harder, which tipped the woman into her son and nearly sent Elowen to the ground. The pack basket and Ash were enough of a burden without having three people now magically strung along beside her.

Braided Beard watched the commotion. He held up an iron tool made for pinching ... something ... and raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward.

“Stop!” The bald blacksmith stepped in front of them all, pulling the mother with him and shielding them all with his broad shoulders. He spoke to his friend over his shoulder. “You’re not coming near me with that thing. Keep your distance.”

Ash hissed at an elderly couple who had drawn too close while observing the commotion.

“Did you hear me?” The bald blacksmith turned to them and spoke firmly. “Keep your distance!”

The couple scurried away.

“Good-for-nothing fairy,” Ash said. He shifted his wings as if itching to fly. “What good is a golden goose? What good is a sticky golden goose? What was that little wish-granting bug thinking? I’m meant to be a gift? I’m useless!” He mumbled something about a flaming fairy, or ... flaming a fairy. Either way, Elowen needed to calm him down before he loosened the knot and fell out of the cloak.

That would draw far too much attention.

She whispered soothing words and shifted him to sit comfortably at her hip, instructing Kennet to stay close to her side. With Kennet’s mother holding his arm and her other hand in the blacksmith’s grip, they could almost pass as a family out for a stroll.

An odd family, no doubt, but surely they could walk the streets without gathering any more interest than they already had.

“I don’t think any normal tools will help,” Elowen said. “Not with magic involved.”

“We might try the apothecary,” the bald blacksmith said. “Man owes me a favor.”

“Shall you lead, or shall I?”

The blacksmith gestured to her with his free hand. “Ladies first, please. I’ll direct you.” He nodded to his friend, and they set off.

With three people following so closely on her heels, Elowen was forced to walk slowly. They made it around two corners, and then someone shrieked behind them.

“Confounded woman!” the blacksmith said through clenched teeth.

One of the young ladies who had been studying the handsome journeyman earlier was now attached to the blacksmith, elbow to elbow.

The blacksmith scowled. “Don’t you lot ever get tired of ogling the—”

The woman’s panicked cries drowned out his words, and he worked to calm her and explain their predicament. Elowen gladly let him, and Kennet’s mother took over directing her to the apothecary.

Elowen now had four people tugging against her and Ash. His golden head had become uncovered, and the knot at her waist threatened to come free. She could imagine the fairy perched somewhere, secretly giggling at the odd parade. Why had she ever thought the fairy meant this gift for good?

Exasperated, Elowen untied the knot in the cloak and held Ash in her arms, sighing in relief as the chafing at her neck eased. Let people look. They were already drawing a crowd, people of all ages staring and pointing and whispering.

The blacksmith had calmed the young lady and now yelled to the bystanders to stand back and make way, his booming voice clearing a path for the time being.

Kennet waved to someone, pulling his mother’s arm along in his enthusiasm. “We’re stuck to a magic goose!”

A few gasps erupted from those who heard, more whispers hissed, and the crowd drew back collectively in a wave of shuffling feet.

Elowen followed the mother’s directions, their progress slowing considerably as more people lined the streets. She tucked in her elbows and held Ash close. The last thing they needed was a fifth person in tow.

How could one city hold so many people?

They passed the useless fountain, threaded their way down two more streets and around another corner, with only one more street to go.

A man stepped out in front of them, blocking their path. He smiled. “May I be of assistance?”

It was the handsome man from the smithy.

Elowen’s cheeks flamed. She couldn’t look away from his black eyes. What had he said?

The blacksmith stepped forward minutely and offered a slight bow so as not to jostle anyone. He spoke casually, as if to a friend. “We seem to be stuck to this young lass’s fairy-magicked goose. We’re headed to the apothecary to get some help.”

“I would be glad to escort you to the castle to see the royal apothecary.” The handsome man eyed the crowd, who watched him as closely as they watched Elowen’s strange procession.

The blacksmith nodded his approval and turned to Elowen. “What does the young lass say?”

The young man was a nobleman, she was sure of it. Embarrassed to have drawn his attention, she cleared her throat and spoke hesitantly. “I can’t ... possibly afford the services of a royal apothecary.” She wouldn’t have to spend her golden coin on that, would she? What about Cedar’s ransom?

The young man stepped to the side and swept his arm out, beckoning her to walk ahead of him. “No need to worry about money. Please, allow me to help.”

Only a nobleman could say such a thing so easily. She always worried about money.

Ash plucked at her sleeve, the hopeful look in his eyes making the decision easier.

“Thank you, sir.” She dipped her head in gratitude and stepped forward. The young man matched her pace, taking care to keep several feet between them. Side by side, they led their motley parade to the castle.