Page 14 of Pippa of Lauramore (The Eldentimber #1)

W hen I was a little girl, my grandparents brought me a globe from Ptarma. When I shook it, glittering pigments mixed with a clear oil and shimmered over a little sculpted village. There was beautiful chaos for several minutes, and then the pigments settled, leaving the scene calm again.

I feel like I’m in that globe. Archer turned my world upside down, sending a riot of beautiful, sparkling pigments around me, but everything is settled and calm this morning.

I steal a glance at him. The salve worked well, and the welts are barely visible. He hasn’t mentioned last night’s conversation, which tells me it was nothing more than the fever addling his brain. I’m not sure he even remembers my visit to the cottage.

That’s for the best.

I don’t need my friendship with him getting confused and complicated. Archer is my friend. Galinor is my love .

“Pippa, you look lost in thought this morning,” my mother says.

My family, our knights, Lady Marigold, and Archer all look my way. With the visiting princes and lords away for the scavenger hunt, I’m allowed to join the family breakfast.

“She’s probably dreaming of Prince Galinor,” Alexander says with a snort.

My brother’s comment gets a round of quiet laughter. Leonora smiles at me from her place next to Percival. I haven’t spoken to her in the last few days, and I know she’s noticed my absence. She hasn’t asked me to explain my whereabouts. Not yet, anyway.

Lady Marigold is quiet, just as she was the day I met her.

She’s seated next to Archer, and my eyes wander to her.

She eats in silence, glances up when someone speaks, and then quickly lowers her gaze back to the table.

From the bits of conversation I’ve actually been listening to, Leonora has been keeping her company the last few days.

It’s harsh to think it, but I’m glad I haven’t been charged with entertaining Lady Marigold. She seems awfully dull. I have no idea what I would do with her.

I’m startled when she lets out a quiet laugh. Archer smiles at her as he passes her the bread basket. She glances at him, blushes, and then accepts a roll.

I snap my gaze away, feeling…something.

Flashing me a quick grin, Leonora catches my eye and tilts her head to Archer and the smiling Lady Marigold. What’s that supposed to mean?

I rise from my chair. The scavenger hunt is wreaking havoc on my stomach, and I have almost no appetite. “Excuse me. I have lessons.”

My mother gives me a funny look. “Paint with me today, Pippa. I have nothing else to see to, so I am going to enjoy myself.”

I shake my head. “I’m not feeling well. I’ll do my lessons then rest for the afternoon.”

My father gives Archer a disapproving look. “You’ve been too strenuous in your training. I’ve heard how much time Pippa has been spending on her archery.”

“No, Father,” I interrupt before Archer can answer. “ I have been relentless in my training. With the conditions of my punishment, I’ve found practicing my bow a worthwhile pastime. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“She’s besotted with that prince from Glendon,” I hear Percival say as I leave.

“He’s far from the most suitable,” my father answers. “But we have little to fear. There is no doubt Lionel will come out victorious.”

We’ll see about that.

Since Anna disappeared again after breakfast, I excused myself from my lessons by switching them up so my tutors think I am with someone else all day. It was effective yesterday, and I hope it works as well today.

Archer has been in an uncharacteristically good mood all afternoon. He’s even being chatty with Galinor. I can’t help but think it has something to do with his morning with Lady Marigold. Leonora seems delighted at the prospect of the two of them getting along well.

I glance at Galinor. He smiles, reaching out to take my hand as we ride.

Good. Archer deserves to be happy.

“What’s troubling you?” Galinor asks. His brow creases in concern.

“The fifth item,” I answer. Though it’s not entirely true of the moment, the fifth item has been on my mind.

“I’ve heard rumors it’s a black pearl.” He doesn’t seem troubled. In fact, he’s in much better spirits than yesterday. He was overjoyed when I presented him with the new inger egg, and he thanked Archer profusely.

Neither Archer nor Galinor seems concerned about the Eldentimber resin, but I’m a little uneasy.

Eldentimber trees are rare, and it’s a good half a day’s ride to the one I know of.

Archer was late leaving breakfast, and it made us late meeting Galinor.

I had to wait for him in the armory until the third bells of the day sounded.

“Black pearls are the rarest known gem in Lauramore, and they are certainly worth more than anything I can think of,” I finally answer.

Though the resin will take us most of the day, we will still have tomorrow to find a pearl. I just hope Lionel doesn’t find one first.

“I don’t think it’s a pearl,” Archer says, voicing his opinion yet again. He’s not riding far in front of us today, and is close enough to join in the conversation.

“What is it then, Archer?” I ask, my tone snippier than I mean it to be.

“I don’t know yet,” he answers with an easy grin .

We’ve been riding half the day, and we’re very near the Eldentimber tree now.

Patches of goodleburgen brush sporadically sprout up here and there, their strange blue leaves almost glowing in the dappled forest light.

Birds call to one another, twittering like they haven’t a care in the world.

That’s a little strange—there are usually many predators in the deep woods. Songbirds don’t live here.

Archer takes in a sharp breath, and I look at the trail in front of us.

A silver stag, perfect and regal, crosses our path. Glancing at us like we’re nothing more than bothersome squirrels, he continues on his way. I watch, my mouth hanging open, as he disappears in the brush.

The Eldentimber tree grows just beyond the spot where the stag crossed. Its gold leaves sway in a breeze I don’t feel. I gasp as a whir of white light flies past us, around the white trunk, and then up into the branches to join hundreds of other sparkling lights.

“Pippa?” Archer asks, concerned. “Were there fairies living in this tree last time you were here?”

“No.”

“Actual fairies?” Galinor asks, bemused.

Before I can answer, one of the lights zooms to Archer and pauses in front of his face. I can just make out the tiny man, but his wings move like a hummingbird’s; they are nothing but a blur.

“You trespass on King Brugpondam’s territory. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“We most certainly do not trespass,” I say hotly. “This land belongs to my father, King Ewan of Lauramore, and you may tell your king he is trespassing himself.”

Leaving a flicker of sparks in his wake, the fairy flits to me. His hair is white like his flame, and his clothes are like doll clothes—just like ours but tiny. “You are Princess Pippa?”

“I am.”

“Then you are forgiven.”

I open my mouth to retort, but Galinor interrupts before I have a chance.

“Good sir.” He gives me a look that plainly says I am to keep my mouth shut. “We are sorry to disturb His Majesty, but we are here for an item precious to us. If you can help us secure that item, we will leave you in peace.”

Before I can flick the fairy across the grove and into the tree trunk, the little man whirs over to Galinor. Dozens of lights have ventured closer, and we’re surrounded. “What item?”

“Eldentimber resin.”

A strange murmur passes through the crowd of lights, and it almost sounds like they are laughing at us.

They are nothing but a nuisance, these fairies.

He flits back to me, offering a mock bow before he flies into the branches. “For you, Princess, I will ask.”

“I hate fairies,” Archer says dryly.

One of the lights dive-bombs him, hitting him in the head. He jumps and says a string of curses that I suspect would be harsher if I were not here.

A golden light drifts from the tree, followed by an entourage of white. The light stops in front of me. The man would be very handsome if he weren’t the size of a bird. He crosses his arms, studying me, and hovers in the air.

“We will make a deal with you, fair Princess,” Brugpondam says. “You may have a token of resin if you can enchant us with your voice. One beautiful song for one piece of beautiful resin.”

Archer makes a choking noise.

I can’t sing.

Well, I can sing, but it most certainly won’t be enchanting.

Galinor gives me an encouraging smile, assuming, I’m sure, that all princesses sing like my mother or Leonora.

I have no choice but to try. I take a deep breath and decide on a piece Master Draeger assured me was coming along nicely. I start a little sharp, and I wince.

Now I’m too flat, so I adjust again. I close my eyes and concentrate on the song. When I finish, I feel a little out of breath from nerves. I open my eyes, hesitant to see how I’ve been received. Awestruck faces stare at me. It might not have gone too badly after all.

Then the laughter begins. For such small people, they can make quite a ruckus. Even Archer is holding back a smile. He snorts but controls himself when I glare at him. Galinor—well, he simply looks gobsmacked, the poor prince.

“I sang for you. Give me the resin,” I snap, holding out my hand.

More laughter.

“We had a deal!” I demand.

The king sobers, crossing his arms again.

“I asked for a beautiful song in exchange for a piece of beautiful resin. The resin is beautiful, yes. But the song…” He shrugs as if the matter is out of his hands.

I sweep down from Willowisp and place my hands on my hips. “Now you listen, you little insect—” I start and then suddenly stop when the forest begins to grow around me. I gasp, looking for something to grasp.

The king flashes me a wicked smile as he grows larger and larger until he is the same size as I am. I look to Archer and Galinor for help, but they have grown as well. They are huge, and they’re staring at me with twin helpless expressions.