Page 2 of The Beauty and the Griffin

While a tall boy in uniform escorted us to the lift, I tugged at my aunt’s sleeve. “Is Mr. Sten a dwarf?”

Auntie nodded, laying one finger over her mouth. “We’ll talk later,” she whispered as we stepped inside.

The boy heard us and grinned at me when Auntie wasn’t looking. I grinned back. The lift rose silently and smoothly—more magic, I could tell. When it reached the top floor and the door slid open, I met the direct gaze of a creature with an eagle’s head and wings but the body of a lion. It was a statue, of course, yet it seemed to recognize me. I hurried over to stroke its head. “Hello! Were you waiting for me?”

“Come along, Beatrice. The statue will still be there tomorrow.”

I gave it one last pat, whispered, “We’ll chat later!” and then hurried to obey.

Our suite had the best view anyone could imagine—one wall was nearly covered in windows. While Auntie tipped the nice boy, I hurried over to drink in our view of the lake shimmering with reflected starlight.

When Auntie joined me at the window, I said, “It’s wonderful.”

“This place sort of embraces you, doesn’t it?”

I nodded eagerly. “Does everyone feel this way when they come here?”

“What way?”

“Like it’s been waiting for me.”

Her brows twitched upward as her lips twitched sideward. “Indeed!” She sounded pleased. “But tonight, we must eat something—I’ll call room service—and then get some sleep. You’ll have a busy morning, choosing which activities you’d like to join this week.”

Arabella

As soon as my grandniece—actually my great-great-grandniece—was asleep, I dropped in to visit my partner in crime at her tropical-island hideaway located in Faraway Lake. Pukai had promised to be accessible during the full two weeks of my holiday with Beatrice since she had nearly as much at stake in the situation as I did. Her third husband was a kind though absent-minded scientist, nothing like the first arrogant boor she’d married after being betrothed to him as a child or the power-hungry charmer she’d married next. They’d both come to entirely deserved bad ends. Arranged marriages, in my experience, seldom result in happy families. The youngest of Pukai’s four daughters was almost exactly Beatrice’s age, yet the two were unlikely ever to meet. Which was rather sad.

I’ve never been a swimmer, so my becoming friends with a siren would seem unlikely—not that Pukai or I have ever respected the odds. Back in the day, we were ridiculously competitive when it came to magic and thoroughly disliked one another for personal reasons, but once we both got sucked into the Crisis—our euphemism for possibly the most ill-advised magical feat ever attempted—everything changed. There’s nothing quite like sharing responsibility for the Crime of the Previous Century to bring rival enchantresses together.

For greatest privacy, I chose to arrive inside her conference cave that night instead of on the beach. “Pukai?”

“Bella!”

We embraced, then each took a step back. Pukai, queen of a vast ocean kingdom in the South Dynamic Ocean, was as stunningly gorgeous as ever in her human form. “You look well,” I forced myself to give that much of a compliment.

“You look ancient,” she replied, arching one perfect brow. “I will never understand why you refuse to disguise your age. Afraid to compete with me?”

I had to laugh. “I was never in your league.”

“You always have undersold your beauty and oversold your magic.”

I rolled my eyes, but she was possibly right on both counts. “You know why we’re here: Beatrice is seven years old.”

“Finally! I’m here for you, girl. What’s the plan?”

2

BEATRICE

I expected to betoo excited to sleep, but the next thing I knew, it was morning. I washed my face, braided my hair, and dressed before Auntie showed up in the main room, yawning.

“Good morning.” She approved my appearance in a glance. “I forgot to request morning coffee. Ah, well.”

I pressed my nose and hands to one of the picture windows, fascinated by the glittering lake that now reflected snow-topped mountains. I fully expected to see a dragon or two, and maybe a knight in shining armor. That train of thought somehow produced a question: “Who are the tiny brown people I saw last night?”

“Brownies.” Auntie Bella sounded pleased. “They live and work in Faraway Castle because they enjoy cooking, cleaning, and serving above all things. Non-magical guests, who either cannot or choose not to see the magic in our world, believe their meals appear and their rooms are cleaned by magic. In a way they’re correct, but the browniesarethe magic. You might get to speak with one at breakfast.”

I whipped around to beam at her. “Ooh, I hope so!”

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