Read Online The Water and the Wild by Katie Elise Ormsbee - Free Book Online Page B

our great-great-grandfather as a token of friendship. So don’t clutch it so hard, please. Oh, and be careful walking on the hall rug. It’s fine wisp-weaved, practically antique. I should’ve asked you to take off your shoes. You clomp so carelessly. I guess that’s a human trait.”
    Lottie was annoyed, but she said nothing. Mr. Wilfer was offering her a chance to save Eliot, after all, and she
was
a guest in Adelaide’s house.
    The guest bedroom was smaller than any of the other rooms that Lottie had seen, but it was still terrifyingly large for a bedroom, and Lottie had begun to suspect that perhaps she had shrunk during her bumpy tree ride here. The room’s vaulted ceiling towered over a lush-carpeted floor, and a marble fireplace yawned in one corner next to a big canopied bed.
    â€œFather said you might be coming one day soon,” Adelaide said, tugging down the bed’s duvet, “so I made some arrangements. You should sleep like a changeling.”
    She pointed out a neatly stacked pile of clothes. “Those are mine. They’ll be a little long on you,” Adelaide eyed down the good six-inch difference between her and Lottie, “but they’re still better than what you’ve got on.”
    Lottie did not particularly like having her wardrobe under attack. She put up with enough of those remarks from Pen Bloomfield without Adelaide’s contributions.
    â€œThat’s so
awfully
good of you,” Lottie said in a very awful way.
    Adelaide blew a puff of air through her lips and rolled her eyes.
    â€œIt was a thrill,” she said, sounding anything but thrilled. “There’s an adjoining bathroom just there, and if you need anything, I’m the next door down.”
    Lottie nodded, already certain that she would much rather do without something than ask her snotty hostess—who was
still
lingering in the doorway.
    â€œAll right, thanks,” said Lottie, hoping that Adelaide would take the hint and leave.
    But still Adelaide stood in the threshold, hard-faced.
    â€œLottie,” she said, the venom-sweetness gone from her voice, “do you really need that medicine?”
    â€œI told you I did,” said Lottie. “That’s the whole reason you brought me here, isn’t it?”
    Adelaide shook her head. “You don’t understand. Father hasn’t been making it for you. He’s been making it for someone else. Someone more important than you.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œKing Starkling,” Adelaide whispered, her voice chilled. “He’s the ruler of the sprites. Ruler of the Southerly sprites, that is—and they’re the only sprites thatreally matter. If Father gives the medicine to you instead of the king, he’ll be in the worst sort of trouble.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense,” said Lottie. “If some king wants it, then why would Mr. Wilfer tell me—”
    â€œBecause he’s a good person!” cried Adelaide. “And because you’re a Fiske.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” demanded Lottie. “What’s so fantastic about being a Fiske?”
    Adelaide wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you know?”
    Lottie shook her head. Adelaide sighed. Her eyes dropped, her shoulders slumped, and Lottie knew that she had won the argument. She just didn’t know what the argument had been about.
    â€œLook,” said Lottie. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. I just want to save Eliot. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
    Lottie thought this would make Adelaide happy. Instead, Adelaide stiffened.
    â€œFine,” she spat. “Go ahead and do it. Take the medicine. You’re so selfish!”
    With that, the door slammed shut. Lottie stared at it for a full minute. Numbness, like a worm, had inched into her ribs, coiled its way around them, and now prevented Lottie from feeling anything.
    She peered into the