Goblin Ball by L. K. Rigel Page A

practicing earlier. “And, my lady, they’ll never get dirty. The shoes will adapt to the little girl’s need. At the moment, they’re lovely baby slippers. But they’ll grow and change as Lady Lexi grows and changes. One day, walking shoes. Another day hiking boots. One night diamond stiletto heels fit for her first ball.”
    The humans sighed and smiled, thoughts of fairy tales writ large on their faces.
    “Notice the excellent workmanship,” Horace continued. “While Lady Lexi wears our slippers, she will always be the epitome of grace and decorum.”
    Morning Glory let loose a guffaw. She cried out, “Decorum, decorum, Hy Kokolorum!” and spun up into the air, tossing exploding fairy dust over the guests.
    Lexi laughed. Satisfied, Horace lost his scowl and flitted over to the refreshments table.
    The pixies were on their best behavior, sworn not to steal the leprechauns’ hats. So far so good, but anyone with an eye could see their resolve was weakening. They gave Lexi the ability to tell a good joke. Max grunted his approval and winked at Lily. Only a curmudgeon could object to that. He wasn’t ready to be called a curmudgeon yet.
    The wisps popped in, three together, and in unison whispered their gift. “Little Lady Lexi will hear lovely birdsong whenever she desires.”
    “How lovely,” Lily said.
    The brownies gave the ability to feel good cheer and find happiness in all things. While they were still accepting Cade and Lily’s thanks, someone in the back ostentatiously cleared his throat.
    “If I may be so bold.” Stepping forward, Prince Logan of the Edmos fae pushed a couple of leprechauns out of his way. He gave Cade and Lily a short bow while leering sideways at Queen Narcissus.
    Max stood up on his toes and surveyed the crowd. Where was Dandelion? Together they could haul the wanker out of here. Seriously, it might be worth unleashing a spell to get rid of the Scots tosser.
    “The Edmos fae give Lady Lexi grace and charm,” the fairy said. “Though the little lady may never need the extra boost if she takes after her lovely aunt.”
    Great-aunt, bounder. Max didn’t like this guy at all. He was ready to do something about it when a fairy of the Tuatha Dé Danaan leaped forward, joined by another, then another, nudging the Edmos fop out of the way. This could go well… or not. The three Irish were joined by three more, and Max shifted his focus, on the alert.
    Then the Irish fairies broke into a raucous céilí dance. The Dumnos fae shouted approval and quickly produced fiddle, drum, fife, and flute and more to accompany the wild gyrations of the Tuatha Dé Danaan .
    “Yeeah!”
    “Whooo!”
    Her other gifts already in working order, Lexi erupted in belly laughs to tickle the heart of the grumpiest goblin, and Max’s foot tapped in time to the tune. The dance ended abruptly, and amid the whistles and applause the strangest-looking of the dancers approached Lexi’s cot.
    “If you remember Ireland when you dance, darling girl, we wouldn’t mind at all at all, for a light step to match your sweet light heart is our gift to you.” He bowed low to the child, and she patted his blond curls.
    The six dancers turned as one and bent the knee to Cissa. “Good-bye, your majesty,” said their leader, and with respectful nods and twinkles in their eyes they popped out.
    When the fairy dust cleared, in the vacated spot, a woozy fairy stumbled and very nearly fell, but righted himself at the last moment.
    “Hmph,” Max grunted and glared at the treesap.
    The human who looked like Lydia Pengrith—but wasn’t—cried, “It’s you!”
    “Oh, dear.” Cissa was suddenly at Max’s side, her eyes huge and her hand on his shoulder, as if she would draw strength from him. “I didn’t think Aubrey would have the nerve to show up today.”
    Max wanted to reassure her, cover her lovely fingers with his own gnarly digits, and pat her hand tenderly. But he couldn’t defile such loveliness.
    Aubrey