The Earl's Childe

Copyright © 2014 by T. J. Wooldridge

Sale of the paperback edition of this book without its cover is unauthorized.

Spencer Hill Middle Grade

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
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First Edition: December 2014.

Wooldridge, T. J. 1978
The Earl's Childe : a novel / by T. J. Wooldridge - 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary:
Summoned as liaison between humans and faerie, an 11-year old girl is informed by the fey nobles that a creature more dangerous than her kelpie is claiming rights to MacArthur lands.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this fiction:
American Idol
, BlackBerry, Biscoff, Criss Angel, Disney, Facebook, Ford F-250, The History Channel, Jeep, Jiminy Cricket, Marmite,
Men in Black
, Nutella, Superman, Swarovski, Swiss Army, Velcro, Vicodin

Cover design by Slake Saunders

Interior layout by K. Kaynak

ISBN (paperback) 9781939392435
ISBN (e-book) 9781939392442

Printed in the United States of America

The Earl's Childe

T. J. Wooldridge

Cast of Characters

Heather Marie MacArthur
—I'm the one telling the story. And trust me, sometimes
I
can't keep all these people straight!

My Immediate Family

Michael MacArthur
and
Aimee MacArthur
are also known as “Dad” and “Mum.”

Rowan MacArthur
is my next-younger brother.

Ivy
and
Ash MacArthur
are my youngest sister and brother; they are twins.

Lily MacArthur
is my older half-sister.

Rose Bujoirnais MacArthur
is my oldest sister, whom Dad adopted.

And there's also
Hunter Milan
, who is Rose's fiancée.

The Royal Family

Prince Joseph
is my best friend and either third or fourth in line to the throne. I think.

Prince Christopher
is Joe's dad and definitely second in line. That much I know because it's in all the papers.

Princess Maryan
is Joe's mum who's from Bahrain, but swore allegiance to England so she could marry Prince Christopher.

Princess Annette
is Joe's sister, next-oldest to him, and likes being called “Annie.”

Prince Richard
is Joe's youngest brother.

Prince Albert
is Prince Christopher's younger brother.

Other Important People

The
McInnis family
is originally from Ireland. Now they live on the castle property and they are in charge of keeping it up.

Mr. Jack McInnis
is in charge of all the outdoor castle stuff, like the farm and garden

Mrs. Marie McInnis
runs everything that goes on inside the castle.

Miss Eliza McInnis
is the Mcinnis' daughter who works at the castle. She is second-in-charge to her mum.

Mickey McInnis
is the McInnis' son who takes care of our farm animals.

Ginny Roberts
is Mum and Dad's assistant who keeps all of our schedules mostly sane.

Anita Cano
is our nanny, who I'm way too old for, but who cares for all of us. Even Mum and Dad, sometimes.

Jonathan
is Joe's immediate bodyguard, the
nice
one.

For Mom and Dad,
for all the love, support, and good parenting

CHAPTER

1

A kelpie is not a horse. A kelpie is not a horse. A kelpie is NOT A HORSE!
A kelpie is a pain in my…

My chore after dinner is to feed my kelpie.

A kelpie, if you don't know, is a carnivorous faery horse. Before I accidentally gave him a piece of my soul, this particular kelpie had killed two kids near the old castle my family and I lived in and had almost killed another family friend, six-year-old Sarah Beth Garrity. Feeding such a monster consists of dumping a bunch of stinky fish into his trough or chasing chickens or peafowl into his pen so he can kill them.

We won't even get into manure duty. It redefines “EWWWW!”

It was about a week after we “captured” him when Mum stopped me on the way out the door. “Heather?”

“Yeah?” I turned to face her as she leaned on her office door.

“Why don't you actually do something with Ehrwnmyr tonight? After you feed him?” “What…what do you mean?”

“Do something with him,” she repeated. “Even if it's just basic exercises in the round pen.”

My lips twitched. I didn't answer right away.

“How do you expect to change him into something good if all you do is feed him? Have you even tried grooming him?”

“He's not…like a regular horse,” I protested, but knew she was right. I was now his guardian. If I had a good soul, I had the power to make the kelpie good. To make him not a monster. I was told this by Lady Fana and Lord Cadmus, the “ruling” daoine síth, or fey nobility, who lived in a part of Faerie that overlapped my family's land when I “consulted” with them after we captured the kelpie.

I hoped my soul was good enough…

“He doesn't even have proper fur. It's like…little tentacle thingies.”

Mum leaned back in her chair, arms folded, and waited. And waited.

I sighed. “I suppose I could just ask him about brushing his fur and exercise and stuff. It's not like he won't share his opinion.”

Mum chuckled. “You want me to check on you in about an hour?”

Actually, I kind of did want her to check on me. I knew Ehrwnmyr was bound, so he couldn't ever hurt me…but still. “You've got a deadline, and you have sleep-away horse camp planning to do.”

“And a headache from both. I'm gonna finish a few more emails, and I'll meet you down at the round pen, 'kay?”

“Sure.” Biting my lip, I gave her a half-smile. “Thanks,

Mum.”

“Hurry up. He's still an animal, so I'm sure he thinks he's
starving
to death or something.”

As I approached Ehrwnmyr's stable—we couldn't keep him anywhere near the other horses—I squinted to make out his form against the lapping water that filled half his paddock.

He lay perfectly still on his side, hooves touching the water's edge. At first glance, he just looked like a wiry, black draft horse—all black, with a greenish, slimy tinge, so he always looked wet. He was tall when he stood, but not quite as bulky as my Mum's Percheron cross, nor as slender as Dad's thoroughbred. Up close, or when he was
not
impersonating a real horse by using a glamour illusion, you could see the differences. His face was more pointy and angular, his mane and tail looked like waterweeds, his eyes glowed, and he had a mouthful of shark-like teeth. Oh, and his “fur” was like tiny, wriggling, silken worms that gripped like Velcro! There was nothing very “horsey” about him at all.

Currently, he wasn't doing much to make himself look horsey. I didn't sense any of his thoughts in my head, either, and it was usually a chore to keep them out, with this whole soul-sharing thing. I just felt this droning buzz in the back of my mind as I approached.

Part of me became worried. Was he all right? Had I waited too long to feed him? But another part of me, a part that made me feel massively horrible, felt hopeful that he maybe was… dead…and I wouldn't have to be his soul-keeper anymore.

Don't feel too terrible
.

I knew the disembodied voice was him speaking inside my brain. I could see the ribs on his prone body rising and falling as I got closer. Then his tail twitched.
You know how I feel about “belonging” to you humans. It's merely a better choice than death
.