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hours, maybe even longer. "My mom'll be psychoballistic."
    "No point worrying about what can't be helped," Balthazar told me jovially. "Plenty o' time to deal with that later."
    "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who'll be grounded until you turn forty."
    He laughed annoyingly. "I'll wager that when you get home, you'll find your mum less worried than you thought she'd be. So wave to the folk, girl! Show some manners!"
    I shut my mouth and waved, hating him silently.
    A long, bumpy ride later, the landscape began to change. The houses clustered closer together, gradually forming a sprawling storybook village. The dirt road sprouted cobblestones. I waved to the mostly male leprechauns
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    pouring into the streets and was greeted by a roar of "Greeeeeeeeen!"
    "That's the way!" Balthazar said, waving wildly himself.
    Ahead of us in the village, green streamers festooned the streets and swung in the breeze between crooked town-homes. Our cart moved forward through throngs of leprechauns waving hats, handkerchiefs, and handfuls of clover arranged like bouquets. At the center of town, where the buildings crowded close enough to bump into each other, the dogs took a sharp left down a new lane, one with a human-sized house at its end.
    The thatched one-story cottage dwarfed the leprechaun houses, its little square of front lawn starting at the last row of cobblestones. I scrambled out of the wagon as the lower half of the cottage's green front door opened and three female leprechauns filed out.
    The woman in front was obviously the oldest, with streaks of white in her greenish blond hair. The buckles on her shoes were shaped like oversized silver bows, and the curved feathers pinned to her hat were nearly as long as she was. The woman behind her had a flounce on her coat and a bouncy step to match. And the last of the group was a teenager with waist-length hair and a shy, eager glint in her wide green eyes.
    "Welcome, Lilybet!" the oldest one called. "It took you
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    long enough," she scolded in an aside to Balthazar. "Where have you been? Touring the whole countryside soaking up your five minutes of glory?"
    "Well, now, Bronny," he replied uncomfortably. "We had a few unexpected hiccups."
    "You know the banquet is tonight! Yet here you are, as late as dawn after a nightmare, barely giving us time to get ready at all!"
    "Can we talk about this later?" he begged.
    "Aye. That we will," she promised before bowing her head to me. "Your sister Bronwyn," she said. "Welcome, Lilybet."
    The other two women dropped curtsies behind her.
    "Kate," said the second in line.
    "Your sister Lexie," the youngest one ventured. "'Tis an honor, Lilybet."
    "Well, come in, girl. Come in!" Bronwyn said, herding me toward the door. "Your banquet starts in a few hours, and we've got fixing up to do before then." She shook her head disapprovingly. "More fixing than I'd expected."
    "I don't usually dress this way," I said, cringing under her scrutiny. "And what happened to my hair was not my fault."
    "No, I daresay it wasn't," she agreed. "Menfolk! Well, come along, Lilybet. The four of us will set things right."
    The cottage's front door was farmhouse-style, with upper and lower halves. The leprechaun women walked
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    inside through the open bottom section. Without a single glance back at Balthazar, I opened the door's top half and followed them in.
    Half-burned green candles sat on ledges around every wall. A lumpy-looking bed lay beneath a comforter next to a tall cupboard. The room's center held a square table surrounded by three tall stools with ladder-rung legs and a normal, human-sized chair. But the most surprising feature was a claw-foot iron bathtub half hidden behind a wooden screen. Curling steam rose from its water, scenting the air with cloves.
    "Dive in," Bronwyn offered, following my gaze. "We're going to have tea, but that can wait." She wrinkled her small nose. "We'll probably enjoy it more after you've had a wash anyway."
    That seemed