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Abbigayle Grace's books on Goodreads
Elfboy Elfboy (The Pizza Shop Chronicles #1)
reviews: 4
ratings: 8 (avg rating 4.75)

Goblinprince Goblinprince (The Pizza Shop Chronicles #2)
reviews: 4
ratings: 5 (avg rating 4.20)

Winter in Deglendark Valley Winter in Deglendark Valley
ratings: 1 (avg rating 5.00)

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Fairyspells: 4th Chapter

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Chapter 4! Sorry it’s a bit short and late – still trying to get back into the swing of things. I’ll hopefully have another, longer one up on Monday. Thank you so much for reading!

Read Chapter 3 here if you missed it!

 

*****

Fairyspells (The Pizza Shop Chronicles #3)

Chapter 4: Corandor

Alastair had the red flag system installed and adopted seven years ago, after a goblin raid on the villages nearly resulted in the demise of his cousin, Prince Galbraith. There were four flags—long, pointed banners of bright red, one at each major settlement: the mountain villages, the forest caverns, the fairy castle, and, of course, the mountain castle. Whenever one was raised, it was the duty of anyone could see it to send help.

The villages had raised theirs a couple of times over the years. So had the forest and the fairies. But the mountain castle where King Alastair the Goblinslayer lived? Never. Even if the goblins ever did manage to get brave—or stupid—enough to attack, he ended it before help would’ve had a chance to get here. He literally used to hunt them. It was hard to imagine a goblin purposely going anywhere near him.

If I was right, this flag was causing as much of a stir everywhere as it was in the caverns. No one seemed capable of remaining calm for longer than two seconds besides Olond. And me.

Well, I was calm enough to argue with the captain until he let me join the company that would be marching out to the castle—on the condition that I stayed in the back. Since everyone knew of my hatred for Alastair, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep me as far away and safe from the battle as possible or as close to rear attacks as he could. Either way, it didn’t matter. We had five days worth of marching ahead. It didn’t seem likely we’d be in time to help anyone. At least, I didn’t think so.

I noted, with a gruesome satisfaction, as we climbed a hill in the road that every other flag on the white, many-towered mountain castle had been lowered to half-mast.

It seemed they were right. Alastair really had died—or somebody else nearly as important. I wanted to know now, of course, just how much I could count on gaining the Veldstone Crown. But there was no way to be absolutely certain until I saw a body. Or a grave or something like that—I didn’t actually want to see a body. Just confirmation.

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