he scratches you.”
Keelie knew that wasn’t true, but Risa didn’t.
Knot growled and opened his eyes.
Risa pulled her hand back. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, and Keelie wondered if there might be a flea charm in the pest section in the Compendium. To draw fleas, that is, not chase them away.
Grandmother finally appeared, on the path opposite the shop. She’d changed into an outfit with a wide dark green skirt, a pointy-waisted, tightly cinched matching bodice with a black velvet collar, and a brimmed hat that covered her silver hair. A long gold chain hung from her waist, a little golden acorn hanging from its end.
Keelie realized that her mouth was hanging open. She shut it and hurried forward, dodging the mundanes (the street-clothed members of the public) who filled the path.
“Good morrow, Keliel,” Grandmother said, bowing her head regally. Okay, that part was still normal.
“Good morrow to you, too, Grandmother.” Keelie bowed. Grandmother looked sharp. Keelie leaned forward and whispered, “What gives with the new garb? Did you buy it this morning?”
Grandmother beamed at her. “I did, indeed. I was speaking with Master Oswald at the Player’s Pub this morning and he suggested I wear something a little more in keeping with the Shakespearian theme. He has a little part he wishes me to play onstage, too.” She twirled, her skirt belling out around her. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful.” Great. Keelie was stuck running the shop while Grandmother was doing the Elizabethan version of the Shopping Channel and playing with the actors.
Grandmother eyed Keelie’s costume. “That boy’s garb isn’t becoming. Why don’t you buy something more in keeping with the festival?”
Keelie stared at her grandmother, torn between outrage because she’d been working nonstop to make money for the family while Grandmother fooled around instead of looking for the missing tree shepherd, and excitement at the thought of going shopping.
“I don’t have any money,” she said quickly.
Grandmother waved a hand airily and watched a family approach their shop. “Tell them to bill me. Now, what do we do when people come?”
Keelie hurried forward. “Good gentles, allow me to show you our wares.” She spent the next ten minutes answering questions about her father’s furniture, and the mother finally plopped her purse on the counter and wrote a check for a set of porch chairs. While Keelie made arrangements to ship them to their home, she noticed Grandmother speaking to a woman who was admiring a hall tree.
Moments later, Grandmother came running over. “Who is Lady Visa?”
“Ah, Lady Visa and Master Card. Our excellent friends,” Keelie said. “I’ll show you how to ring up purchases.”
It was three more hours before there was a lull in the festival traffic. Lunchtime was approaching, and the big crowds were now headed toward Pieman’s Green, where all the food vendors sold their wares. Keelie sat down behind the counter while Grandmother leaned against the back wall and fanned herself.
“If I sit, I may not be able to walk.”
“We just need a little rest.” Keelie nodded at a passing woman pushing a stroller. The baby wore a jester’s hat and was chewing thoughtfully on one of the four dangling points. The cute scene chilled Keelie, reminding her of creepy Peascod. Then her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d had no breakfast.
“Can you mind the shop while I go get lunch? I can bring you back a meat pie and a lemonade.”
Grandmother shuddered. “What manner of food is that?”
Keelie sighed. “Faire food. How about a turkey leg, then? Steak on a stake?” That last was not Keelie’s favorite—she’d had a bad experience working at Steak-on-a-Stake at the Wildewood Faire.
“Ah, sweet Lady Keliatiel. Madam, I have sought you long this morn.” A tall man with a beautiful silver beard bowed elaborately before them, showing off his slashed leather sleeves,
Keelie knew that wasn’t true, but Risa didn’t.
Knot growled and opened his eyes.
Risa pulled her hand back. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, and Keelie wondered if there might be a flea charm in the pest section in the Compendium. To draw fleas, that is, not chase them away.
Grandmother finally appeared, on the path opposite the shop. She’d changed into an outfit with a wide dark green skirt, a pointy-waisted, tightly cinched matching bodice with a black velvet collar, and a brimmed hat that covered her silver hair. A long gold chain hung from her waist, a little golden acorn hanging from its end.
Keelie realized that her mouth was hanging open. She shut it and hurried forward, dodging the mundanes (the street-clothed members of the public) who filled the path.
“Good morrow, Keliel,” Grandmother said, bowing her head regally. Okay, that part was still normal.
“Good morrow to you, too, Grandmother.” Keelie bowed. Grandmother looked sharp. Keelie leaned forward and whispered, “What gives with the new garb? Did you buy it this morning?”
Grandmother beamed at her. “I did, indeed. I was speaking with Master Oswald at the Player’s Pub this morning and he suggested I wear something a little more in keeping with the Shakespearian theme. He has a little part he wishes me to play onstage, too.” She twirled, her skirt belling out around her. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful.” Great. Keelie was stuck running the shop while Grandmother was doing the Elizabethan version of the Shopping Channel and playing with the actors.
Grandmother eyed Keelie’s costume. “That boy’s garb isn’t becoming. Why don’t you buy something more in keeping with the festival?”
Keelie stared at her grandmother, torn between outrage because she’d been working nonstop to make money for the family while Grandmother fooled around instead of looking for the missing tree shepherd, and excitement at the thought of going shopping.
“I don’t have any money,” she said quickly.
Grandmother waved a hand airily and watched a family approach their shop. “Tell them to bill me. Now, what do we do when people come?”
Keelie hurried forward. “Good gentles, allow me to show you our wares.” She spent the next ten minutes answering questions about her father’s furniture, and the mother finally plopped her purse on the counter and wrote a check for a set of porch chairs. While Keelie made arrangements to ship them to their home, she noticed Grandmother speaking to a woman who was admiring a hall tree.
Moments later, Grandmother came running over. “Who is Lady Visa?”
“Ah, Lady Visa and Master Card. Our excellent friends,” Keelie said. “I’ll show you how to ring up purchases.”
It was three more hours before there was a lull in the festival traffic. Lunchtime was approaching, and the big crowds were now headed toward Pieman’s Green, where all the food vendors sold their wares. Keelie sat down behind the counter while Grandmother leaned against the back wall and fanned herself.
“If I sit, I may not be able to walk.”
“We just need a little rest.” Keelie nodded at a passing woman pushing a stroller. The baby wore a jester’s hat and was chewing thoughtfully on one of the four dangling points. The cute scene chilled Keelie, reminding her of creepy Peascod. Then her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d had no breakfast.
“Can you mind the shop while I go get lunch? I can bring you back a meat pie and a lemonade.”
Grandmother shuddered. “What manner of food is that?”
Keelie sighed. “Faire food. How about a turkey leg, then? Steak on a stake?” That last was not Keelie’s favorite—she’d had a bad experience working at Steak-on-a-Stake at the Wildewood Faire.
“Ah, sweet Lady Keliatiel. Madam, I have sought you long this morn.” A tall man with a beautiful silver beard bowed elaborately before them, showing off his slashed leather sleeves,
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