Shadows of the Redwood by Gillian Summers Page B

enjoying the moment, as Oswald escorted Keelie into her shop.
    Keelie cocked her thumb toward the road. “Hit it. Go on, Risa. You’re not a part of this.”
    Master Oswald frowned at Risa. “Tend your cart, lass. Curiosity killed the cat.”
    At the word cat, Risa’s eyes widened and she looked around frantically. “Where’s Knot? Oh my beloved kitty, where are you?”
    She ran outside, looking for him. Scott had picked up the remaining sandwiches and was now eating alone and looking miserable on a chair in front of his shop. Sean was nowhere to be seen.
    Master Oswald cleared his throat. “You know your lady Grandmother is helping us by playing Queen Elizabeth at the theater?”
    Keelie’s mouth dropped open. “Is that why she has a new costume?” Little part, indeed.
    “We’ve invited her to play the Queen throughout the run of the festival. She’s a natural.”
    Keelie stared at the big man, dismayed. “The whole festival? I can’t run this shop alone.” And she couldn’t search for Viran as often, either.
    “Nor will you. Peascod has volunteered to help you.”
    “Oh, no. No need. I think I can manage.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Keelie nodded emphatically, and Master Oswald bowed and backed out of the shop. The shop that she now had to run by herself.
    Under the counter, Knot lifted his face from the remains of the meat pie that he’d snagged. Keelie didn’t mind. She’d lost her appetite.

“Here ye, here ye. The play begins at the stroke of six bells.” A town crier yelled. He wore a big green poofy hat that matched his doublet and hose. “Hie thee to the Globe, good gentles.”
    People began to stream out of the shops near Heartwood. Several patrons stumbled out of the Queen’s Alehouse. The din of loud conversation filled the air as the costumed crowd followed the crier. Each day was to begin and end with a Shakespearean play at the Globe. Today’s evening performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream would be performed by the professional actors, with the vendors helping out.
    Keelie glanced around Heartwood, glad that the shop was empty and that it was time to close. She was tired, but she wanted to watch the performance. She started to put away the cash box and receipt book.
    Scott waved to her from Tudor Turnings. He had one last customer in his shop, a woman hemming and hawing over a chair. Keelie wasn’t going to say anything to Scott, but she thought the quality of his pieces wasn’t up to Heartwood standards. She hoped he wouldn’t mention the confrontation with Sean next time they talked. She’d flirted a little, yes, but this was the real world, not some Shakespearian tragedy. Men didn’t start fights over meat pies and sandwiches.
    Keelie ran her hand along the counter. The heavy Compendium she was supposed to be studying rested on a shelf beneath it. The board was barely strong enough to hold it. She ignored the ominous bend in the middle of the board and would continue to ignore it, at least until her guilt at not getting her charms memorized grew as heavy as the book. She was always good at cramming, though. How hard could it be to study a few little spells? Make that a few hundred spells.
    Risa had packed up her cart and left for the Globe earlier in the afternoon, since she had a costume fitting. She was to be one of Queen Titania’s backup handmaidens. This would give her something to feel superior about without actually adding to her workload. Typical.
    The laughter from the Queen’s Alehouse proved to be two women, one dressed in a cerulean blue overdress who lifted her skirts delicately as she stepped down from the deck and onto the road. Her friend, wearing a maroon velvet Francesca costume, laughed as she held up a pewter tankard. Beads of condensation dripped down its sides and onto her skirt. Knot walked beside the woman, tail held high as if he were her escort. He leaned a little to the left and teetered. The cat had been hitting the mead again, Keelie knew. Maybe