The herb lady sat down in the chair opposite Keelie. Keelie glared at her and started to pick apart her muffin. She took a bite, starving but determined not to scarf it down in front of this woman.
"We weren't introduced earlier. I'm Janice. I think you know my daughter."
"Where is Raven today?"
"Tending my shop so that I can do some errands." She sipped her tea. "I knew who you were the minute you stepped into my shop. You look just like your dad. You smiled a little then."
"Your shop smelled nice," Keelie said.
"Thank you. You're welcome back any time. I heard your luggage didn't come in with your flight yesterday. Don't you hate that?"
Keelie dropped the muffin back onto the tray. "Yeah, and what can I do? I'm stuck with these stupid clothes like I'm stuck being here at this stupid fair."
Janice folded her arms. "It stinks, doesn't it? Being ripped away from the school and people you knew and loved and all of a sudden you're here. I lost my mother when I was sixteen. She died of cancer. I guess that's why I turned to herbs. I wanted to heal the world, but I couldn't forget the awful days in the hospital. No regular medical school for me."
Keelie's resolve to be surly thawed a little. "Yeah, well ...I just want my clothes." She wanted her mother back, too. She realized that she was mad. She was mad at Mom for dying, she was mad at Dad for showing up in her life now that Mom was gone, and she was mad at the world for moving forward when the most important person in the world was no longer here to say no to her.
"Zeke was so excited that you were coming. He kept telling everyone. We thought it would be next week, though. This Faire's almost over, and he thought you'd come closer to the end."
Janice didn't give up. Couldn't she tell that Keelie didn't want to have this conversation? If Janice wasn't leaving, maybe she could get some information out of her.
"So the Faire's almost over? What happens then?"
"Some of the workers are locals, and they do this for extra cash, for fun. For others, your father for instance, it's part of a circuit. There are Renaissance Faires all over the country, at different times of the year. Lots of the artisans and performers will head to another Faire after this one."
Surprised, Keelie wondered where they would be headed. And what about school? She'd been given her final grades, but what about next year? Maybe Dad was taking her to California. Wishful thinking. "Where will you go?"
"The big Faire in upstate New York. It's called Wildewood Faire. It lasts three months, and then winter comes, and some go south, others go home until the spring."
Keelie found herself eating her muffin. It was delicious. The fairy winkberries tasted like a mixture of strawberry and vanilla, and they burst in her mouth with sunshiny warmth. She sipped her tea. It tasted good, too, darn it.
"Keelie, go easy on your dad," Janice said. She hesi- rated, then added, "He was devastated by your mother's death."
Keelie's like-o-meter swung to extreme dislike. How dare she? She stood up. "I better get back to the shop. Zeke will want to know where I am." Yeah right, just like he'd missed her for the last fourteen years.
Janice pointed to her tray.
"Aren't you going to finish?"
"I've lost my appetite."
Now was the time to have a conversation with her father. And she needed to get back in case some of her luggage showed up, and before that evil feline could do something to it.
"See you around," Keelie said politely, and wrapped the rest of her muffin in a napkin, just in case. Janice smiled sadly, as if aware that she'd said something wrong.
Keelie stepped out of the tea shop and out onto the sun-dappled main pathway. The trees here were not old giants. Tall and slim, their leaves looked green and tender against the blue of the sky. She'd never been around so many trees before, but she hadn't had any weird episodes, except for this morning. She pushed the thought aside. It had been a coincidence.
She decided that she liked the trees. She raised her face to the sunlight, enjoying its warmth on her cheeks. She remembered reading about an enchanted forest in a fairy tale book, one that she'd only had for a little while. Mom had hated fairy tales, and now she could understand why. She'd always said that Dad lived in a fairy tale world, and Keelie believed it now. This place was unreal.
Keelie had been raised to be grounded in reality. Her feet were firmly planted, like the roots of a tree. She was Keelie Heartwood, an independent teenager who made her own decisions. Sort of. She touched the skirt over her belly. She was going to get her belly button pierced as soon as she could. Why wait? Mom couldn't stop her now.
And right now she would tell Zeke she was going back to California to live with her friend Laurie. She didn't believe that he wanted her here, that he bragged about her coming. He'd probably be happy to hear it. She could tell that she was cramping his lifestyle. She'd still be in California if Mom's will hadn't named him her guardian instead of Elizabeth. No one would have known any different.
If Zeke said no, she could sue for emancipation. She and Laurie had looked it up. She couldn't wait to talk to Laurie. Her cell phone was mucked up, but with a little cleaning it might work. If not, she'd use Zeke's phone and pay him back for the call.
The mud squished under her shoes. At least it wasn't pouring down rain like yesterday, and she had on clean underwear. Things were almost looking up. She walked by the herb shop, inhaling the woodsy aromas coming out of the shop. Janice the herb lady was still at the tea shop. Keelie hesitated. She wanted to go in and look. She itched to touch some of the dried herbs displayed in flowerpots. She wanted to crush them between her fingers and smell their scents.
"Do you want to go in and look around?" The round, frizzy-haired woman in the booth next door was stand ing by her door, holding yet another of those mugs that looked like Zeke's.
"No, thanks. I was just getting some fresh air. There's not much of it back in L.A."
"So I've heard." The woman smiled. "I'm Ellen, the potter." She lifted the mug. "These are mine."
"Oh. Everyone has one. I thought having one meant something."
"You mean like a special symbol?" Ellen laughed. "All it means is that I badgered them into buying one."
Keelie laughed. She liked Ellen.
Janice was coming up the path, carefully balancing her steaming mug. Her long skirts swung gently around her.
Keelie crossed her arms to cover her ugly bodice.
"Hello again, Keelie. I see you've met Ellen." Janice smiled. "Let Keelie pick out a mug, Ellen. It'll be a gift from me. An apology. I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did."
Keelie blinked. Like-o-meter readings rose steadily. An apology? She was being treated like an adult. "Thanks."
"Great! Come on in, kiddo, and pick one out." Ellen vanished into the little awning-shaded shed.
Keelie entered and sniffed. It smelled like raw clay, an art room smell that she'd always loved. Glass shelves lined the windows of the tiny shop, loaded with vases, cups, and funny little statues of dragons.
"I've got one I think you'll like," Ellen said. She pulled a green mug off the shelf. It wasn't the biggest one, but it had a leaf shape pressed into the side. She handed it to Keelie. "Look inside."
Keelie took the mug. It felt as if it belonged in her hand. She tipped it to look inside, and smiled. The bottom of the mug had a beaky-nosed face sticking out of it. The funny little creature was winking at her.
"How fun! I'll see this little guy whenever I finish my coffee, or whatever weird herb drink I'm allowed to have."
"That's the idea," Ellen said, ignoring Keelie's sarcastic drink remark. "Hand wash only. Not that you'll find a dishwasher anywhere around here."
Keelie laughed. "I'll bet." She lifted the mug to eye level and looked at the leaf more closely. "An oak leaf. I love it. This is perfect."
"Glad to hear it." Ellen turned suddenly, distracted. "Oh, my kiln's almost ready. If you'll excuse me, Keelie, I've got work to do."
"Sure.
" She caught herself before she offered to help. It would be fun to get her hands in the clay and make stuff. She poked a little dragon figure holding a crystal. She might as well have a little fun in the short time she was here. There were all kinds of mysterious shops in this place. And shopping was shopping.
Janice was waiting for her outside of her shop. A woman was inside and a couple in shorts was walking up the hill toward them. Tourist time.
Mundanes, Keelie reminded herself. Janice looked pretty in her purple gown. Maybe if Keelie had to stay here awhile, she could ask Janice for help with a better costume. She gave herself a mental pinch. Hello, Keelie? What was she thinking? Stay here in Weirdsville?
"Did you get a nice one?" Janice smiled at the green mug Keelie carried.
"Yes, thank you." She held it up for the herb lady to see.
"An oak leaf," she said, noting the figure on the side. "Why did you pick that one?"
Keelie shrugged. "I like leaves and trees." This was new. Trees used to be creepy.
"You are definitely your father's daughter," Janice said. She looked serious again. "And I'm sorry I said what I did, Keelie. It was none of my business."
Keelie shrugged. She didn't know how to respond.
"You plan on returning to Los Angeles?" Janice asked.
"As soon as possible. A friend of my mom's is willing to get custody of me if Zeke agrees, which I'm sure he will. As soon as she calls to check on me today, we'll be able to push through the arrangements. Everyone's been nice to me-" She thought of Knot and Elia the stuck-up princess wannabe. "Most everyone. But this place is not for me."
Janice frowned. "Are you sure you've given the Faire or your father a chance, Keelie? If you stay, you may discover things about yourself that you never knew were possible."
A chill went down Keelie's spine. She couldn't tell Janice that she was forgetting the sound of her mother's voice. That if she lived with Elizabeth and Laurie in L.A., her Mom would be with her that much longer.
"Yeah, well, I liked my life in L.A.," she said. "And if Zeke wants to get to know me, then he can come live there with me."
An odd expression crossed the woman's face. "He wanted to come see you, but he has to live among the trees."
This lady must be smoking some of her herbs, Keelie thought. "Yeah, whatever. IT see you around."
Despite her desire to explore the store, she'd stay away. Janice was pushing it with Keelie, and Mom was right. She'd never wanted her to explore plants, trees, and healing because she was afraid it would interfere with her education. Keelie smiled, remembering that Mom had never approved of her volunteering at the hospital with her Grandmother Jo, but Gran and Keelie did it anyway. She could play with herbs after college and law school.
She hurried away from the shop, as if even wanting to go in contaminated the dreams Mom had for Keelie. Farther down the hill, the sword shop was open, and Keelie looked at the different types of real swords that hung outside, tied to the display bar they hung on. Sean had worn a sword. Wasn't it dangerous for everyone to be armed?
Another store farther down the path caught her eye and she hurried over to it. The Dragon's Horde had a sign hanging from chains that said "Rocks and Crystals."
Maybe she'd find more pink quartz.
The shop seemed older than some of the other buildings. Carved posts held up the little roof over the front door, two dragons writhing up toward the slate roof tiles. She'd seen slate tiles in gardens before, but never on a roof. The inside was dark and cool, like a cave. Baskets and carved stone bowls held jewels and rocks of all sorts.
A deep voice asked, "May I help you?"
Keelie searched for the owner of the voice, but she couldn't find him. Then a little man stepped out from behind the counter. He had a curlicued mustache, and he was dressed like a swashbuckler from an old Hollywood movie, a tiny musketeer.
He removed his extravagantly feathered hat and bowed with a flourish. The feather kept bobbing long after he'd stopped. "Do I have the pleasure this day to meet a new member of the Muck and Mire Show Players?"
"Not on your life," she answered peevishly. This Muck and Mire Show thing was getting old. "I'm Keelie Heartwood."
"Ah," the small man said, twirling the ends of his mustache. "I should have figured that out. Must need some more coffee." He headed toward the back of his store. "It's the devil's own brew. Want some?"
Keelie was surprised. He was offering her coffee, not telling her that her father would disapprove. This was a first for Camp Loserville. "Yes, please. I take it with a little cream, if you have it."
"But of course. Sugar? No? Ah, well, you are probably sweet enough as you are."
She blushed, as if he were a handsome knight. What he lacked in height he made up for, triple-strength, in charm.
He took her new green mug and filled it from a delicate silver carafe with a cobalt blue glass insert. He poured thick cream into it from a matching creamer, then handed her mug back to her and waved her toward a pair of leather-topped stools.
She sat, then sipped. The coffee was strong and fragrant.
He gestured with a spoon. "Me, I like it very sweet, but no cream. My name is David Morgan, by the way. My friends call me Davey. Sir Davey, around here."
"How do you do, Sir Davey?" she said solemnly. He treated her like a grown up, with respect, and she believed in returning the favor.
"I am well, Lady Keelie." He sat on the stool opposite hers. A sip, an appreciative roll of his eyes, and then Sir Davey studied her.
"Ah, my dear. You don't mind if I call you my dear, do you? I'm older than I look. Ancient, practically."
"I don't mind," Keelie answered, smiling. Her smile muscles creaked, out of shape.
"Excellent. I saw what happened at the jousting field this morning. An unfortunate cat, that Knot. Quite a scene with Sir Oscar's war horse. He was very lucky."
"That crazy cat almost got himself smooshed," Keelie declared, rolling her rose quartz talisman between the fingers of her left hand.
"Yes, indeed. But don't expect him to be grateful to you for saving him."
Keelie slammed her mug down. "What? Me?"
Sir Davey smoothed his mustache. "I saw what I saw, my dear. So tell me, how long have you been practicing Earth magic?"
six
Confusion bubbled up inside Keelie. She closed her hand over her rose quartz. What had he seen? She hadn't done anything special. "Magic? As in David Copperfield? I'm afraid you've made a mistake. And I guess I have, too."
Sir Davey looked surprised. "In what way?"
"I thought you were normal. I can see you're just another one of these granola guys."
"Granola guys?"
"Yeah, fruits, flakes, and nuts. Thanks for the coffee, but I have to go."
Sir Davey put a hand up, but she'd seen the smile. So he thought she was funny, too? Well, ha on him. She was so out of here.
He didn't try to stop her as she walked toward the front of the shop.
Keelie started to step outside when Sir Davey called, "Watch out."
He'd grabbed her arm before she could step into the road. Keelie tried to wrench herself free, but his grip tightened.
She formed a fist and pulled her arm back. If the short dude didn't let go, she was going to pound him on his large hooked nose.
The reverberating boom of horses' hooves thundered, echoing from around the bend in the path. She stepped back out of the main path into the doorway of the shop. The dwarf's grip relaxed, and she jerked her arm free.
Armored knights rode by on their majestic steeds, the sound of their mounts' hooves punctuated by the percussive bang of steel against steel as their armor rattled. Some plate armor shone like silver, others were dulled, or scuffed, like pots that had been scrubbed too often. One rider wore black and gold, and he carried a green banner with a silver lion emblazoned on it. Keelie sucked in her breath, impressed by the sheer power of the horses and knights.
For a few seconds, she was willing to sus
pend reality and pretend she was in Camelot waiting for her Knight of the Roundtable to return from his quest.
She watched as the last rider rode by. As he passed the doorway, the horse splattered mud on them. She brushed away the cool dollops of dirt from her arms and sighed. She was doomed to be mucked up for the rest of her time here.
Sir Davey removed his hat and stared at it sadly. It was dotted with flecks of mud and little clods of dirt. Fortunately, the feather came through unscathed. "Bloody pretentious hooligans, endangering everyone with their galloping around."
One of the jousters wheeled around and returned, slowing his horse to a walk. Then horse and rider stopped right in front of her. The knight removed his helm, and Keelie's chest tightened. Sean. She hadn't recognized his armor without the green and black cape.
Sean tilted his head to the right, smiling down at her. His hair slipped away from his ear and she noticed that it was pointed, like the elves in the The Lord of the Rings movie. Was he wearing a prosthetic as part of the show?
She fingered the upthrust end of her right ear. She'd always kept it covered, but here it seemed to be a desireable birth defect.
"I like your curls, Keelie." His green eyes were as dark as evergreens.
Keelie stood like a blockhead, unable to utter a single word. Had he seen it?
Sir Davey stepped outside holding a rapier pointed toward Sean. "Be off, varlet. She's not for the likes of you."
Heat crept up Keelie's neck. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
"Sir Davey, please." She glanced up at Sean. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the little musketeer.
"And has the lady appointed you her protector?" asked Sean.
"No, but Zekeliel Heartwood, her father, wouldn't want her around the likes of you."
She wished she could smack Sir Davey on the head to silence him. Keelie stepped closer to Sean's horse.
"I don't really know him," she said. "We just met. He doesn't speak for me."
Sean's dazzling grin made the dimples on the left side of his cheek pop out. She yearned for him to reach out with his hand and pull her up on his horse, then gallop away with her. It would be so romantic. Instead, Sean placed his helm on his head, then lifted the visor.
The Tree Shepherd's Daughter Page 7
