Into the Wildewood (23 page)

“I stopped the Red Cap, didn’t I?” The murderous little creature had almost killed Sir Davey.

“We were lucky, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll win the next time it happens. So please, Keelie, stay out of the woods.”

Keelie had been ready to yell at him again, but she stopped. Fine. She’d stay out of the woods. For now. But the next time the unicorn called her, she would go.

Dad’s leaf-green eyes looked glazed. She hugged him. “We’ll talk about it later.” She’d do what she had to do. “I know you were sick yesterday, and you’re not looking so good.”

He hugged her back. “I’ll be fine. Just tired. I’m not looking forward to this meeting. I think I may drink some of Davey’s coffee.”

Shocked, Keelie couldn’t believe that Dad would even consider drinking coffee. He must be on the verge of exhaustion.

“Well, hello, Laurie.” Dad was looking over her shoulder.

Keelie turned around and saw Laurie standing at the RV’s door, wearing jeans, and—Keelie couldn’t believe it—Keelie’s Vampire Girl shirt, the one she’d bought with her own money at La Jolie Rouge. “What are you doing with my shirt?”

“I found it. Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” Laurie stepped down and turned to model it.

She was going to kill Laurie. That shirt had been neatly folded in a suitcase, tucked away where Knot couldn’t find it, which meant Laurie had been digging through Keelie’s stuff. “You have mountains of new clothes, so why are you poaching on mine?”

“Your clothes are new to me. Come on, girlfriend, you and I always share clothes. What’s the diff?”

The “diff ” was that thanks to Knot, her fashionable clothes could fit in a Ziploc bag, and now Laurie was wearing part of Keelie’s pathetic little fashion stash. But Keelie let it drop. Laurie was staring at her dad as if he were about to cut her head off.

“Are you going to make me go home?” Laurie looked like she was used to adults discussing her as if she were a traveling piece of luggage, to be shipped to whoever would take her. Earlier, Keelie would have been on her side, but that shirt made her think it would do Laurie some good to sweat it out.

“You may remain with us, but you will have to obey my rules, the same rules that Keelie has to follow.” Dad looked grim.

Laurie exhaled, obviously relieved. “I will. I’ll follow your rules to the letter. Thanks for letting me stay.”

Keelie was glad Laurie was staying, but they had to talk about her rules, too. Keelie would never violate her friend’s privacy. They’d shared clothes and secrets in the past, but those had been freely given, not taken. She had to establish parameters with Laurie, especially if she was going to help the unicorn. Balancing magic with real life was tough.

“Today’s my first day of the Faire, so what are we doing?” Laurie rubbed her hands together.

Annoyed, Keelie noted how quickly her friend had shifted from acting like the repentant teen to being a resort guest expecting to be entertained. “This is not Club Medieval.”

“Keelie has to go to the Administration building to meet with Finch, the Faire director. Keelie has a job, whereas you, Laurie, will have a chaperone to escort you around Wildewood.”

“Chaperone?” Laurie rocked back in her Converse sneakers as if she were going to faint.

“Who’s going to chaperone her?” Keelie asked, equally horrified. “Knot?”

“Your
cat
?” Laurie had a
can this get any worse?
look on her face.

“Me,” answered a voice Keelie hadn’t heard in weeks. “I got in late last night, and got recruited by Sir Davey to babysit some kid first thing this morning.”

Keelie spun around and, to her delight, found herself face to face with her friend Raven. Shrieking with glee, she ran to hug her.

Raven was dressed in full gothic Renaissance couture, like a Goth fairy queen. She wore a shiny vinyl bodice, which emphasized her trim figure and looked sleek against the soft white of her off-the-shoulder blouse. Her ruffled black skirt cascaded down into red-trimmed scalloped edges, which were pulled up on one side and tucked into the skirt’s waistband to show off her black-edged, white-ruffled petticoat and velvety black-suede boots.

Raven laughed, hugging Keelie tightly to keep her from jumping up and down. “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m glad to see you, too. But I have to tell you, I’m not one bit happy about being here. My God. Who gets up this early in the morning?” Raven pressed her hand to her head as if she suffered from a hangover. She took her hand away and batted her eyelashes, making it obvious that she was just fooling around. She grinned at Laurie. “And you must be the famous Laurie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Nice to meet you, I think.” Laurie looked to Keelie for help.

“I heard you girls snuck out to Rivendell. I’m impressed. But you know the party doesn’t start without me.“ Raven snapped her fingers and struck a pose.

Dad cleared his throat. “Let’s not encourage them.”

Raven nodded as if in agreement. “Of course, Zeke.” She winked at Keelie. “But you owe me.”

Keelie was suddenly in heaven. The two girls she cared for most in the world, and they were right here with her. She would love to go to the Faire, and just be carefree and have a great time. But she couldn’t. She had a job, and she had a unicorn to save, not to mention the trees.

Dad furrowed his eyebrows. “Right. Girls, I have eyes and ears all around the Faire—and in the meadow.” He said this while staring directly at Laurie, who seemed oblivious to Dad’s
this means you
gaze because she was too busy gawking at Raven. He gave Keelie a stern look, then gave up and headed toward the parking lot.

“Be careful, Dad.” He’d told her to trust no one, and she wanted to give him the same warning. The meeting with Lord Niriel sounded unfriendly.

He waved. “I will.”

Laurie didn’t notice that he’d left. Her eyes were still glued on Raven. “I love your outfit, Raven. Where did you get it?”

“I bought this at the Francesca booth by the front gates,” Raven replied. “It’s from their Dark Ages collection. You have to be a real badass to pull off the look. Sorry, babe, you’re too blonde to do that.”

Laurie gasped. “I can wear black.”

“Tell you what, we’ll hit Francesca’s and see what works for you.”

“What? You’re going shopping without me?” Keelie would be slaving away while her two best friends went shopping together. They were going to need her to be a referee, especially at the Francesca booth. Totally unfair.

“It sucks that you have to go to work.” Raven looked sympathetic. “But welcome to the real world.”

“I’ll miss you.” It didn’t look like Laurie really meant it, but even the fake sympathy made Keelie feel a little better. “Yeah, I’ll be busy with whatever kind of torture the Faire dragon has for me today.”

Raven grinned at her. “Don’t pout. You have to work because you went shopping first, right? I heard about your designer boots. What possessed you? You have your mom’s boots and the ones my mom gave you at the High Mountain Rennie. It wasn’t like you needed another pair.”

“I don’t know.” Keelie shook her head. “They were so gorgeous that I couldn’t resist.”

Laurie’s excitement grew. “You bought designer boots here? Do they have any left? Where?”

“In the Faire.” Keelie wondered if she could keep Laurie from finding out about Lady Annie’s. Laurie’d just whip out her credit card, and then she’d have a pair, too.

“Sometimes impulse buys come back to bite you in the ass, don’t they?” Raven said, grinning. Then, as if they’d exhausted the subject of Keelie’s boots and job problem, she turned to Laurie. “Hey, do you belly dance?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“Good, I can introduce you to Rhiannon Rose. I really don’t want to spend the day just shopping. Maybe Rhiannon can give you some belly dancing lessons or something.”

Keelie glowered. Laurie had never said anything about wanting to learn how to belly dance when they were at Baywood together. Besides, belly dancing was what she and Raven did together. Not Laurie and Raven. Just thinking of their names together made her feel miserable.

“Rhiannon is performing later at the Fletcher’s Row stage, and she’s totally awesome. You’ll love her.” Raven noticed the glare Keelie was aiming at her and grinned even more widely. “Don’t be a baby, Keelie. We’ll stop by to see you wherever you’re working. Once you’ve paid for your boots, you can have fun, too. I have to work and pay for my own stuff. Mom says it builds character.”

Laurie shrugged. “My mom isn’t into building character; she just gives me her credit cards.”

“Oh, come on, California, around here characters are just assumed personas. Maybe you can buy one.” Raven swept her hand toward the Faire, its colorful flags and pointed tower tops visible through the trees. “And if you give me any grief, I’ll arrange for you to be a volunteer at the Grime and Slime Show.”

Laurie looked aghast. “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds awful.”

The RV’s door opened and Sir Davey stepped down, holding onto the door for balance. “Still here? Oh, it’s Raven come for breakfast.”

“Hi, Sir Davey. Got any coffee? If I don’t have some soon, I’ll be crankier than Finch.”

“Speaking of Finch, I came out to tell Keelie that it’s time to get to Admin.” Davey vanished into the RV again.

Keelie knew she needed to concentrate on working off the cost of her boots. She couldn’t lose another job, no matter how jealous she was of Raven and Laurie’s friendship. Time to face the dragon.

nineteen

The Admin building was bursting with activity. Keelie pushed past the people coming and going in the narrow, carpeted hall leading to the costume fitting room. Finch’s office was empty, but Keelie heard her voice echoing above the din. A man was yelling back. The smell of pickle brine permeated the hall.

Keelie entered the fitting room, then stopped, astonished. It was the man who had made Lulu so furious last week. He was a walking fashion disaster. Someone should be arrested for letting him wear his revealing hose so tight, not to mention the hideous green poet’s shirt. He was suicidal, too. He was right in Finch’s face, gesticulating dramatically.

“I need help,” he yelled. He looked like a tall leprechaun with his ruddy complexion, strawberry blond hair, and big bushy mustache. “My second Dilly in two weeks, and she’s sick. I can’t have a barfing Dilly. I need help, I tell you!”

He needed help with his costume. Or better yet, he needed to buy the
Buns of Steel
DVD, because his tights exposed his disgusting cottage-cheese butt dimples. Keelie turned away before she got totally grossed out. The Renaissance fashion police should outlaw hose and codpieces.

She forgot about him when she saw Lord Niriel at the far end of the room. He must be here to talk with Finch about the jousters. But he was leaning comfortably against the wall, ignoring the drama, his attention on the clipboard in his hands. Even in the daylight Lord Niriel looked young, almost as young as Sean. All of the elves had that ageless quality, but he blended into the human world even more easily than Dad.

He wore a polo shirt tucked into jeans. His long, sandy brown hair was tied back with a brown ribbon, but loose enough to cover his elven ears. He had a businesslike, efficient air about him, nothing like his son’s blond, relaxedsurfer look.

Keelie blushed when his gaze caught hers, and she turned away when his glance turned to questioning scrutiny. She needed to talk to him about Sean’s missing letters, but she wouldn’t be able to once Finch saw her. Lord Niriel was about to find out that she was the Jill-of-the-Faire, and he’d probably overhear whatever Finch had in store for her. What if Elia had already told him about her job fiascoes? This would be a great time to be anywhere else.

Finch caught sight of her and motioned with her hand. “Heartwood, over here.” She was still almost nose-to-nose with the oversized leprechaun—who was having a conversation with himself because Finch wasn’t listening to him.

Warning shivered through Keelie’s body as she looked from Finch to the green nightmare. No. Life couldn’t be that cruel. Her luck couldn’t be that bad.

“Keelie, this is Sir Brine of Cucumberton. You may be just the person that he needs to play his assistant, Dilly of the Dale.”

Brine. The green suddenly made sense, and she remembered the path strewn with mutilated pickles and the poor girl pushing the cart after him. The Pickle Man. Oh God, she was going to work for the Pickle Man. Her feet seemed frozen to the hardwood floor.

She dreaded the reaction if Raven and Laurie saw her working with Sir Brine. At least neither of them had witnessed the Plumpkin fiasco or the Steak-on-a-Stake disaster. Laurie would go back to school and tell all of their friends at Baywood Academy that Keelie had a job as a pickle vendor. How humiliating. Finch pursed her lips and rubbed her hand against her temple as Sir Brine of Cucumberton talked. Maybe Plumpkin would come out of retirement.

Then Finch pointed to Keelie, and the Pickle Man turned toward her. He looked her up and down, then sneered and shook his head. “I need a strong worker. This skinny kid can’t push the cart.”

Keelie sighed with relief. Okay, give the guy some credit. He knew by looking at her that they wouldn’t work well together.

Finch lifted her hands as if to say “that’s it, take her or leave her.”

Lord Niriel’s eyes went from Finch to the Pickle Man to Keelie. She smiled weakly at him.

Sir Brine placed his hands on his hips and tapped his foot, eyes squinting as he checked her out. Then he nodded.

No, don’t nod, Keelie thought. Frown and look for someone else.

Finch grinned widely, certain that she’d won the argument. She always did.

Oh God. Maybe they’d give her a mask to wear.

Lord Niriel walked over to her. “If your proclivity toward bad luck with Ren Faire jobs runs its course with the Pickle Man today, then come see me. Since you can charm a special kind of horse, then you can no doubt charm the regular horses. You’d make a great squire.”

Keelie didn’t know whether to be shocked, relieved, or honored. Absolutely everyone at the Faire must have heard about her disastrous job record, but now an elven lord, her boyfriend’s father, had offered her a job in the jousting company. But before she could answer him he walked away, humming and studying his clipboard as if he’d forgotten she was there.