"Want me to find him?" She cringed inwardly. Her voice had come out high-pitched, like an eight-year-old begging for a treat.

"Stay out of the forest, and don't ask again. These trees are old, Keelie, the survivors of a logging camp which existed here about thirty years before they built the dam and power plant upstream. The Faire is built over the old logging campground, and some of these buildings stood then. It'll be a long time before the forest recovers."

That would explain the hemlock post's image. "The trees aren't this obnoxious every year, are they?" If so, this would have been called the Haunted Forest instead of the Wildewood Faire.

"It was a beautiful forest." Dad's eyes grew misty as he remembered. "There were no elves to perform the tree Lorem, so the energy and spirits of the fallen trees haunt these lands, and something has awakened them. That's one reason why I don't want you going near the unicorn. He's powerful and protective of the forest, and he may not hesitate to use your magic for his purpose."

Fear skipped up Keelie's spine. "There's not another Red Cap, is there?"

"No, no evil fairies, just the Faire director that I have to get ready for. She's a beast of a woman."

Keelie had filled with yearning when Dad said "unicorn." She knew he was in the forest, and even though Dad had warned her about his glamour, she didn't want to resist the compulsion to go into the woods. What could the unicorn do to hurt her? Dad watched her with a suspicious expression that said I know you're up to somethin I know you're up to something. If she did go into the forest, she'd need to divert his attention.

"Why were the oaks throwing acorns at Lulu? She's really nice." The puppet lady had a right to be freaked about the acorns.

"I don't know. She's new. The children's costume shop used to be there, but the owner got sick this spring. Admin scrambled for someone to fill the slot, and Lulu was looking for a new home for her puppet business."

"Is she an elf?" Lulu didn't look like an elf, and she was too nice to be one, but there was something magical about her.

"No, she's human, but she makes me uncomfortable. She's odd. Steer clear of her until I know what it is, okay?"

"But she's so nice. I like her. "

"Keelie!"

"Okay, but can I at least buy one of her puppets? I want a shoulder unicorn." Mom would have bought one for her. She'd loved stuffed animals. Moments later, hot tears rolled down Keelie's cheeks, as if on autopilot. She hated how she cried without warning.

Dad pulled a wad of tissues from his pocket and gave them to her. These days he always carried tissues in his pocket for his waterspout daughter.

"Sorry." She blew her nose.

"It's normal, Keelie. You're grieving. Three months isn't that long. You've been through a lot since losing her, too."

"No kidding. Like finding out I'm not human?" That had been a shocker.

"Half human," he corrected. "It might do you a world of good to do something other than hang out at the shop. I'm stuck here, getting ready for opening day and waiting for Scott to arrive, but you're free. Why don't you get a job?"

"I just wanted to hang."

"If you had a job working in the Faire, you could earn some pocket money. I saw the shopping gleam in your eyes."

"What a coincidence. I was just at Lady Annie's looking at boots."

"You already have your Mom's and the ones Janice gave you. Why don't you buy a bow and learn archery?"

"Archery?" Leave it to an elf to think archery was fun. And he would bring up the fact she already had two pairs of boots. Dad just didn't get shoes and females. Two pairs weren't enough.

"I thought I'd use some of the money Mom left me. And besides, they're not so expensive."

"I've seen the price of those boots." Zeke quirked an eyebrow, as if he thought it was funny that she wanted a pair. "But if you really want them, you can get a job."

"I just ordered a pair." Keelie blew her nose as she said it, trying to disguise the words.

It didn't work.

"I hope you're joking." His voice rose to "you're grounded" volume.

She couldn't believe Dad was picking a fight. She was the one who'd lived in close quarters with him and his cat, without a refrigerator and without a bathroom for the past three weeks. She'd pointed out every piercing and tattoo parlor in eight states and Dad had driven past every single shop, eyes looking straight ahead, never once glancing at where she was pointing. She'd earned earned those boots. "I those boots. "I have have ordered them, and Lady Annie has already cut the leather." Well, she didn't know if Lady Annie had actually started, but she might have. Too late now. ordered them, and Lady Annie has already cut the leather." Well, she didn't know if Lady Annie had actually started, but she might have. Too late now.

"Really." Dad's face had paled, but Keelie noticed his neck was beginning to turn green. This was not normal.

"Are you okay, Dad?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Fine. It's my favorite subject right now. I have money in the bank, so what's the big deal? They're going to be really great, with leaves and acorns. They'll go with the shop." Although she might need to rethink the acorns after this last incident.

"Keelie, that's your college money. If you want the boots, you have to work for them."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're going to work for those boots."

Keelie's mouth dropped open in outrage. "It's my money. I can do as I please. I'll call Ms. Talbot, and she'll tell you that I can spend my money as I see fit."

Dad shrugged. "Call her. She'll tell you that you can't touch the money until you're eighteen."

Knot abandoned his wild game of acorn hockey and sat down in front of Keelie to wash his b.u.t.t.

"Fine. I will call. Mom would've let me have them." The tears were back.

Dad grabbed the crowbar and pried the lid off a nearby crate with more force than was necessary. The lid went flying and bounced off a post, splintering on the floor. "You're living with me now. Ms. Finch, the Faire coordinator, has an office in the administrative building. She's in charge of hiring."

Fresh tears made Keelie dab at her eyes, and she blew her nose with the tear-dampened tissue. "You're kidding, right? You want me to get a job?"

"Ms. Finch. Go. Now." Dad's face had gone stern.

"Yeah, right, Zeke. It'll take me a hundred years to pay it off working just on weekends." Keelie scowled at him. She'd just downgraded him to a first name basis. Forget calling him Dad until he acted like one.

"You need to learn the value of working for something. I think you've had too many things just given to you."

"How dare you? Mom loved me. She took care of me." Keelie spun on her heel and started to march away.

Her right foot slipped on Knot's acorn, and she hit the ground hard on her backside, her teeth clacking together painfully. Winded and jarred, Keelie concentrated on inhaling and exhaling as her tailbone spasmed with pain.

Dad dropped the crowbar and ran to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'll live." She groaned, too rattled to pull away as he helped her up. From beneath her, the acorn rolled across the floor. The s.a.d.i.s.tic orange feline sauntered out of the shop, not bothering to look back at the havoc he'd caused. At least he was acting normally.

Keelie limped to the end of the street, studied a map of the Wildewood Faire, and found the Admin building. She knew that calling the attorneys was hopeless. They'd never let her have the money. Dad had called her bluff, and now her leisurely summer plans were a bust.

Soon she stood in front of a white cottage that must have once been part of the logging camp. A sign on the door read "Hiring." Knot ran past her in a blur and stopped on the porch. Keelie marched up the steps, barely looking at the pots of herbs that lined them.

She glared at the cat. He had some nerve, following her as if he was all concerned. She'd probably be bruised for a week from his stupid acorn.

"You're never, ever going to sleep with me again." She realized she'd been shouting when two really hot hunky guys in jeans and polo shirts stopped to stare at her, as did a teenage girl with long brown hair. The girl glared at Keelie with a look Keelie was familiar giving, not receiving-the "you're such a dork" look. The trio exchanged glances that plainly said, "What a loser!"

Keelie quickly retaliated with a hand on her hip and the bored "who gave you permission to stare at me?" glare. If Laurie were here, she'd startle them with something smart.

The trio got the hint and moved on. Keelie overheard the girl say, "Can you believe I got a job at Francesca?"

Francesca, the coolest shop at the Ren Faire.

Now that that was a place she could work. She loved their clothes-beautiful interpretations of period clothing. Ubercool for Rennie garb, the La Jolie Rouge of the Ren Faire. The kind of costume that would go with her boots. was a place she could work. She loved their clothes-beautiful interpretations of period clothing. Ubercool for Rennie garb, the La Jolie Rouge of the Ren Faire. The kind of costume that would go with her boots.

Keelie winced as she climbed the porch steps. She needed a guardian to protect her from her supposed guardian. Knot sat at the door as if he were daring her to go inside.

"Get!" She shooed him away with her foot. He purred.

The wooden door suddenly opened, and cool air rushed out. Admin had air conditioning. No fair. The cool air became downright cold as Keelie looked up at a large woman with flaming red hair and flashing green eyes.

"What in the h.e.l.l are you doing? Were you planning to knock, or just stand there?" The woman looked as if she was having a bad day and was about to take it out on Keelie.

"I'm here to apply for a job," Keelie managed to squeak.

The woman's red eyebrows narrowed as her gaze went down Keelie, and then back up again. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Hmm. Do I know you?"

"I'm Keelie Heartwood. My dad's-"

"Zeke Heartwood." Her frosty voice warmed up a couple of notches. "You're one of them. Come on in, the others are inside. I hope Heartwood can do something about those belligerent oaks."

Keelie followed the woman, who was wearing jeans, too, but paired with a white blouse under a blue tapestry-patterned bodice. Keelie noticed that she had a pair of Lady Annie's boots. A rising red sun, over a black mountain range, was tooled into the brown leather that clung to the formidable woman's thick calves. More determined than ever, Keelie knew she'd work for boots. She'd show Zeke she could do it.

The woman walked behind an ordinary metal office desk and plunked down into a swivel chair. There was nothing Renaissancy about it. She motioned toward a ladder-back chair with stuffing poking from its torn seat cushion.

"So you're Zeke Heartwood's kid."

"Yes."

"I'm Ms. Finch. Why do you want a job at the Faire?"

"I need to earn some money."

"Why aren't you working for your dad?"

"Dad has an apprentice. He thought it might be good for me to do something different. He wants me to meet new people, experience new situations."

She beamed. "I have the perfect job for you. You understand you've come a little late. Most jobs have been filled."

Keelie leaned forward. "I've got a great job in mind, too. Do you have any openings at Francesca? I would love to work there."

"Sorry kid, but those positions have been filled. You just missed the last spot. I gave it to a girl who was here just a few minutes ago. You must have seen her. Mall brat. Abercrombie & Fitch type."

Keelie wondered if Knot would go and pee on the girl on her first day on the job. Maybe if she bribed him with catnip. Then Keelie could show up and really show the Francesca people what she could do. Maybe she'd even have her boots by then, and she'd really fit in with the Ren Faire designer crowd. An image of her riding bareback on the unicorn flashed through her mind. Again, the urge to go into the woods washed over her. She forced her attention back to Mrs. Finch's arched red eyebrow.

"Then what do you have in mind for me?"

"You've heard of a Jack-of-all-trades?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you're going to be my Jill-of-the-Faire. You're going to fill in wherever and whenever I need you."

"What does that mean?" That sounded either fun or awful.

"Here's the job description: One day you're filling in at the joust, holding horses because one of the squires has called in sick. Or you'll be serving up turkey legs because one of the local high school kids has a hangover, or I may need you to fill in at the juggling show because the juggler has dropped a bowling ball on his head. Or you'll be helping Sir Brine with his pickle cart. I put you where I need you."

"Pickle cart? No way. Are you sure you don't have anything else? A permanent job, maybe?"

"I do have an opening for an a.s.sistant to the privy cleaner." Finch leaned forward, eyes locked on Keelie's.

She shuddered. "Jill-of-the-Faire works."

Finch sat back. "Good. Your first job is tomorrow, opening day, by the front gates. You'll need to be there at eight-thirty to greet customers. Pick up your costume at the garb shop this afternoon, and I'll walk you through your duties."

"Costume?" She envisioned a beautiful gown. This could be sweet. Whatever it was would be worth it for the boots.

"Plumpkin the Baby Dragon." Finch waved a hand in the direction of the other side of the house. "It'll be the purple fuzzy one in the other room. They should've gotten the vomit out last year. If not, spray some more Febreze in it, and you'll be good to go. Better take a bottle with you in case the smell comes back."

The embarra.s.sment of wearing a fuzzy purple dragon suit was one thing, but entertaining little kids sounded awful. And the Febreze had not killed the smell. Keelie thought maybe now would be a good time for the unicorn to rush over, pierce her heart with its horn, and end her life.

five.

That afternoon, Keelie returned to the Admin building. The potted lavender by the porch wafted its soothing scent over her. Janice said lavender was good for stress, but the flower's purpley spikes reminded her of what was coming: Plumpkin the Baby Dragon.

She crept past the office, not anxious to see Ms. Finch again. At the end of the hallway, a sign read "Costume Shop." Opening the door, Keelie was greeted with a beehive-swirl of activity. The room was crowded with women. A thin woman with graying brown hair buzzed about with a yellow measuring tape around her neck, a pincushion on her wrist, and a notepad and pencil in her hands. She wove through the others, all of whom were trying on costumes.

Keelie kept to the edge of the room, scooting around a plastic table laden with luxurious bolts of velvet, lace, and silk. Racks overflowed with cloaks, women's voluminous gowns, and men's doublets. Another woman was cutting fabric at a long waist-high table, using stiff plastic pattern pieces. No one looked at Keelie, and that was perfect. She wanted to grab the Plumpkin costume and get out of there.