"He said the same thing. Does this have to do with the unicorn?" Concern for the unicorn, along with a sense of protection, washed over Keelie. If Elianard harmed one hair on it, she'd ...

She didn't know what she would do, but she'd do something. She'd protect the unicorn. She didn't want another creature hurt because of Elianard or Elia, the way Ariel had been. For once, Keelie was glad the hawk was in Pennsylvania and not here in the Wildewood.

"Maybe. Elianard's magic seems stronger." Zeke frowned, and his thoughts suddenly seemed far away. "Unicorns are very powerful in their own right."

Keelie shuddered, remembering the glowing horn she'd glimpsed that night and Elianard's comments about pure bloodlines. What kind of magic would it take to hurt a unicorn? Dad was right. Elianard was was an idiot. an idiot.

"Where's Knot? He's supposed to be with you at all times." Her father peered into the bushes, as if Knot had disguised himself as a shrub.

"I dunno. Maybe he went to check out the pubs."

Dad glowered toward the woods. "I'll find him, and when I do he has a lot of explaining to do."

Keelie rubbed her temple.

Dad wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

"Probably Elianard."

Dad arched an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. "Isn't that the Plumpkin suit that Vernerd wore last year?"

She gave him a wide-eyed look. This was the moment she needed if she was going to milk sympathy from Dad. "Yes, it is. Can you believe they're making me wear this? From what I heard he had lice, too." Dad didn't have to know that Elia was the source of this bit of information.

Dad stroked his chin, a pensive look on his face. "I think I remember hearing about that." He started walking toward the campground.

Keelie easily kept up with his long stride. Like father like daughter, she thought. "So?"

"So what?"

Subtlety wasn't working. "How could you let your only child wear a stupid dragon suit that's infested with lice and smells like puke? Where's the concern? Where's the love?"

"I know Finch had the suit dry cleaned; so it's no longer infested with anything. As for the smell, there's nothing I can do about that other than possibly asking Janice to recommend some herb or essential oil to vanquish it. Let's hang your costume up at Sir Davey's camper. Maybe it just needs a little airing."

"A hurricane wouldn't help this mess." But maybe Janice could help. She could work miracles with her herbs. "Can't we bury it, and tell Finch it finally died? Besides, if we air it outside, then everyone in the campground is going to know I'm Plumpkin. I can't wait to get the tent up. Being inside the Swiss Miss Chalet is not going to work."

"Bad news about the tent. I pulled it out to air it, and it was covered in mildew. It even had mushrooms growing on one side. Luckily, Davey says we can bunk with him."

Keelie almost forgot about the stinking purple disaster she was holding. Hot showers! And no sleeping in a moldy tent or, worse, in the fairy-tale outhouse on wheels.

Zeke smiled. "Wearing this purple dragon suit will teach you a great lesson, more than anything I can say or do."

"Yeah?" What was it with parents and life lessons?

"Not to go around making impulse buys and not thinking your decisions through to the end. By the way, I made the three-hundred-dollar deposit for your custom boots. Now you have to work it off, and pay off the balance, too. That means you have to wear a smelly purple dragon suit. Welcome to responsibility. And I need you at the shop, too. I just heard from Scott. He isn't going to make it."

"What? I can't do both jobs." She had a mental image of herself at the Heartwood shop, selling furniture while wearing the hideous purple dragon costume. Then what he said sank in. Scott, her father's apprentice, was a little stiff, but he was one of the good guys. "Is Scott okay?"

"Finch gave me a couple of messages. Scott's accepted a position at a Faire in California, and won't be fulfilling his apprenticeship with me."

"That t.u.r.d! He's gone and left us high and dry. Are you going to hire someone else?"

"Not unless the right person comes along. I have to feel the trees' approval." Dad made furniture only from downed trees. He soothed their pa.s.sing into a new form, giving his furniture a spiritual glow that was apparent even to the mundanes.

"You know, Zeke, that sounds very woo-woo even for you." Despite everything that went down with the Red Cap in the forest outside the High Mountain Faire, Keelie still wasn't totally comfortable with her newly discovered elven heritage and magic.

"I noticed I'm back to being Zeke."

"As long as I have to wear this suit, Zeke Zeke. As for the trees' approval, hire someone until the right person shows up."

"What can I say, Ke-li-el?" He emphasized all of the syllables in her elven name. He shrugged. "I am the Tree Shepherd. And the trees love you, Keelie. You are the natural choice to aid me. Besides, I don't have to pay you."

"Gee, I'm so lucky. Can't I just work for you, and skip the Faire job?"

"No. You've committed yourself to the job, and you're going to see it through. By the way, the other message was for you. Your friend Laurie called. She's coming in on the eleven o'clock train next Friday."

Keelie looked at the smelly costume draped over her shoulder. She had two jobs and lived in an RV with a dwarf, an elf, and Knot-or whatever he was when he wasn't being a cat. Laurie was the only person who remembered her old life in Los Angeles, a life filled with tennis lessons, private school, and mall shopping. She was going to have a good laugh when she saw Keelie's new life. Keelie hoped they could laugh about it together. Laughing with a friend was so much better than getting laughed at.

The suit smelled awful. There was no getting used to Plumpkin's stink. Keelie stood just outside the Faire gates, surrounded by milling wenches, knights, and bleary-eyed Merry Men. The Faire workers were supposed to interact with the gathering crowd, getting them excited about the coming fun. Some of the Merry Men were clearly not up to it.

Lulu, dressed in a white gown and white gauzy fairy wings, was handing out candy to little kids, some costumed and some dressed in everyday clothes. They danced around her like little b.u.t.terflies drawn to a cl.u.s.ter of sweet-smelling flowers. Keelie enjoyed watching the kids, but that was as much interaction as she wanted to have with them.

Lulu had a unicorn puppet on her shoulder, one of the ones that was weighted to seem as if it were perched on her. She used a long, hidden wire to move its head. The little unicorn glittered in the sunlight. As if Lulu knew that Keelie was staring, the ivory-horned head twisted to look her way. It closed an eye in a slow-motion wink, then turned back to the children.

Keelie blinked, wondering if she had really seen that or if it were a trick of the light. The puppet lady was really talented-and the kids seemed to love her. She moved on, still surrounded by her little followers, except for one girl who, fairy wings askew, was staring off into s.p.a.ce.

Keelie stepped aside to allow a family to walk by, and Lulu's little unicorn turned its head again, its black b.u.t.ton eyes staring sightlessly right at her. Okay, this was getting creepy. She wondered how Lulu did it. Maybe she could work at the puppet shop and find out. Anything would be better than being Plumpkin the dragon.

Sweat dripped down Keelie's back; she'd worn a leotard and yoga pants to keep her body from touching Plumpkin's fuzzy insides. Irritating globs of glitter from the scales had drifted down inside her bra, and she itched. She couldn't scratch. A huge crowd had gathered outside the gates, and it was still thirty minutes before the opening trumpets. Keelie rolled her eyes. They should go get a life, a latte, something.

Several little girls in pink tutus, pink leotards, and tie-dyed fairy wings rushed toward Lulu, almost knocking Keelie over.

She was desperate to scratch. Even though Zeke (she was still mad at him), Finch, and several other Faire employees had rea.s.sured her over and over that there were no lice inside the suit, Keelie wasn't convinced.

This could be her last day on earth. She might die from itching combined with claustrophobia. She could see only through the mesh in the dragon's mouth. She certainly wouldn't die from hunger, because the vomit smell had permanently eradicated her appet.i.te. She'd never eat again. She'd have anorexia, and it would be Zeke's fault. If he'd let her withdraw her inheritance money to pay for the custom-made boots, then she could be helping him at the shop. She hoped he was swamped with customers today.

She turned her back to a skinny maple tree and rubbed up and down, using the zipper's hard edge to quell the itch at her shoulder blade. It felt so good she almost moaned; then she stopped, horrified. She was acting like Knot. Something was squashed up inside the suit, under her right foot. She wiggled her toes against it. A cloth something.

A group of mothers talked in the shade of a tree, surrounded by a herd of small children and babies in strollers.

A little boy dressed in black plastic armor stared at her and shouted, "I'm going to kill you, mean dragon."

Keelie had been instructed by Finch to make exaggerated gestures, like a cartoon character, when engaging with obnoxious kids. They loved it, as did the parents. Keelie stepped back and held her hands up as if she were afraid.

Plumpkin was a wuss!

With the mood she was in, if Keelie had been a real dragon, she'd roast the kid. A man dressed in beggar's rags stumbled toward her. He smiled.

Ew! Those cavities in his front teeth didn't seem fake. "h.e.l.lo, Dragon." Those cavities in his front teeth didn't seem fake. "h.e.l.lo, Dragon."

Keelie sidled away. He followed her.

"Dragon, wait up."

Keelie stopped and turned around, and put her claws on her waist and tapped her foot, the one with the cloth wadded up in it.

The beggar came closer. "I'm Vernerd the beggar. Just wanted to ask if you might have found any personal items inside the suit?"

Keelie shook her head. Plumpkin's googly eyes rattled in their plastic sockets.

Vernerd c.o.c.ked his head. "Ah, good. Let me recommend something. Don't let the Merry Men push you around on the Bedlam Barrel ride after the Faire-is-over party."

She didn't speak, hoping he didn't know who was inside the suit.

The minstrels gathered at the side of the clearing and began playing a sprightly Celtic tune. Vernerd smiled, again exposing his rotten teeth. Keelie made a note to use extra floss tonight.

"That's my cue." Vernerd hobbled away.

A knight walked past Keelie. He stopped and spun on his boots, then walked in a circle around her. He was nice to look at, with long dark brown hair pulled back in a tie. He wore a long green tunic over green tights, and black leather gloves covered his hands. "Ye dragon, begone from Sherwood Forest, for the good folk of Nottingham must deal with evil more vile than thee."

Keelie held up her hands in mock surrender. The knight removed his sword from his scabbard and pressed the sword tip near Plumpkin's neck. "Should I kill the dragon?"

There were shouts of "No!" from the crowd. One little voice rang out louder than the others: "Kill the dragon." She knew who it belonged to. The little brat in black armor.

"Dragon, what say you?"

Again, Keelie held up her hands, or rather, her purple claws, in mock surrender. She could hear the black plastic eyes spinning round and round inside the round clear covers as she shook her head, pleading for her life. Maybe if the knight killed her now, then she wouldn't have to do the parade. She'd better still get paid.

The handsome knight motioned toward the crowd. "Good people, your kindness allows me to let this dragon live, but evil Prince John will not be so fortunate."

A fanfare erupted from atop the wooden gate. Long, pointed banners hung from the yard-long golden trumpets that the trumpeters blew in one direction, then another.

The handsome knight ran and hopped atop a stone. "Good people of Sherwood, be forewarned, rumor says that evil Prince John brings his new bride-to-be, the Princess Eleanor of Angouleme, to our fair town. You are safe, however. The Merry Men and I will save the good people of Nottingham from the treachery of Sir Guy of Gisbourne and the Sheriff until Good King Richard returns. So say I, Robin Hood!"

Loud clapping erupted from behind Keelie. She scooted to the side and ran into one of the Merry Men, who shoved her out of the way. She would've landed on her b.u.t.t if she hadn't grabbed the trunk of a maple tree. The branches reached down to steady her just as a breeze kicked up. Keelie looked up, and the branches in all the nearby trees began to sway. Good cover.

Thank you, Keelie thought.

A comforting green filled her mind. She didn't sense any anger, or other emotional issues, from the maple like she had from the oaks.

A man in red, probably playing Will Scarlet, shouted, "Dragon, are you with the Merry Men or Prince John?"

How the heck did she know? She hadn't read the script, and she hadn't taken any improv cla.s.ses, either.

From atop the wooden platform, Tarl, the former Muck and Mire man, waved to the crowd below. He was now dressed in royal velvet finery. He cleaned up well, but Keelie shuddered, remembering his naked, potato-shaped silhouette on a tent wall when he'd been "entertaining" a Faire goer at the High Mountain Faire. She'd be scarred for life-the image was burned into her mind.

Cheers erupted again.

Tarl raised his arms. "Greetings citizens and visitors, to the Wildewood Faire. Today is a most joyous occasion; for it is the day my betrothed arrives. Let us give her a Wildewood welcome."

Another round of fanfare. Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Keelie hoped she'd have a moment to slip into a privy and remove her bra. That might help the itching. Through her mesh mouth-netting, she saw an ATM and suddenly remembered her ATM card. If she could find her old card, she might be able to withdraw enough money to pay Zeke back as well as the remaining amount on her boots. Keelie hoped she'd have a moment to slip into a privy and remove her bra. That might help the itching. Through her mesh mouth-netting, she saw an ATM and suddenly remembered her ATM card. If she could find her old card, she might be able to withdraw enough money to pay Zeke back as well as the remaining amount on her boots.

Whack! Something hard hit her on the knee. She almost toppled over from the pain. She looked down, and saw that the sniveling little brat in plastic armor had hit her with a wooden sword. Now the little cretin was running back to his mommy.

Keelie leaned against the tree, trying to ease the throbbing in her knee. Another fanfare blared overhead. Keelie watched as Princess Eleanor and her ladies-in-waiting joined Prince John on the platform. Elia looked beautiful. Keelie took in every detail enviously, from her sweeping skirts to her sleek, braided hair.

Elia did her dumb blonde routine and held out her dainty hand for Prince John's kiss. The kiss made her twitch. Keelie smiled inwardly. Elia had human cooties. She thought of Elia tongue-kissing Tarl. Eww! Maybe being a dragon wasn't so bad.

Prince John released her hand and gestured to someone behind him. "And let me introduce my lovely ward, Maid Marian." A young woman in a green cloak walked past Elia, sneering identically. Darn, an elf girl was playing Maid Marian. She waved to the crowd. There was something weird about her, but maybe it was just part of seeing the world through Plumpkin's eye-screens. Maid Marian's face seemed blurry.

Robin Hood shouted up to Prince John. "You're not the true ruler of England. Good King Richard will return and claim his crown."

"Robin, my love," Marian shouted down to him.

Oh brother. Who wrote this stuff?

Robin held his hand out toward Marian. "Dear heart, take courage."

"Oh, how sappy!" Ugly looks turned to her. Oops. She'd spoken out loud. Nevertheless, Keelie had to admit she would melt under Robin's loving gaze, which she should feel guilty for thinking because of her relationship with Sean. Even though he hadn't called her since they left Colorado.

Prince John stepped forward. "Enough. Marian is under my protection."

d.a.m.n! Tarl was really good as Prince John. Keelie was impressed with his acting skills. Marian dropped her cloak, revealing a scarlet gown. Nearby, the similarly dressed Will Scarlet nodded approvingly. Maybe Marian and Will shopped at the same booth, Hose to Toes. Speaking of toes, she couldn't wait to get rid of whatever it was wadded up at the end of her foot. It was making her own toes itch. One of those really nail-digging scratches would relieve the irritation. She just had to get over the itching, and the throbbing pain in her knee, and move through this day.

Maybe paying attention to the show would help. Maid Marian had broken free of Prince John's knights, and threw herself into Robin Hood's arms. Keelie watched enviously, imagining herself in the beautiful elf girl's place.

Prince John leaned down and shouted to Robin Hood. "At this day's end, I shall give my bride your head as a wedding gift."

Robin Hood, arms protectively around Marian, shouted, "Nay, rather, you shall surrender the crown to Richard."

"Then at the hour of ten and thirty, we shall decide the fate of England on the jousting field. What say you?"

"I agree." Robin Hood held his sword high in the air and the crowd cheered, "Huzzah."

Finally, Prince John told the crowd to enjoy the Faire and their day in Sherwood Forest. The gates swung open majestically.

Yeah, yeah. Big fun coming up. Keelie resisted scratching herself as the crowd surged toward the gates. You'd think there was a prize for being the first one into the Faire. She motioned with a purple claw and waved people toward the gates. Most of the kids stuck their tongues out at her as they pa.s.sed, or they shouted "You stink!" She had an overwhelming desire to kick some of them.

All the Faire workers were lining up. Ah, the stupid parade!

Keelie had no idea where she was supposed to go. Finch had said only "show up at the gates."

In the line, she walked behind the Ladies of Laundry, a comedy group that presented dirty humor at the Mudville Stage. They turned around and pinched their noses with their fingers and one said in a faux English accent, "Look, Molly, it be a dragon that needs washin'."

The other girl shook her head. "Not enough money in the kingdom for me to wash this wretched beastie."

A blocky guy built like a troll stepped in front of her. He had strawberry blonde hair and peach fuzz on his cheeks. He carried a large quarterstaff, and burped. "'Scuse me. We did a bit of merrymaking last night, and me stomach needs a bit of mead to cure what's ailing it." He patted his overhanging belly, its bulge fortunately covered up by his brown tunic.