five

"I'm going to kill you, cat," she muttered. She stood outside on the mud-free bottom step, looking for Knot. The foul feline was nowhere in sight. Smart kitty, she thought. Evil, but smart. He probably knew that if she got near enough to strangle him, she would.

At least the rain was gone. The sky was clear and blue. She took a deep breath, then wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of cooking meat. Probably those gross turkey legs that she'd seen people gnawing on like barbarians. Not for her. She wouldn't buy into the argument that eating with your fingers was medieval. Plastic cups weren't medieval, and there had sure been plenty of people slurping from them the day before.

What she needed was a cup of coffee and some scones. Where was that tea shop?

She pulled at the drawstring of the leather pouch she'd found in her curtained bedroom area. Inside was her rose quartz, better than a gallon of calamine lotion for stopping that wood itch, her money, and the folded map of the Faire site.

She unfolded the map. Her father's shop was on the far left side of the grounds, with the tournament fields on one side of the hill and a lake on the other. It was time to replace the breakfast that the little oat-booger kitty had messed up.

Keelie's hearing locked onto the sound of her father's voice in conversation, followed by a low, appreciative murmur. Another woman, she thought. She should have guessed. Old Pops was the Faire's version of Matthew Mc- Conaughey. All the old chicks loved him.

She stepped onto the still-wet ground and walked to the edge of the booth. Her father was speaking to a tall guy dressed in an oversized tunic. So it wasn't a woman. Good.

She needed to talk to her father, alone, to discuss returning her to California. Father dropped a small leather pouch and leaned over to pick it up. A passing woman in tight jeans and a red halter top ogled his backside, clad in leather pants under his short, belted tunic.

Gross. She walked after the woman. "He's not for sale," Keelie said. She pointed to the other side of the shop. "Furniture's over there."

The woman's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Keelie saw her father frown. Whoops. Rude to a customer, ten demerits.

Keelie whirled and left, giving the woman a good view of her handprints. If she wanted to look at backsides, she'd give her an eyeful.

She rounded the corner and stopped by the railing that separated the path from the steeper slope of the hill that Heartwood was perched on. The sight of the activity on the tournament field caught her attention. A man cantered by on a massive warhorse. He wore a tunic and his trousers were tucked into tall, slouchy boots. With his long, brown hair blowing behind him, he looked just like a picture in a storybook.

She scanned the field for Sean.

Whoa, hold it. What was she thinking? They were from two different worlds, and as soon as Dad heard her plan and let her move back to Los Angeles with Elizabeth and Laurie, Sean would be just a pleasant memory.

On the field, a flash of fur the color of fall leaves streaked in front of the big horse. Her heart drummed against her chest. It was that stupid pee cat, about to get squashed under the horse's massive hooves. The rider was looking the other way.

"Knot, get out of there," Keelie shouted. Just because her underwear smelled like a litter box didn't mean she wanted him to end up squished.

Either the cat didn't hear her, or he chose to ignore her. He was chasing a field mouse, and she clutched the wooden railing as the cat followed the panic-stricken mouse back toward the horse in a trajectory that would take him under those dinner-plate-sized hooves.

Stop, she whispered to the horse. Stop. The rail under her hand felt warm. Pine, a tiny part of her mind thought, the rest of her concentrated like a flying arrow on that small bundle of doomed fur. She suddenly felt the presence of every tree around her, distinct, like people in a crowd. Her hands flew up, away from the fence.

A whoosh of air flowed around her, then through her, a breeze that ruffled her hair, though the leaves of nearby trees were still. Keelie watched, astonished, as the horse halted in mid-stride, legs suddenly straight, body leaning back in a hard stop. The rider's surprise was complete, too, as he tumbled over the horse's head to land on the sandy dirt of the ring. Knot ambled up to sniff at the fallen jouster, then hissed and swatted him, snagging his claws in the man's breeches. The man yelped and grabbed his leg.

Had she done that? Impossible. A weird coincidence.

Knot turned and looked toward the hill. He seemed to be staring at her. From here, Keelie could only imagine the eerie green of his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him. If she had been down there, he would have swatted at her, too. Ungrateful cat. She didn't know why she was even worried about him, after what he did to her.

"I've been upstairs," her father said behind her. He must have missed the drama on the field. His eyebrows lifted. "I saw what happened to your suitcase." He shook his head. "What can I say? We'll need to add underwear to the growing list of supplies you need."

"Yeah. That cat is so busted," she said.

"I didn't leave you cash for breakfast. You must be hungry." Zeke reached into a leather bag and withdrew a tendollar bill. He unfolded it and placed it in her palm.

She looked down at it. "That's it? In California, I can't even buy a latte for this."

Zeke's smile ironed out, then flat-lined. "This isn't California."

Keelie took it. "Can I have more for the washing machine? There's a laundromat around here, right?"

"Yes, by the front gates, behind the Administration Office. Let me get you some cash from the register."

"I'll take the money now, but I'll do my clothes later. Did you know your obnoxious cat almost got himself killed just now?" She told him about what had happened on the field, leaving out the part where the wind had flowed through her and the horse seemed to obey her wish.

Zeke shook his head. "Knot's got a mind of his own, and sometimes we can't tell what he's up to. Come into the shop a second and let me scrounge up some change."

The gangly guy in the humongous tunic kept his back to her as they approached the counter.

"Scott, this is my daughter Keelie."

Scott didn't turn around.

"Scott?"

He turned around, and his face seemed irritated.

"Keelie, this is Scott, my apprentice. I teach him woodworking, and he helps me out. He lives in a room out back."

Keelie didn't smile back either. Not only did Zeke have time for a stupid cat, he had time to teach this dork woodworking. She followed her father as he went behind the counter. The counter itself was amazing. It was taller than her waist, and the front edge was carved with imaginary animals, locked in a race around the countertop. The bottom was carved to look like roots, as if the shop itself was part of the Earth.

Hand stuck out in anticipation of money, Keelie looked around the shop. The posts that held up the top floor had root-carved bottoms, too. Weird. Must be a Heartwood theme. Her roots were elsewhere, weren't they?

Zeke handed her some bills, then broke open a roll of quarters and scooped up half of them to drop in Keelie's palm.

"Hey, we'll need those today to make change." Scott frowned at them.

"The cat peed on my clothes. I need to do laundry." Keelie matched his frown.

Scott laughed. "Is that why you're dressed like that? I thought Tarl had pitched that outfit after Daisy complained last year."

"Scott, why don't you show Keelie where to eat cheap? I'll her you can show her how to make that ten dollars last a week."

Keelie was mortified. Oh great, she'd be strolling around with fiber-dweeb and people would think they were a couple. Captain Randy, for one. And if Scott saw Captain Randy and her together, he'd no doubt tell Zeke all about it.

"I can't go, Zeke. I have to finish this piece for Mr. Humphrey. He's picking it up on Friday." Scott didn't seem any happier about it.

Zeke clapped a hand on Scott's back. "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. The Faire's just opened, so this is a good time for Keelie to see the sights before the crowds get in the way."

Ignoring Keelie's outraged stare, he waved Scott toward her. "On Sundays things don't get busy until after one in the afternoon. You can stay out until then."

They set off down the path, each clinging to the opposite side of the path. Scott glanced at her and snorted.

"What?" She couldn't see anything amusing.

"So, now that you have the garb, are you going to join the Muck and Mire Show?"

The skirt. Keelie hated the hideous Muck and Mire Show costume more than ever. It was a symbol, and it was the wrong one. Her Baywood Academy uniform had been the symbol that informed the world that she was somebody. Only the brightest and best connected got into Baywood. The blue and black of the Baywood uniform showed everyone that she was smart and her mother was important. Here she was a goofy-looking misfit.

"Are you laughing at me?" Keelie stopped in the middle of the path, hands on her hips. Scott's eyes widened, and he tried to stop, but laughter just bubbled out of him, the vermin.

"Don't you want me to?" He wiped his eyes. "You're dressed in that outrageous outfit. Like a clown." He hiccupped.

"Look at you. You've been here far longer than me, and you're wearing something that belongs to a giant. At least you have a choice."

She didn't have a choice in anything. Where to live, what to wear. Who to walk down the stupid path with. His laughter was suddenly too much.

She turned and ran. Racing down the hill, she veered right, speeding past a colorful barge tied at the lakeshore, full of fancy-costumed people. She ran past tradesmen setting up shop and artists opening their studios.

She heard Scott follow her for a while, but then she couldn't hear him anymore. Not that she'd turned to look. He'd never catch her looking to see if he was there. She wanted to be alone, to get away. From Scott. From her father. From this whole freakish wonderland.

The air felt good on her face, and her muscles stretched and sang as she lengthened her stride. She loved to run, and the proof, her cross-country racing ribbons, were in the missing suitcase. People looked up as she passed, but no one tried to stop her. She hadn't run for weeks. It felt great.

After a long time, she circled back to the Heartwood clearing. From the path's edge she watched her father and Scott unload lumber. Back to business. No one was concerned about her. She wondered what Scott had told her father about his early return. She could bet that it wasn't the truth.

Her stomach growled. She could use a muffin and a tall latte. She pulled the map of the Ren Faire site from the pouch slung around her waist and examined it. She was tempted to cut through the woods, but she'd been warned to stay on the path.

She started down Water Sprite Lane, hurrying over the bridge she'd passed last night. No voices today. The meadow was full of trees, just as Raven had described. She shut their voices out of her mind and ran.

The teashop was a ramshackle building, half-timbered and leaning. It seemed to be held together by ivy, which grew, dark green and lush, all up and down the sides. There wasn't a rose bush in sight.

Keelie walked onto the deck, which was huge, and covered by an arbor draped in-what else?-ivy. Maybe the ivy had eaten the roses.

Inside, Mrs. Butters was pulling a tray from an oven. The gingerbread woman smiled kindly at Keelie, who didn't return the smile. She didn't want to get used to anyone being nice or friendly to her. It was better this way. Keelie Heartwood was out of this place the first chance she had.

"Good morning, Keelie. What can I get for you?" The gingerbread woman smiled, her little black-raisin eyes shining in her brown face. Keelie resisted the urge to lean forward and sniff her.

"A couple of muffins, please." Too many carbs, but after this morning it was a well-deserved treat.

"What kind do you want?"

"Do you have any blueberry?"

"Of course. But they're for the mundanes. For us I have some with unicorn fruit and crystal seeds. Of course, this may be a bit more to your liking." The woman reverently held out a golden mound-topped muffin speckled with bright bits of red berry. "Fairy winkberry. It's your father's favorite."

"Fairy winkberry," Keelie repeated, hoping she wasn't losing her hearing.

The woman's eyes twinkled. "Yes, fairy winkberry. I don't make these very often, for the berries are rare in these parts, but one of the jousters happened upon a blooming plant near the meadow the other day and brought me back a basket."

Berries sounded more normal than crystal seeds. For all she knew, the crystal-seed muffin could have quartz bits in it. She remembered the toothless guy from the day before. No doubt about it. He could've been a crystal-seed muffin victim.

"Okay. Fairy winkberry. But since it's so big, I'll have just one. And a tall chai."

"I'm afraid I don't have chai, but I do have a lovely herbal tea that goes great with the muffins." She pulled a tray from a stack and put the muffin on it, with a lacy paper doily underneath it.

No chai. Of course not. Keelie remembered going to the coffee shop at the mall with Laurie and the gang after school. Chai and coffee were their favorite hot drinks. This place was totally primitive.

"How about a coffee then, dark roast?"

"Aren't you a little young for coffee? I think Zeke would object." The feminine voice behind her sounded disapproving.

Keelie quickly turned to see who had spoken to her. It was the herb lady, Raven's mother, dressed in purple and white, her billowing sleeves embroidered with little green herb plants. Her bracelets jingled and chimed with her movements.

Heat crept up Keelie's cheeks as she looked down at her mismatched Muck and Mire Show outfit. And the woman smelled divine, like something from an exotic land. Mom had never worn perfume. She'd thought it was unprofessional.

The memory of her mother brought Keelie back to reality. Who was this woman to question whether or not Keelie could have coffee? To call her dad Zeke and pretend she knew what his rules were? Mom let her have coffee. And it wasn't any of this woman's business if she did. Her motherly act was irritating.

She was probably out to impress her dad, Keelie thought. And if that's the case, she's auditioning for a part that doesn't exist.

"I think that's for me to decide," Keelie said. "I'm old enough to make my own food choices."

"I know that your dad eats as naturally as possible, just like your grandmother," the herb woman said, unperturbed. "Besides, it's going to be too hot for coffee."

She didn't want the nosy herb lady to rat her out, but she wasn't giving in yet. She turned back to Mrs. Butters. "Do you have Coke?"

The herb lady frowned.

"No," Mrs. Butters said. "But the turkey leg stand opens in about an hour, and they sell soft drinks there."

Keelie sighed. What kind of eating place didn't sell Coke? This was taking the medieval theme all too seriously. "Okay, give me the herbal tea."

The muffin lady and the herb lady smiled at each other. Keelie looked away. She didn't want to make friends with anyone who treated her like a child, but the herb lady's gentle smile made Keelie ache for Mom's smile. The smile that said, "No, you can't have it," in a loving but firm way. The one that said, "I love you enough to say no." That smile.

She could feel her throat swelling up like it always did whenever her mother's smiling face appeared in her mind, aware that she'd never see her smile again except in photographs. Mom would never, ever say no to Keelie again. She vividly remembered their last fight. She'd wanted to have her belly button pierced like her friends Laurie and Ashlee. Keelie ran her hands over her stomach. She could do it now if she wanted to. Who was going to stop her, the herb lady? Her dad?

The minute she got back to L.A., she would get her belly button pierced. Mom couldn't stop her, and for sure her father wouldn't stop her. When she came to visit, he wouldn't notice, either. He was too busy with his trees, customers, and that dumb cat to notice that Keelie had done something that she'd always wanted to do. It would be a sign of her independence. And she'd drink gallons of coffee, the strongest she could find.

Keelie absentmindedly accepted the tray with the huge golden-domed muffin and the cup of hot tea. The herb lady handed the muffin lady a green cup just like the one Keelie had seen Father drinking tea out of earlier this morning.

Keelie plopped her tray down on a table in the farthest corner of the deck. She picked up the muffin and touched the bits of fairy winkberry. Probably a cutesy name for cranberries.

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?"