“We came to see the puppet show,” one of the Hot Tub wenches said in a plaintive whine. Her breasts were so tightly corseted in her bodice that they looked like round flotation devices popping out of the top.
“I suggest you return to your shops and to your jobs before I decide you don’t have one.” Finch shot the woman a blazing glare, and the crowd dispersed as if a stick of dynamite had been thrown at them.
The puppet waved goodbye to the departing groupies.
“You’re an amazing and talented faire director, Finch. I didn’t realize you had taken such an interest in my shop. Who do you have in mind as my new shop assistant?”
“Keelie, of course.” Finch gestured toward her as if she were a new appliance in a department store.
Keelie stepped forward and produced what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Me again, neighbor.”
Hob’s whole demeanor changed, from reluctance to surprise to elation. “Keelie! I would love to have her. Her experience at Heartwood makes her invaluable to me.”
Finch beamed at Hob. “That’s what I thought.”
In the trees above, the bhata had gathered, and Knot sat on the edge of the mask shop roof watching her, his tail twitching. He pointed it toward the meadow. What was he trying to tell her?
“I’ll leave you two alone, and if you have any problems with her, Hob, let me know. I’m going to check on the armor shop.” Finch turned around and walked away, leaving Keelie alone with Hob. Keelie swallowed.
“Why would she say that, I wonder?” Hob stepped down from the front porch, and for a fleeting moment, Keelie thought she saw a shimmery outline around his body. That was new.
“I’m glad you’re here to help me, and so is Toshi,” he added. The puppet extended a wooden hand.
“Hello, Toshi,” Keelie shook the puppet’s hand. Yes, she was being introduced to a puppet.
“Would you like to come inside?” The mask maker motioned toward the door.
Keelie wasn’t so sure she wanted to be alone with Hob. Quirky didn’t begin to describe him, and that shimmer concerned her. Was it magic? Maybe he was under a spell.
A cloud of orange cat hair drifted down onto Hob. He sneezed.
Keelie looked up at Knot, who jumped down from the roof onto the porch. Hob stepped back.
“Why is that cat here?” Another sneeze.
“He followed me. Is it okay if he comes inside the shop with us? He misses Heartwood so much. There’s nothing like having a shop kitty. People love to pet him, and it relaxes the customers.”
Hob sneezed again. Toshi the puppet covered its nose with its hands.
“He can stay, but I’m allergic to cats. Knot has to stay outside.” Hob sneezed again.
“Strange. I thought Knot had visited you before,” Keelie said.
Knot rubbed his head up and down Hob’s leg and purred happily. Lots of cat fur floated around him.
“He likes you,” Keelie said cheerily.
Hob blew his nose into a multicolored handkerchief. “Come back Saturday morning, and I’ll give you a tour before we open. Right now, I’ve got someplace I need to be.”
“What about preview day today?”
Hob’s eyes darkened. He turned toward the meadow, then whirled around to face Keelie. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and he shook his head. “I must go.” He ran inside the shop and closed the door. She heard the clicks of locks as Hob barricaded himself inside with Toshi and his masks.
Keelie was relieved she didn’t have to spend time alone with Hob and his creepy puppet.
Knot pointed his tail to the south. “Meow.”
“There’s something you want me to see in the meadow?”
Knot nodded.
What now? She hadn’t had time to catch her breath since she’d arrived back at the High Mountain Faire. It had been one crisis after another. Following Knot down Wood Row and Water Sprite Lane, Keelie avoided eye contact and tuned her senses in to the trees.
Something was definitely up, but she couldn’t tell what.
ten
The meadow seemed undisturbed. Keelie glared at Knot. “You brought me all the way down here, for what?”
Knot raced up to Hrok and Keelie followed.
Well met, Hrok. Everything okay here?
Hrok’s face pushed through the bark. Most certainly, Tree Shepherdess. How goes your faire? Have you met goblins there? We’ve seen them in their metal skin. The bhata have seen them too.
Keelie’s blood chilled at the words “goblin” and “metal skin.” Armored goblins? Finch and the elves had been right. Yet Hrok didn’t seem concerned.
Where have you seen these goblins? she asked.
They came from Under-the-Hill. The bhata will show you.
Keelie looked around nervously. The meadow seemed like an obvious location for an entrance to Under-the- Hill, but Keelie knew that the dark fae were wily.
Several bhata appeared from their nearby hiding places. The dry sound of sticks rubbing together, along with the crackling whir of wings, surrounded her. She felt a tug on her hair and put her hand up carefully to feel for the creature. She’d become used to the bhata, but it was still strange to feel one in her hair.
Her fingers touched something long and slender, shorter than a chopstick, followed by a fuzzy softness that she knew to be moss, which the bhata used to bind together their stick-and-berry bodies. She lowered her hand, not surprised to see the little bhata riding on it as if it were a fairy elevator.
“Hello, little guy. Any chance you can show me where Under-the-Hill is?”
The bhata ’s hands, made of grass seedheads, flew up to cover purple berry eyes. It chattered and backed away on her hand.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve been there before, you know. Just not here at the High Mountain Faire.”
One berry eye peeked out from behind the improvised hands. The bhata seemed to consider her for a moment, then chirped and flew straight up. Others joined it, until the air was filled with the clicking sticks.
The little creatures hopped from branch to branch, flew, and skittered over the ground. Keelie followed them, stepping carefully to avoid crunching one underfoot. Not that it would hurt them-the sticks and moss were just what the bhata assembled for a physical presence, and Knot loved to chase them down and trash them. Apparently they didn’t mind, since it gave them an excuse to chase Knot down and try to disassemble him. So far, he was still in one piece.
The bhata moved faster, and Keelie and Knot hurried after them. They were heading through the woods that edged the faire and circling around to the performer’s campground.
She closed her mind to the trees so that word wouldn’t get back to Dad about where she was going. He would never let her go Under-the-Hill again, not after the goblin battle in the Northwoods.
The bhata whirred and clacked around her, and she realized that they were circling now, a buzzing vortex that was pushing her forward.
Ahead of her was the raw rock face of the mountain that towered over the faire. Keelie stopped. She was not going to go rock climbing. Not in her job description.
The bhata clung to the jagged rocks. A spindly pine grew from a patch of dirt about twenty feet up. Maybe it had some answers.
Hail, hill climber, Keelie greeted it. Trees liked to be given names.
Well met, Tree Shepherdess, the tree answered politely. Behind the tree’s soft words, Keelie heard a chorus of tree voices also greeting her. She considered ignoring them, but she might need their help to find Under-the-Hill and keep watch over the forests. Trees saw everything.
You honor me.
Be careful, the bhata whispered to her. Do not go in.
A large granite rock at the base of the mountain soared from the dense carpet of grass like a lone Egyptian
