It was the only bright sound in the strange, muffled atmosphere of the fog. At least it was much better than the noise the jester had made the day before, Keelie thought as she hurried up the misty path toward the Heartwood shop. She’d had a good night’s sleep despite the fact that it had been cold and Risa was a real blanket hog. The morning was still chilly, and she was grateful for her Rennie boots with the big bone buttons up the sides. They’d cost her dearly, but she would be comfy and warm all day. She’d heard that lots of people took Fridays off to attend the faire, and she was ready for a crowd this weekend. Her usual Ren Faire garb, of flowy, medieval gowns, was not period for this festival, so Keelie just wore her boots with black pants tucked into them, and a billowy poet’s shirt over a bright red tank top. If the Admin guy didn’t like it, he was welcome to buy her all-new garb. She was only here for three weeks. Knot weaved in and out of her legs as if trying to trip her up.
