“He’s been like this since I got here.” Henry glanced toward the ceiling. “He doesn’t talk to me. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“Maybe you should ask him.”
“Maybe you should ask him. I don’t really care.” He looped the hot glass into an elegant tail for the dragon. I didn’t like Henry, but I had to admire his artistic hand.
“But he’s your uncle.” I kept watching like I was hypnotized by his movements. The dragon’s body was already formed, but Henry was adding detail. I wondered if I’d be able to do anything like that with the short amount of time I’d have here.
“And I’m watching his shop here and opening a second shop for him near the Pavilion. I think that’s enough for me.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. My eyes continued to follow his movements. He had wonderful hands. His timing was perfect, never allowing the hot glass to go anywhere he didn’t want it to go. I could understand why demonstrations like this drew a big crowd.
“Would you like to try it? ” He looked up at me through his safety glasses.
“No. I’d only make a mess of it. I’ve read a lot about it, but I haven’t tried it yet.” I said no but I really meant yes. I’m sure my eyes gave me away.
“Come on. It’s simple once you get the hang of it. Stand right over here by me. I’ll guide you. You’ll be fine.”
Without thinking of the consequences, I did as he suggested and moved to stand between his parted legs and the workbench. He put one arm down so I could position myself in such a way that his arms were around me with the burner and the glass in front of us.
“Here, you hold this.” He handed me the glass rod he was using to detail the dragon. “I’ll hold the dragon and we’ll manipulate the glass together. See that crest I’m starting on his head? That’s where we’ll work, building it up.”
The heat from the burner was intense, like standing beside a small campfire. I couldn’t move back since I was already practically in Henry’s lap. I was afraid to look at the burner or the glass without safety goggles. In all, it was a bad position to be in. And then I managed to burn myself as he guided my hand. I yelped and dropped the rod, which, of course, shattered all over the floor.
“Look out!” he called too late as I tried to catch the glass rod.
“I’m sorry.” Turning fast, I accidentally pushed his other hand and the beautiful dragon ended up on the floor, too. I was ready to cry. I had destroyed the dragon and burned myself in less than five seconds. Imagine if I’d had a whole day.
“It’s okay.” Henry turned off the burner and removed his goggles. He put his arms around me. I was already in a vulnerable position. Being Henry, he made the most of it. We went from him patting my back to kissing me and nuzzling my neck in less time than it took for me to kill the dragon.
“Now that’s hot!” he said with an evil glitter in his eyes.
The shop door opened, and I prayed it was some unsuspecting visitor who would only imagine what had gone on in the last few minutes. But I’d left my lucky shamrock at home, so it was Chase. “I thought maybe you’d be ready to go. I was making my rounds, so I stopped by,” he said.
Henry made a big deal about moving his legs so I could get out from behind the workbench. Honestly, if there hadn’t been glass all over the floor, I would’ve climbed under the bench rather than go through that elaborate charade. I couldn’t say it wasn’t what it looked like, especially not in front of Henry, who seemed intent on ruining my love life. I thought I should save the long version of the explanation for when Chase and I were alone. Maybe it wouldn’t make any sense, but at least I wouldn’t be pleading my case in front of Henry. It wouldn’t take much more for me to hate this man.
Chase didn’t say anything as he walked out the door. Henry waved and grinned as I closed the door to the shop behind me. What had I gotten myself into this time? Roger was a surly ass, and his nephew was a pain in that same general area. How was I going to learn anything about glassmaking with the two of them?
The Village was closing down around us as Chase and I cut across the King’s Highway toward the dungeon. Already there were signs that things were changing over for Halloween. A few shops were decorated with black bunting. It made them look like they were in mourning. Jack-o’-lanterns were glowing in the twilight.
A group of vampires (once the king’s acrobats) walked past us with a nod at Chase. A few fairies had already donned their wraith costumes. There was no flitting, thank goodness, although they were a little pitiful in their gray shrouds. I could almost feel sorry for them and forget all their evil tricks—and their flirting with Chase.
That thought brought me back to the man at my side. He was walking right next to me but hadn’t looked at me since we left the Glass Gryphon. I tried being cute and sassy, nudging him with my hip and winking when he looked my way. “So I hope you managed to turn off the banshee today.”
“Yeah.”
“Great! I’m looking forward to tonight.”
“Jessie—”
“Chase, he means nothing to me.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” He kicked an empty popcorn container instead of picking it up and putting it in the trash. He was really in a foul mood.
“That’s not exactly what I mean.”
“So he does mean something to you? ” He stopped walking and confronted me right outside the Mother Goose Pavilion. The old goose keeper was finishing off one of her tales for the last group of children that evening. Although it was only around six P.M., it was getting dark. That felt a little weird to me since I usually spend my time here in the summer, when it doesn’t get dark until nine.
I was thinking of the past summer when Chase and I had finally gotten together after years of just being friends. It was so much more than any summer fling I’d ever had at the Village. I hated to see that look of betrayal in his beautiful dark eyes.
“I just met the man, Chase,” I said, trying to reason with him. “How could he mean anything to me? He’s good-looking and he’s got great hands, I’ll give him that much. But what else does he have? He’s opening a shop at the beach for Roger. So what? ”
“I hope that was supposed to make me feel better. Can’t you see what’s happening? Henry knows we’re together and he wants to split us up. He doesn’t care about you. Hell, he probably doesn’t even think you’re attractive!”
That kind of pushed a few bad buttons for me. “We’re just not communicating. We both know what Henry is. I know I could’ve handled the situation better. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Or not thinking,” he muttered.
“Excuse me? Are you the same Chase Manhattan I saw kissing Princess Isabel after the joust last summer? You knew I was standing there and you let her lip-lock you. I thought I was going to have to get something to pry her off your face.”
“You knew why that happened.”
“And I forgave you.” I lifted my head and looked him right in the eye. “Now you have to forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” He started walking again. “Like you said, we both know what Henry’s all about. Just try to stay away from him while you’re here.”
I kept up easily with his rapid strides. Being tall isn’t good for much, but I can walk faster than most men. “That’s fine. But you have to say the words.”
“What words? ”
“What words indeed, Sir Bailiff?” Da Vinci, one of our Village artists, dropped into our conversation as we were walking by him. “A picture is worth many words, my friend. Perhaps I could assist you by drawing the picture in your heart for your lovely lady.”
The short, old guy (at least I think he’s really old—either that or he’s always in character) smiled at me and held his pen at the ready to create a picture of what Chase wanted to say. His robes were still gray and white. I wondered what he’d be wearing tomorrow. He was a member of the Artist Guild, which prided itself on its division from the Craft Gui
ld I belonged to. Artists, it seemed, did not want their work confused with crafts, although I have a hard time defining the difference.
“I don’t think the lady would like to see the picture in my heart right now, Sam. Maybe later.” Chase nodded to him then kept walking.
“Methinks Sir Bailiff is in a foul mood, good lady. Perhaps a glass of ale might be helpful. One never knows the trouble another has until one has sat down with him over ale.”
I didn’t know what to say to that philosophy. I smiled, nodded, and ran after Chase. There are all kinds here in the Village. The monks at the bakery based their philosophy on bread. The pirates that sailed Mirror Lake set their sails by the rites of pillage. I guessed Da Vinci was into ale.
“Wait, Chase!” I had almost caught up with him when Lonnie came out from behind the tree swing, near one of the old huts, and stopped to chat. Great! Just what I needed.
“Hey, Chase. I’ve been looking for you everywhere, man. I heard something went on by the Hawk Stage today. I hope it wasn’t anything bad.” Lonnie’s beady little eyes lit up with hope as he shifted an enormous keg. It was hard for me to believe that little guy could carry something so heavy.
“No, nothing really happened. Thanks for stopping by. Where are you taking that keg? ”
“I’m just taking it over to the Pleasant Pheasant for a party. If you need me for something, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“No, that’s okay. Enjoy yourself. We’re done for the day.” Chase walked up to the dungeon door and opened it. Immediately, the banshee began to wail.
“Oh, yeah.” Lonnie laughed. “I noticed that was broken this afternoon, so I fixed it for you. Nice, huh? ”
Chase put his head against the door. I knew exactly how he felt. It had been a bad day.
“Look, I’m going to get my stuff,” I told him quietly. Lonnie still stood there, taking it all in. Tomorrow the Black Dwarf would be announcing it all over the Village. “It’s been that kind of day. I’ll be right back, and then we’ll have some dinner and talk. Okay? ”
“That sounds good.” Chase took my hand. “I’ll walk over there with you.”
“I’ll be fine. Maybe you can silence the banshee again. Let’s eat at the Pleasant Pheasant, huh? I hear they have a full keg tonight.”
He laughed. “All right. Hurry back.”
As I started to walk away, Chase yelled out, “I forgive you.”
It made me feel better. There were always going to be complications with a man like Chase. Maybe even with a woman like me. Being here made me philosophic. The Village might not be real as far as existing in the past, but it gave me a sense of all those lives that went on before mine. It’s what I love best about history—that feeling of connection with those people who have lived and died for generations before me.
Only a trickle of visitors were walking out the main gate past the turrets where the minstrels played and sang their good-bye songs. Flower girls tossed petals at their tired feet, and ladies of the court bid them adieu. Tomorrow night, the first official night of Halloween, Renaissance Village would be open until midnight. The mist would cling to the streetlights and pool in the shadows. Shopkeepers would hang their lanterns in the doorways to welcome visitors.
God, I love this place!
I walked quickly through the large visitors’ parking area to the smaller parking area for residents. It seemed strange and almost spooky being here this time of year, and I hadn’t even seen good, dead Queen Bess drive by yet. The summer brought the visitors from the beach and the hotels along the Grand Strand with their countless accents and languages from all over the world. The fall would be the same, I supposed, but the difference in the air was more than just a few trees shedding their leaves. It was a good idea to deck the Village out for the holiday.
I picked up my two bags (no point in bringing more since I’d be wearing a costume every day) and locked my car again. Plenty of other cars remained in the residents’ lot, but the visitor parking was empty on this side. The only way into the Village was through the main gate, even for residents. The single entrance was supposed to cut down on shoplifting, but Chase didn’t find that to be the case. Occasionally, someone got in through a hole in the eight-foot-high wall that enclosed the Village just as one would have in Renaissance times.
I walked back thinking about Chase, swinging my bags and deciding which cute nightie I would flaunt that evening. A loud baying sound caught my attention and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
It sounded like a wolf. Of course, I assured myself, this was Renaissance Village. What did I expect? There was bound to be a werewolf or two here for Halloween. Just like Chase’s banshee. It wasn’t real. No doubt the last time anyone had seen a real wolf in this starkly urban area was when Sir Walter Raleigh first got here.
Still, I walked a little faster. I heard the wolf again and laughed out loud. “Good one!” I said for the benefit of anyone who might hear me. I was completely alone, but the jaunty tone seemed to help.
I could see the gate from the parking lot now. All the day’s visitors were gone, as were the minstrels, who had probably set out in hopes of free food from one of the many pubs and restaurants that served the residents leftovers after hours.
The shadows grew longer and deeper as I neared the gate. I walked even faster, though my reasonable assistant professor’s brain told me this was all being set up for the visitors. Wasn’t this what I’d worked so hard to be part of? And here I was, about to be in the Renaissance version of A Nightmare on Elm Street.
A wolf (I swear it sounded like a different wolf) howled again, and I noticed a full moon rising over the castle and Great Hall, visible from the parking lot.
That was it. I clutched my bags and ran for the gate. I wasn’t sure what was going to save me once I got there, but being inside the Village wall seemed safer than being out here alone in the parking area.
I pushed open the heavy portal that would be locked for the night at some point, and a hand came down on my shoulder. I’m sure my scream made a few other residents pause and wonder if it was real or theater.
Four
“Hey! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Detective Almond cleared his throat and moved his hand. “I’m looking for Manhattan. It seems I was wrong about death stalking the Village.”
“What are you talking about? ” My heart was still pounding and I was breathing hard. Terror does not become me.
He pointed behind me. “Death stalking the Village, like the poster says. Only in real life.”
I turned around to study the recently hung poster, which said that Death would be stalking Renaissance Village. There were other references to ghosts, goblins, witches, and demons. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“Don!” Grigg, an ex-Myrtle Beach police officer turned Village resident, greeted his former boss. “I got your message. What’s the problem? ”
Grigg was looking very much a part of the Village. He’d started as an undercover officer for the police but had enjoyed the Village so much he’d decided to stay. He’d spent some time as the Piper’s son but had evidently graduated to become one of the pirates. He wore an eye patch, bandana, and shiny gold earring. I wouldn’t have recognized him if I hadn’t seen him with Detective Almond.
“Grigg. There you are.” He looked his former officer up and down and pulled at his pants, which always seemed to be sliding down. “You look like you’ve gone native, boy. I need some help here. Are you feeling up to it? ”
“I’m a pirate now.” Grigg showed him the required pirate tattoo on his right arm. “Where’s Chase? I’m sure he’d be glad to help you out.”
“That’s just the problem.” Detective Almond glanced around, saw me, but continued anyway. “Manhattan is a fine young man, but he doesn’t have your experience. He needs a hand here, Grigg. There’s likely been a murder.”
Grigg and I exchanged looks. “You mean one of the heatstroke victims? ” Grigg asked.
“No, I mean that
tall boy that was pretending to be Death or whatever. The ME’s preliminary showed the chances are good it wasn’t an accident after all.”
I heard a footstep before I saw Chase. He didn’t look happy. “And why aren’t you telling me about this, Detective? I’m responsible for what happens here. I had to put Grigg in the dungeon twice last month for stealing.”
“Stealing?” He stared at his former officer. “You’ve been taking things that don’t belong to you? ”
Grigg laughed. “It’s all part of living here, Don. I know you don’t understand, but it’s a great life. The Merry Men steal toaster ovens and the occasional loaf of bread from the bakery. The pirates steal more personal things, items closer to the heart.”
“Like underwear from the dancing girls at the Caravan Stage,” Chase continued. “And garters from the Lovely Laundry Ladies. Sometimes the wings right off a fairy.”
Grigg burst out with a hearty combination laugh and pirate yell. “That’s what we do! It makes the place worth living in.”
Detective Almond shook his head. “You people are all crazy! If workers are stealing, Manhattan, why aren’t you turning them in? ”
“We handle our own internal problems, sir,” Chase said. “I only give you visitors who create a problem.”
“That’s why Chase is your man.” Grigg clapped his ex-boss on the shoulder. “Avast, ye landlubbers! We set sail at high moon.”
We all watched Grigg dart away and blend into the shadows. Garbage trucks collecting the day’s trash and electricians setting up new lights for the Halloween season were moving through the streets, making his departure even harder to track.
Chase looked back at Detective Almond. “If you’d like to join Jessie and me, we were about to have some dinner at Peter’s Pub. We can talk over whatever you like there.”
“Peter’s?” I wondered what happened to the Pleasant Pheasant.
Ghastly Glass Page 4