Ghastly Glass (2 page)

I was hoping not to need a roomie or Village housing because I’d be staying with Chase. But maybe not. I wouldn’t know for sure until I saw him, hopefully not wrapped around some smug little fairy or one of the story-book characters that inhabited Renaissance Village.

“I’m glad to see you, too.” I smiled at Debby. The line for costumes had moved closer to the shop, and the Black Dwarf had moved on with his cheery message.

But in fact, the Village crier was right about Death stalking the Village. I was looking right at him. Complete with black robe and huge scythe, he was Death incarnate. He was tall, too. Or on stilts.

Debby laughed at me when she saw I couldn’t take my eyes from the character. “You just got here, right? Let me introduce Ross, or as we like to call him, Mr. Big.” She turned to the spectacularly frightening figure of death. “Ross DeMilo, meet my good friend, Jessie Morton, of late apprenticed to Mary Shift at Wicked Weaves. Jessie, this is Ross. And he’s gonna get you if you don’t watch out.”

Ross pulled back his black hood, frowning at me. His brown hair was greased back from his narrow, skull-shaped face. He wasn’t on stilts. He was just tall and thin, his ribs showing beneath his black Renaissance Village T-shirt.

“Welcome to Renaissance Village, a horrible place to live but a worse place to die. I am Death, the original dark stalker. My scythe will separate your body from your soul.”

As terrifying speeches went, it was pretty good. He had a deep John Carradine voice that added a certain monster charm that worked even in the bright September sunshine. I didn’t want to think what it would do after dark.

“Hi. That’s a great costume.” I smiled at him, then he moved away, mingling with the crowd. I turned to Debby, who was in a red wench’s costume. “Where’s your scary outfit? I thought everyone was dressing up.”

“Today is the last day to trade in your non-Halloween costume for the scary one.” She shrugged. “I figure why do anything right away when you can wait until the last minute. There are plenty of people who say they aren’t dressing up for Halloween. Robin Hood and the Merry Men aren’t into it, and neither are some of the Craft Guild. They want the dancing girls at the Caravan Stage to dress up like witches. Kind of corny, huh? ”

I should mention that a lot of people at Renaissance Village take their roles very seriously. They live and work here all year and sometimes get a little weird. Robin and his Merry Men tend to be that way more than most since they hang out in Sherwood Forest dispatching brigands and stealing toaster ovens from the rich to give to the poor.

“How do the people from Adventure Land feel about people
not
dressing up?” I looked around at the milling crowd of residents and visitors. Adventure Land is the owner of the Village and supposedly dictates the rules and regulations. “Has Robin told Livy and Harry about this? ”

“You are behind the times, I fear, good lady. Queen Olivia and King Harold are on the royal outs. Neither one is taking visitors or problems. It looks as though they’re leaving that to our good bailiff, Chase Manhattan. Methinks you know of him. Tall fellow who has shoulders like a Viking and tends to be good at most sporting events? ”

Yeah. I know him
. I glanced around at the crowd forming outside the costume keeper’s shop, hoping to see his handsome, smiling face. No such luck.

I stood in line behind the fairy talking to Debby about her life at the Village. I was surprised she wasn’t living with Fred the Red Dragon, but she laughed when I mentioned it. “You were so right about not getting involved with any of these guys on a permanent basis, Jessie. I’m over Fred. Now I’m seeing the new blacksmith. His name is Hans Von Rupp. He’s from Latvia or Germany. Somewhere in Europe. He’s
big
, too.” She giggled. “All over. He can lift me with one arm and—”

“Sounds like fun.” I cut her off, not wanting to hear so much that my ears started bleeding. Why do people always feel they have to give you more information than you need?

I wished I could just ask if she’d seen Chase with Little Miss Muffet or one of the underdressed woodland creatures. I couldn’t. I wasn’t willing to sound that needy. I was really sure everything was fine anyway. It had only been a few weeks since we last saw each other. No reason to panic just because I’d been here an hour already and hadn’t seen him.

The fairy in front of me was at the window where Portia the costume keeper handed out daily apparel to those of us who didn’t own the costumes we wore everyday. “I hope I’m not going to be one of those dead people walking around,” the fairy told Portia. “I didn’t come all the way from Texas to be a zombie.”

Portia put a gauzy, gray garment in front of her. “All fairies are wraiths for the duration of the Halloween season. Please turn in your wings when you exchange costumes. Wraiths do
not
fly in the Village.”

“What? This is big and long,” the fairy complained. “My legs are my best feature. I can’t work like this.”

“Then go back to Texas,” Portia recommended, sounding tired as always. “Next? ”

Debby smiled at the unhappy fairy/wraith. “Look at it this way, wraiths don’t have to wash their hair or dye it. You’ll save time and money during the next few weeks.”

The fairy, about to turn wraith, hissed at Debby, “Stay out of my way or I’ll take you straight to hell.”

Like I said, an intense group of people. While Debby and the fairy-turned-wraith argued about what the other deserved, I stepped up to the window and smiled at Portia. “This is exciting, huh? The first Halloween in Renaissance Village. I’m really looking forward to it.”

She glanced at me. “Where are you working, Julie? ”

“Jessie.” I smiled again. It hadn’t been
that
long. What was wrong with everyone? How could they all just forget me? “I’m apprenticing at the Glass Gryphon until Halloween. What kind of costume do you have cooked up for me? ”

Portia yawned. Her graying black hair was pulled starkly away from her thin face. “Craft Guild has a choice between ghosts and witches.”

Ghosts and witches? Neither one sounded appealing. “What does the ghost costume look like? ”

“If I take it out, it’s yours for the duration. I’m not dragging costumes out for everyone to look over at this point. Ghost or witch? ”

I tried to imagine which one would be less likely to catch on fire since I’d be working with flame as an apprentice glassblower. I tend to have a little bad luck when it comes to my apprenticeships. I didn’t want to catch on fire, no matter how memorable that might seem to some diehard Ren-Faire visitors.

“Ghost. I look better in white.”

Portia lifted a black costume complete with pointed hat. “Sorry. Fresh out. Try again at the beginning of the week. Good to have you back. Enjoy your stay.”

Was it just me or did everyone seem to have a bad attitude about this venture? Where was the spirit? Where was the excitement?

“Next.” Portia looked past me at Debby. “All bawdy wenches are the undead.”

“The undead what?” Debby demanded. “You mean vampires? Or zombies? ”

“I’ll see you later.” I tactfully sneaked away before it got any worse. This visit to Renaissance Village wasn’t turning out the way I’d envisioned. No Chase. No excitement. I was disappointed to say the least.

“Greetings, good lady!” A handsome lord doffed his large feathered hat in a deep bow. “Might you be the apprentice for the Glass Gryphon? ”

My heart sped up a little when I took in the excellent attributes that even his lordly apparel couldn’t hide. His hair was thick, chestnut brown, gleaming with red highlights in the sun. His smiling blue eyes looked me over from the tight jeans to the low-neck green sweater I’d worn for Chase, who wasn’t around to appreciate me. All in all, a sweet welcome package.

“I’m Jessie Morton, good sir. Who might you be?” I dropped him a little curtsy that showed off a couple of my attributes.

“I am Henry Trent, nephew of Roger Trent, owner of the Glass Gryphon. My uncle sent me to meet you and escort you through the Village to the shop. Are you ready to go? ”

I knew I should get my bag from the car and settle in with Debby, but this seemed a good opportunity to meet Roger again and go over my responsibilities as an apprentice glassblower. You had to be careful in the Village or the craftsman you served would have you running errands and picking up laundry from the Lovely Laundry Ladies instead of learning the craft.

Since I’m already working on my dissertation, which I hope will become a book someday, my research here has become very important to me. I’ve titled my dissertation, “Proliferation of Renaissance Crafts in Modern Times.” I’ve already apprenticed with a Gullah basket weaver at Wicked Weaves and Master Archer Simmons at the Feathered Shaft. This time it’s glassblowing. Who knows what it will be next summer? I’ve talked to a few other Craft Guild members like the Hands of Time clock shop and Pope’s Pots pottery shop. I’m ready for anything.

Especially if a good-looking man comes along with the project. It can’t hurt. “Lead on, good sir.”

Henry swept me another elegant bow, then took my hand and laid it on his forearm as we started walking through Renaissance Village.

The Village is situated on the site of the old Myrtle Beach Air Force Base. Most of the shops have living quarters above them for the full-time merchants. The rest of the space is filled with part-timers like me, about three hundred of them at any given time.

Unlike most Renaissance faires, this one goes on every day except Christmas day. It’s open from morning to evening seven days a week with the King’s Feast held at the castle every Sunday night. Hundreds of thousands of visitors come through the main gate every year to be delighted and swept back in time, with Shakespeare walking the cobblestone streets reciting odes, King Arthur retrieving Excalibur from the stone every two hours, and fantasy creatures ready to have their picture taken. The experience is nonstop fun, excitement, and good food. Adventure Land, the parent company, says it will be so, and it is.

“How was your trip to the Village, my lady?” Henry asked as we walked past the first fountain toward the hatchet-throwing contest.

“It went well, thank you. How is your uncle?” The monks were chanting in the Monastery Bakery, a good sign usually because it meant they were baking instead of getting into other kinds of trouble. Their bread is to die for, but their quasi-religion of the Brotherhood of the Sheaf is a little strange.

“My uncle is quite well. I am here visiting him because I am opening another shop for him outside the Village.” Henry smiled at me, his big blue eyes crinkling at the corners. I
love
men with crinkly eyes.

We were passing the elegant houses on Squire’s Lane, which are eclipsed only by the sight of the castle rising above Mirror Lake where the pirates live. There was loud laughter coming from Peter’s Pub, a favorite of Village residents after hours. It was Friday and there was a good crowd around.

Lady Godiva rode by with her body suit and butt-length blond wig. I didn’t have to look closely to see that Arlene, the last Lady Godiva, had been replaced. Everything here is transitory. People come and go all the time. Even shops and restaurants change from time to time. Nothing like a real Renaissance village where the same families lived and died for generations.

“Hail to thee, Mistress Jessica!” Alex, one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men (and a former summer love of mine), walked by us quickly. “I see you have selected a new gentleman friend.”

I knew this was a jab at the many years I’d been coming to the Village and seemingly finding a new love interest each time. I wanted to set that rumor to rest before he spread it everywhere. “I’m working with Henry and Roger during the Halloween season. That’s it.”

Alex laughed, nearly unsettling his forest green hat from his blond head. “Of course, good lady. Who would think otherwise? ”

I was about to protest on my own behalf when Henry swept me down into his arms and planted his mouth on mine. It was only an instant before he set me back on my feet.
All right
. I said he was interesting. But not
that
interesting. At least not in the first twenty minutes of meeting him.

I was about to wipe the grin from both their faces when someone behind me cleared his throat. I didn’t have to look. It was Chase, of course. He might not have been there to greet me in the first hour when I didn’t do anything but look for him. But he managed to be there for the split second I got into trouble. Why do things like this always happen to me?

All four of us stood there as though time really had stopped, just as the ads for the Village promised. I guessed Alex and Henry were waiting to see what would happen next. It suddenly occurred to me that Henry may have been in the Village long enough to know about me and Chase. Had he seen Chase coming as I spoke to Alex and purposely tried to break us up? I didn’t want to judge him right away, but my relationship with Chase could be on the line.

Without hesitating (any further), I hauled back and slapped Henry. His head jerked back, and he looked at me with real hurt in his eyes. “Sorry, my lady. I could not resist your tempting lips a moment longer.”

I glared at Alex. He laughed and trotted off toward Sherwood Forest. I turned my attention back to Henry, who was still standing there. “I’ll meet you and your uncle at the Glass Gryphon shortly, sir. Please give him my regards while I take care of another matter.”

Henry bowed, seemingly chastened, but the evil little smile on his face told me otherwise. “I will take your message to my uncle.” He nodded at Chase. “Good day to you, Bailiff.”

When we were finally alone (except for the hundreds of visitors, wandering knaves, and a few serfs), I turned to Chase. “Hi there.”

“Hi.” He was staring at me in an un-Chase-like way. Normally he’d be running up, throwing me in the air (not a small task since I’m six feet tall and not at all waiflike). There was no big grin on his handsome face, no big kiss coming my way.