Part 10 (1/2)

have. You didn't see a Skerry every night, much less under full

moons at midnight in a Castle garden.

”But you notice they didn't tell the Family,” I said. ”That's mighty

odd, seems to me. Seems to me that would of been the first thing to do.”The girl rubbed her nose and stared down at the floor, scuffing one shoe back and forth. Not only sloppy, but wasteful, too.

”The Housekeeper told us not to,” she said sullenly. ”She carried on about it till we were all sick of listening-what she'd do if we

bothered the Master and the Missus with it... bothered them, that's how she put it!””Well?” I asked her. ”Do you have any inkling in your head why she might of taken it that way?”

She sniffled. ”I don't know,” she said. ”I just know I'm scared. And it's not fair-I already had my share of bad luck.””Ivy of Wommack,” I said patiently, ”have you given this tale any thought atall? Other than to fret yourself about it, I mean?”

”What way should I be thinking about it?”

”Well, for starters, where do the Skerrys live?”

”In the desert on Marktwain,” she said promptly.

”Quite right. In the desert on Marktwain. The only patch of desert

on this planet, girl, and left desert only out of courtesy to the Skerrys. They were here first, you know, and it was desert then.”

”Yes, miss.”

”And since that's true, and Skerrys can't live outside the desert, why in the name of the Twelve Gates and the Twelve Corners

would one turn up on Mizzurah, many and many a long mile from its desert, and of all unlikely places, sitting on a well brim? Skerrys hate water, can't abide water, that's why they live in the desert!”

Her mouth took a pout, which was no surprise.

”Really,” she said, ”I'm sure I'm no expert on Skerrys, and it wouldn't be proper if I was, and as to how it got here, my friend

says it would have to be by magic, and she got that from the Senior Attendant, and he's on his way up in the world-he's no fool!”

”Tell me again,” I said. ”Exactly. What did they say?”

”Kyle Fairweather McDaniels the 17th, that's the Senior, and my

friend-never mind her name, because she wasn't supposed to be out of her bed at midnight, much less with Kyle Fairweather-they say that they were down by the well and they saw the Skerry as plain as I see you.”

”Walked right up and touched it, did they? Said howdeedo?””Miss!””Then how did they know it was a Skerry?””Well, miss, what else is eight feet tall and has copper skin, and silver hair as hangs down to its knees? I ask you!”

”It was sitting on the well, Ivy of Wommack, not standing. You go said so yourself. How could they see that it was eight feet tall? And as for the copper skin, a bit of Hallow Even paint will do that- I've

done it myself, and I'll wager you have, too-and a silver wig's easily come by.””They were sure.”

”Were they?””They were.””They were out where they should not of been, doing what they should not of done-”

”I didn't say that.”

”Well, I say it, missy,” I snapped at her, ”and I say it plain, and

between their guilty consciences and the moonlight, it was easy for anybody atall to play a trick on them. And more shame to them for scaring the rest of you with such nonsense... what trashy doings!”

”You don't believe it, then, miss?”

”Certainly not. Nor should you, nor anybody else.”

She sat there beside me, quieter now, though she'd switched from

wrinkling up the counterpane to wringing those skinny little hands that looked like you could snap them the way Michael Stepforth Guthrie'd snapped my ribs. Only with no need for magic, nor much strength, either.

”Feel better now, Ivy of Wommack?” I asked her finally, and I hoped she did, because I wanted a rest and a read before my supper.

I was willing to finish unpacking for myself, if I could just get rid of this skittish creature.

”You know what's said, miss,” she hazarded. I wished she would stop wringing her hands before she wore them out.

”What?” Though I knew quite well.

”That if a Skerry's seen,” she breathed, and I could hear in her voice the echo of a Granny busy laying out the lines, ”that there has to be

a whole day of celebration in its honor. A whole day of no work and all celebration... or it's bad luck for all the people that know of it. And I've worked this livelong day, and so has all the staff!”