Bewitching Boots by Jim Lavene, Joyce

upset, so I tabled the discussion. “Let me think about it. Maybe there’s some way for me to say it. I want to tell the police about Isabelle shaming Sir Dwayne at the museum too. I can tell Detective Almond about that, and maybe mention her relationship with her ladies.”
    “The ladies, definitely,” Rita drawled. “Sir Dwayne has always been good to her. I’ve never heard him say a cross word to anyone.”
    That didn’t fit my image of Sir Dwayne who had struck me as being a bully at the museum. I was sure Rita had her own reasons to defend him.
    Rita hugged me. “Thank you, Jessie. Please try to keep my name out of it.”
    “Just one thing—why were you smoking in the garden? I thought everyone smoked in the courtyard.”
    “Just for a change. I don’t know. Sometimes I sneak out there to enjoy the greenery.”
    She thanked me again and scurried away.
    I sighed when I thought about finding Detective Almond. Manny needed a real break. I convinced myself I should take care of that first and then tell the police what I’d heard and seen.
    The Village was filled to capacity despite the hot summer day. Of the thousands of visitors, a large group was wearing the red nametags that identified them as possible replacements for the Village. Jugglers, bubble blowers, men and women dressed as cows and horses, passed me. There were several unicorns with flowered harnesses and painted hooves. I really liked a singing troubadour wearing red satin. He had a wonderful voice and was nice to look at too. I marked him down in my book.
    There was still a line waiting to get into the museum. That was exciting since the refreshments and music were long gone. It looked as though my shoemaker was going to draw the largest crowd ever.
    “Thank goodness you got back,” Manny said after I had fought my way up the stairs. “I’m parched, and that pretzel only left me hungry. What happened at the castle?”
    I gave him the fifty-cent tour, which brought him up to speed. As we spoke, I watched Bill with the visitors. They were spellbound by him. His hands moved slowly across the leather as he worked. He kept up a dialog about his elf ancestors that seemed to captivate his audience.
    I sent Manny off for an hour. I’d have Bill take a break when the museum wasn’t so busy.
    A pretty, young woman wearing a green snood lifted her skirt so Bill could look at her foot. As with Isabelle, he went into raptures over the beauty of her instep and her toes.
    “Please sit here and I’ll fit these boots on you, my dear.” Bill got up from his chair and took the woman’s hand. She giggled as she sat in his spot, crossed one leg over the other, and held up her foot.
    Gallantly, Bill got down on one knee with a boot in his hand. Cameras clicked and flashes illuminated the museum as visitors took plenty of pictures. I wished I could take a picture too, but the Royal Photographer was gone already, and residents weren’t allowed to have such devices. I could only hope Bill had put on a good show while the photographer was still there.
    He tickled the girl’s foot. “What do you want to do in these boots?”
    She smiled and hid behind a pretty green fan. “I’d like to walk quickly and comfortably everywhere I go.”
    Bill lowered his head as though he were whispering to the boots while he laced them on her narrow feet. “There you are. Try them out—but beware. Others have been taken over by the magic I put into them. I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”
    The young woman in green and gold got to her feet with his help. Suddenly, one of her feet started jumping around as though she’d lost control of it. “Oh! What’s happening?”
    “You’d better sit down,” Bill said. “That may have been too much magic.”
    But before she could do as he said, she began jumping and running around the museum. She cried out that her feet were running away with her. She didn’t appear able to stop. People moved out of her way as she leapt