Tengu led the way into the trees, following the loud sound of snoring. He pushed aside the branches and thorns for Willa, but she still found it hard to keep up with the agile little man. Once she heard a strange breath, like a sigh, that came from all sides at once. It sounded ancient and sad and chilled her to the bone. She hurried to catch up to Tengu, who was waiting for her.
“You’d better stick with me. Don’t want you wandering off on your own. You might fall in the pool or something.”
“There’s a pool?”
He waved vaguely toward the open area. “Yes, but it’s all grown over, full of weeds and slimy things. Best left alone.” They continued on.
Finally, beside the stable, they came upon a very strange sight. Robert was sound asleep sitting against the stone wall. Lying on the ground around him were a couple dozen little fairies, also asleep. With their long hair matted and their leafy clothing in severe disarray, they looked like discarded dolls. All was quiet except for snoring, Robert’s booming and the wood nymphs’ squeaky little snorts.
Willa couldn’t help but laugh. “So these are wood nymphs!”
Tengu nodded, also giggling a little. “A real disgrace, they are.”
Willa always had an eye on the Hackett house. To her relief the corner of the garden where Robert and the nymphs were passed out was shielded from the neighbours’ sight by thick vines and branches. However, they had to traverse a rather open area of the yard to get back in the house, so she fetched a blanket to throw over Robert’s head and shoulders. It was quite a struggle, but they finally got him to his feet, or his hooves, and he lurched toward the back door, moaning and grumbling.
Willa could see Mr. and Mrs. Hackett sitting in their kitchen, and when Robert’s hooves hit the back steps with a loud thud, Mr. Hackett leaned to peer out the window at them. Pulling the blanket firmly over Robert’s head, Willa and Tengu desperately shoved him into the kitchen, resulting in more crashing and cursing. Willa was stumbling up the steps, about to follow them inside, when she heard Mr. Hackett.
“Oh, Willaaaa!” He was on the back step now, hands on his hips. He wore that smug look that could only mean he had a grievance.
Willa sighed and conjured up a cheerful expression. “Hello, Mr. Hackett.”
“Was that a horse I just saw? It’s against zoning to have livestock, you know.”
“No, no,” Willa laughed nervously. “It’s not a real horse, just a costume. We, uh, had a costume party last night. I hope we didn’t make too much noise.” She knew the mention of noise would divert Mr. Hackett’s attention away from Robert. Noise was one of his favourite topics. She was right.
“Indeed! An unholy row it was, and after midnight too!” He was just getting revved up when Mrs. Hackett popped her head out the door.
“Later than that. I looked at my bedside clock and it said one thirty-seven precisely. I remember. One thirty-seven.”
“It’s really unacceptable, Willa,” continued Mr. Hackett. “I very nearly called the police.”
“Oh, thank you for not calling. It won’t happen again. We won’t have any more parties, I promise.”
“I should hope not,” sniffed Mrs. Hackett, patting her curlers and disappearing inside. Mr. Hackett remained, still peering curiously at the house. Willa smiled brightly, edging away.
“Welllll, anyway ... sorry for your trouble. Have a nice day!” As she opened the kitchen door there was another loud crash from inside. She gave Mr. Hackett another smile and a shrug, and hurried inside.
Robert had paused for a breather, leaning against the kitchen wall, and Tengu was picking up the chairs he’d knocked over. Willa took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.
“Okay. We’ll get Robert up to his room where he can sleep it off.” Robert merely grunted in reply and rubbed his eyes. Willa squinted out the window. “I hope the nymphs are all right out there.”
“They’ll have to be,” replied Tengu. “We can’t bring them in here. They don’t get along with Mab at all. Some kind of fairy feud.”
Willa froze. “Omigosh. Mab!”
Rushing into the parlour, she retrieved the tiny key from the mantlepiece and paused before the dollhouse. She’d locked Mab in there before dinner last night and had forgotten to let her out again. She unclicked the lock and swung the side of the house open to see Mab sitting on the bed, arms crossed and staring daggers at her. The fairy’s face was purple with rage. Willa stuttered her apologies but Mab silently glared her down. Willa was relieved for the distraction of Robert clip-clopping through the house, moaning piteously. She joined Tengu, watching helplessly as the centaur staggered up the stairs, leaning against the wall or the bannister, which creaked under his weight, threatening imminent collapse. At the top he knocked a painting off the wall, slumped around the corner, and finally disappeared into his room.
Willa sighed. “No more booze for Robert.”
Willa awoke the next morning to the strangest sound she’d ever heard, like a trumpet being strangled. She opened her eyes and had a moment of confusion, taking in the dark, musty room instead of her bright, clean room at home. Then she remembered where she was, and knew the noise to be Tengu greeting the day with his rooster impression. She looked up at the ceiling, and her brain felt just as dusty, cracked, and cobwebby as the room around her. This was the second night she hadn’t had any dreams, and her head felt like it was filled with mud. Every thought required great effort and she felt vaguely anxious.
She moved clumsily down the stairs. It was like she was on a planet with a force of gravity that made her weigh twice as much as she did on Earth, only she couldn’t remember whether it was small planets or big planets that would do that. Her thoughts were scattered and leaden. It was only when she glanced over at Fadiyah, serene and dignified in her cage in the parlour, that she felt calm and capable again.
In the dining room it was evident that she wasn’t the only one who was having trouble waking up. Belle was snoring in her chair in the corner, her head tipped back and mouth open. Horace stared blankly into space and rubbed his temples.
“Good morning,” Willa ventured, just as the kitchen door swung open and banged her elbow. Baz shuffled in with the teapot and cups on a tray. She paused to yawn, her hands shaking with the force of it, and tea slopped onto the floor.
Nobody had much to say, other than that they were all sleeping poorly and without dreams, just like Willa. And it was taking its toll. Even the normally chipper Tengu was subdued. Robert didn’t get out of bed until noon, but that could have been due to the crashing hangover he claimed to still have. Mab, on the other hand, seemed energetic enough, even spritely. Willa was positive she caught a smirk on her face when the others complained about being tired. Mab was still mad, though, about being locked up, and wouldn’t speak to anyone.
Over the next few days Willa wearily struggled to keep up with her duties, only leaving the house to buy groceries and to go home one night for dinner. At the table she could barely keep up a conversation and yawned so much her parents were alarmed.
“How hard are those oldsters working you?” her dad wanted to know. “Aren’t you getting enough sleep?”
Willa insisted that she was. In fact, she was going to bed embarrassingly early these days, at eight or nine o’clock.
And she wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the house was sleeping in later each day, napping frequently through the day, and heading upstairs to go to bed at earlier and earlier hours in the evening, yet with each passing day they