A Hat Full Of Sky

but said: “Um, do you want to get dressed?”
    Tiffany looked down at her green dress. “I am.”
    “Um, don’t you have any gems or beads or amulets or anything?”
    “No, sorry,” said Tiffany.
    “Um, you must at least have a shamble, surely?”
    “Um, can’t get the hang of them,” said Tiffany. She hadn’t meant the “um,” but around Petulia it was catching.
    “Um…a black dress, perhaps?”
    “I don’t really like black. I prefer blue or green,” said Tiffany. “Um…”
    “Um. Oh well, you’re just starting,” said Petulia generously. “I’ve been crafty for three years.”
    Tiffany looked desperately at the nearest half of Miss Level.
    “In the craft,” said Miss Level helpfully. “Witchcraft.”
    “Oh.” Tiffany knew she was being very unfriendly, and Petulia with her pink face was clearly a nice person, but she felt awkward in front of her and she couldn’t work out why. It was stupid, she knew. She could do with a friend. Miss Level was nice enough, and she managed to get along with Oswald, but it would be good to have someone around her own age to talk to.
    “Well, I’d love to come,” she said. “I know I’ve got a lot to learn.”

    The passengers inside the stagecoach had paid good money to be inside on the soft seats and out of the wind and the dust, and therefore it was odd that so many got out at the next stop and went and sat on the roof.
    The few who didn’t want to ride up there or couldn’t manage the climb sat huddled together on the seat opposite, watching the new traveler like a group of rabbits watching a fox and trying not to breathe.
    The problem wasn’t that he smelled of ferrets. Well, that was a problem, but compared to the big problem it wasn’t much of one. He talked to himself. That is, bits of him talked to other bits of him. All the time.
    “Ah, it’s fair boggin’ doon here. Ah’m tellin ye! Ah’m sure it’s my turn to be up inna heid!”
    “Hah, at leas’ youse people are all cushy in the stomach—it’s us in the legs that has tae do all the work!”
    At which the right hand said: “Legs? Youse dinna know the meanin’ of the word ‘work’! Ye ought tae try being stuck in a glove! Ach, blow this for a game o’ sojers! Ah’m gonna stretch ma legs!”
    In horrified silence the other passengers watched one of the man’s gloved hands drop off and walk around on the seat.
    “Aye, weel, it’s nae picnic doon here inna troosers, neither. A’m gonna let some fresh air in right noo!”
    “Daft Wullie, don’t you dare do that — ”
    The passengers, squeezing even closer together, watched the trousers with terrible fascination. There was some movement, some swearing under the breath in a place where nothing should be breathing, and then a couple of buttons popped and a very small red-headed blue man stuck his head out, blinking in the light.
    He froze when he saw the people.
    He stared.
    They stared.
    Then his face widened into a mad smile.
    “Youse folks all right?” he said, desperately. “That’s greaaat! Dinna worry aboout me—I’m one o’ they opper-tickle aloosyon’s, ye ken?”
    He disappeared back into the trousers, and they heard him whisper: “I’m thinkin’ I fooled ’em easily, no problemo!”
    A few minutes later the coach stopped to change horses. When it set off again, it was minus the inside passengers. They got off, and asked for their luggage to be taken off, too. No thank you, they did not want to continue their ride. They’d catch the coach tomorrow, thank you. No, there was no problem in waiting here in this delightful little, er, town of Dangerous Corner. Thank you. Good-bye.
    The coach set off again, somewhat lighter and faster. It didn’t stop that night. It should have done so, and the rooftop passengers were still eating their dinner in the last inn when they heard it set off without them. The reason probably had something to do with the big heap of coins now in the driver’s pocket.

CHAPTER 5
    The Circle
    T iffany walked through the woods while Petulia flew unsteadily alongside in a series of straight lines. Tiffany learned that Petulia was nice, had three brothers, wanted to be a midwife for humans as well as pigs when she grew up, and was afraid of pins. She also learned that Petulia hated to disagree about anything .
    So parts of the conversation went like this:
    Tiffany said, “I live down on the Chalk.”
    And Petulia said, “Oh, where they keep all those sheep? I don’t like