A Hat Full Of Sky

admitted.
    “Do you mean you charge in regardless?”
    “Oh, aye. That’s the plan, sure enough,” said Rob Anybody, brightening up.
    “And then what happens?”
    “Weel, gen’raly people are tryin’ tae wallop us by then, so we just make it up as we gae along.”
    “Yes, Robert, but the creature is inside her head!”
    Rob Anybody gave Billy a questioning look.
    “Robert is a heich-heidit way o’ sayin’ Rob,” said the gonnagle, and to save time he said to Miss Level: “That means kinda posh.”
    “Ach, we can get inside her heid, if we have to,” said Rob. “I’d hoped tae get here afore the thing got to her, but we can chase it.”
    Miss Level’s face was a picture. Two pictures.
    “ Inside her head ?” she said.
    “Oh, aye,” said Rob, as if that sort of thing happened every day. “No problemo. We can get in or oout o’ anywhere. Except maybe pubs, which for some reason we ha’ trouble leavin’. A heid? Easy.”
    “Sorry, we’re talking about a real head here, are we?” said Miss Level, horrified. “What do you do, go in through the ears?”
    Once again, Rob stared at Billy, who looked puzzled.
    “No, mistress. They’d be too small,” he said patiently. “But we can move between worlds, ye ken. We’re fairy folk.”
    Miss Level nodded both heads. It was true, but it was hard to look at the assembled ranks of the Nac Mac Feegle and remember that they were, technically, fairies. It was like watching penguins swimming underwater and having to remember that they were birds.
    “And?” she said.
    “We can get intae dreams, ye see…. And what’s a mind but another world o’ dreamin’?”
    “No, I must forbid that!” said Miss Level. “I can’t have you running around inside a young girl’s head! I mean, look at you! You’re fully grow…well, you’re men! It’d be like, like…well, it’d be like you looking at her diary!”
    Rob Anybody looked puzzled.
    “Oh, aye?” he said. “We looked at her diary loads o’ times. Nae harm done.”
    “You looked at her diary ?” said Miss Level, horrified. “Why?”
    Really, she thought later, she should have expected the answer.
    “’Cuz it wuz locked,” said Daft Wullie. “If she didna want anyone tae look at it, why’d she keep it at the back o’ her sock drawer? Anyway, all there wuz wuz a load o’ words we couldna unnerstan’ an’ wee drawings o’ hearts and flowers an’ that.”
    “Hearts? Tiffany?” said Miss Level. “Really?” She shook herself. “But you shouldn’t have done that! And going into someone’s mind is even worse!”
    “The hiver is in there, mistress,” said Awf’ly Wee Billy meekly.
    “But you said you can’t do anything about it!”
    “ She might. If we can track her doon,” said the gonnagle. “If we can find the wee bitty bit o’ her that’s still her . She’s a bonny fighter when she’s roused. Ye see, mistress, a mind’s like a world itself. She’ll be hidin’ in it somewhere, lookin’ oout though her own eyes, listenin’ wi’ her own ears, tryin’ to make people hear, tryin’ no’ to let yon beast find her…and it’ll be hunting her all the time, trying tae break her doon….”
    Miss Level began to look hunted herself. Fifty small faces, full of worry and hope and broken noses, looked up at her. And she knew she didn’t have a better plan. Or even a PLN.
    “All right,” she said. “But at least you ought to have a bath. I know that’s silly, but it will make me feel better about the whole thing.”
    There was a general groan.
    “A bath? But we a’ had one no’ a year ago,” said Rob Anybody. “Up at the big dew pond for the ships!”
    “Ach, crivens!” said Big Yan. “Ye canna ask a man tae take a bath again this soon, mistress! There’ll be nothin’ left o’ us!”
    “With hot water and soap!” said Miss Level. “I mean it! I’ll run the water and I…I’ll put some rope over the edge so you can climb in and out, but you will get clean. I’m a wi—a hag, and you’d better do what I say!”
    “Oh, all reet!” said Rob. “We’ll do it for the big wee hag. But ye’re no’ tae peek, okay?”
    “Peek?” said Miss Level. She pointed a trembling finger. “Get into that bathroom now!”

    Miss Level did, however, listen at the door. It’s the sort of thing a witch does.
    There was nothing to hear at first but the gentle splash of water, and then:
    “This is no’ as bad as I thought!”
    “Aye, very pleasin’.”
    “Hey,