I was only thinking out loud, trying to figure out a solution to my unhappiness. I spoke so quietly that Chrissy shouldn’t have been able to hear it. “I wish Robin Hood were around today. He would know what to do.”

“Good choice,” Chrissy said. “He’s totally hot.” She swept her wand in my direction and a flurry of sparkles surrounded me, hundreds of tiny lights zinging everywhere.

“Wait!” I sputtered.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she called, her voice sounding far away. “I wouldn’t let you meet him looking like that. I’ll throw in a free makeover.”

When the light cleared, she and Clover were gone. And there in my bedroom stood a dozen scraggly-looking men.

Chapter 4

For a moment, I just stared at the men. They wore tunics and leggings, with bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. A couple were older, with gray in their hair and beards, but most were young with muscled arms and tanned faces. I guess I had never considered what a bunch of men who lived in the forest and never showered would smell like, but in the confines of my bedroom, the smell of sweat, dirt, and unwashed clothes hit me with nose-curling strength. I tried to breathe through my mouth.

The men looked around my room, drawing swords and knives, then turned to me with fierce expressions.

“Chrissy!” I hissed, both panicked and elated—panicked because a dozen scary men were brandishing weapons, and elated because—talk about superstar sightings—Robin Hood and his Merry Men were in my bedroom.

Chrissy didn’t come back.

“What devilry is this?” one of the men demanded.

“This has the look of magic to it,” another said.

Actually my room had the look of the JCPenney teen department.

Sandra decorated it before I moved in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you here,” I said, gulping. “There’s been a mistake.” A young man with shoulder-length blond hair, a pointed green cap, and a dark green tunic stepped toward me, sizing me up. His features were sharp and flawlessly handsome. His eyes were startlingly blue in his tanned face. Chrissy hadn’t been exaggerating when she said Robin Hood was hot.

56/356

His gaze ran over me, and he raised an eyebrow. I glanced at my reflection in my closet mirror to see what he was looking at. I wore a velvet green dress that swept around my ankles. My hair was pulled up into a bun with loose ringlets. No sign of tears or mascara streaks remained on my face. In fact, I wore bright red lipstick and smoky green eye shadow. This apparently was Chrissy’s idea of a makeover. I looked like I was about to go to the prom.

“Who are you?” Robin Hood asked, his voice cautious. “Why have you brought us hither?”

“I didn’t mean to.” I lifted my hands up to show them I didn’t have a weapon. “It was an accident. I’m trying to get her to come back and fix it.” I glanced around the corners of my ceiling, hoping Chrissy might be floating around up there. “Chrissy, this isn’t what I meant!” Robin Hood sheathed his sword and folded his arms, but the other men kept their swords and knives drawn, which made them seem more menacing than merry. A burly man with a thick brown beard stepped forward. He stood at least six and a half feet tall, towering over everyone else. Little John, I guessed. “Who be this Chrissy you call for?”

I took a step back from him. He didn’t seem to have any concept of personal space. Or hygiene. “Chrysanthemum Everstar. She’s my fairy godmother.”

This caused a round of grumbling from the Merry Men. “I knew it was magic,” one of them growled, and then spat on my carpet.

“Hey,” I said. “You’re inside my bedroom. Don’t do that.” Robin Hood fixed me with a look. “And why, pray tell, did your fairy godmother bring us to your bedchamber?”

“Well, you see, I had a run-in with the police tonight.” When I didn’t see any recognition on Robin Hood’s face, I added, “The police work for the sheriff.”

57/356

“The sheriff!” another man snarled, and spat on my floor.

I could see it sitting there all gooey and gross. I turned to Robin Hood. “Would you please make your men stop spitting on my carpet?”

“What dost thou mean by a run-in?” Robin Hood asked.

I ignored the spit soaking into my carpet. I would clean it up later.

“Basically, it’s where they hauled me into their headquarters and threatened me.” And then, because I really wanted someone to understand what I’d been through, I told them about the whole ordeal with Bo and the officer who tricked me.

Robin Hood and his men listened intently, and when I’d finished, Robin Hood nodded. “I see.”

“Then while I was talking to my fairy godmother about it, I sort of wished that Robin Hood was around.”

“To give the sheriff bigger game to pursue?”

“No,” I said, blinking. “I wouldn’t have wished you into the twenty-first century for that.”

Little John’s jaw dropped open. “The twenty-first century?” I shrugged apologetically. “It’s where I live.” The men turned their attention from me to my bedroom, examining it more closely. One used his sword to push the comforter off my bed, checking to see if it was hiding anything. Several others picked knickknacks off my dresser. They flipped through books, poked at my iPod, opened my drawers. Friar Tuck lifted a necklace out of my jewelry box.

“If you don’t mind,” I said, shutting my underwear drawer and standing in front of it, “this is my personal stuff. I don’t want anyone touching it.”

Little John pushed back my curtains and eyed the houses on the street with interest. “Robin, cast your eyes at those buildings. And be-hold the torches that light the road. They stand as tall as trees!” 58/356

Robin Hood strode over to the window while I tried to keep the Merry Men from tossing things they found uninteresting onto the floor. I was able to rescue my cell phone. My box full of nail polish wasn’t as lucky.

A man the others referred to as Will—I assumed Will Scarlet—took a book from my shelf, opened it, then held it upside down and shook it. His dark hair hung in greasy strands around his shoulders and his beard ended in a sharp point. “What odd, useless things you have in the future.”

I snatched the novel from his hand before he could drop it. “It’s a book, and that’s not how you treat it.” This is what happens when you’re raised by a librarian. Even though I had refused to read books for years, I still couldn’t stand to see one ruined. I reshelved it with a forceful thud. “Chrissy,” I hissed toward the ceiling. “We really need to talk.” My giddy-fan feelings for Robin Hood were fading fast. These men didn’t belong here, and they had to go back before my dad or Sandra discovered them here.

A car passed by our house, and Robin Hood and Little John simultaneously gasped.

Little John leaned into the window until his nose touched the glass. “What strange manner of beast was that? Lights streamed from its face.”

“A car,” I said. “They’re one of the twenty-first century’s very useful things. They’re faster than horses and easier to take care of.” Robin Hood put one hand on the glass and peered farther down the street. “Are they friendly?”

“They’re not alive. They’re machines, like …” but I couldn’t think what machines they had back in the Middle Ages. “They’re tools.

When you turn the key, they start up so you can drive them down the street.”

59/356

Friar Tuck had finished going through my jewelry box and stuffed several rings and necklaces into the pockets of his robe. None of them were expensive, but still. “Hey, stop that,” I said walking over to him.

“You can’t take those.”

He smiled a nearly toothless grin. “I’m simply admiring them.”

“Well, admire them in my jewelry box, not in your pockets.” Another of the Merry Men had thrown open my closet and pulled out shirts. “Behold the finery,” he called to the others. “Her wardrobe puts the king’s to shame.” And then he looked at me accusingly, as though I had been hoarding shirts.