The Tree Shepherd's Daughter

by Gillian Summers

  Keelie glared at Scott. She bet he really wasn't sorry for interrupting.

  Zeke sighed. "I was so tired today that I slept and never got downstairs to look at the tree. It's in desperate shape." He walked over to the candles on the table and blew them out. No more golden glow.

  Scott flipped the light switch by the door, and the kitchen light burst into irritating brightness.

  "Keelie, would you serve the spaghetti and bring the plates downstairs? We'll make it a working dinner."

  "Great. Spaghetti for supper." Scott smirked. "Zeke and I've had lots of working dinners in the shop. Oh, and Keelie, sprinkle mine with pepper. Gives it that extra zest-kind of how the pirates like it."

  "Oh, like the pirates I found you with at the pub when you forgot to pick me up?"

  Scott glared at her, glancing quickly at Zeke to judge his reaction. "Soon as we finish, I'm headed to the Shire. Big party there tonight. Drum circle and everything. Everyone's going to miss you." He winked.

  He was so dead.

  "Keelie. Scott. Enough." Zeke shouted. "Let's get to work. Keelie, there's a pitcher of cold mint tea in the refrigerator, too.

  "Fine." She felt like their maid.

  They exited, but Scott opened the door again. "Hey Keelie. I'll take ice with my tea. Ciao."

  She wanted to scream. When did she become a waitress? First, she was serving rat to a hawk, and now she was serving spaghetti to a big dweeb-rat named Scott.

  She opened the kitchen cabinets and slammed pottery plates with leaf impressions onto the counter. "I'll give him extra zest."

  Keelie drained the spaghetti noodles over the sink, then dumped them into a bowl. Something snagged her new blue jeans. She looked down. Two glowing green eyes glared right back at her. "If you don't let go of my pants, I'll kick your butt."

  A heap of chopped garlic was abandoned on a wooden chopping board. "I bet this is for you, but you don't have fleas, do you? Scott does."

  Keelie wiggled her foot again. Knot studied her as she calmly stirred the spaghetti sauce, then ran into the kitchen and hopped into a chair as if he was ready to be served.

  "I'm not going to give you spaghetti. I'm not your waitress, either."

  She walked over to the sink and distributed three equal portions of spaghetti onto three plates. She was about to spoon the sauce over it when she noticed the garlic again. "You know, Scott did say he wanted extra zest in his spaghetti."

  She strategically hid the garlic in the huge mound of spaghetti. Inspired, she searched the kitchen spice cupboard. "Jackpot."

  She sprinkled chili powder on some extra sauce and mixed it into Scott's serving. "Come one, come all-a new show at the Faire. The fire-breathing idiot!"

  Knot purred as he watched her. She placed the three small plates of spaghetti on a tray, reminding herself that Scott's was the dark blue one. She added silverware and napkins by the plates, then hoisted up the tray and headed downstairs. They'd have to get their own tea because she couldn't carry the spaghetti and drinks, too.

  When Keelie pushed the door open to the outside stairs, Knot ran past her.

  "Brain-damaged feline."

  The cat ran down the stairs. She stopped on the last step. She could hear the buzzing of hundreds of little bees. But there weren't any bugs flying around to make that noise.

  Zeke and Scott were in the shop, talking. Knot was nowhere in sight. Annoying as he was, she envied Scott. He knew Zeke better than she did. Her father had taken an interest in him and taught him how to work with wood. She'd gotten an occasional toy.

  She stepped inside, but neither of them noticed her. Zeke's hands were on a massive, scarred trunk of a tree strapped to sawhorses, like a patient on a surgical table. He touched it reverently, caressing the bark.

  Wrong. Something was very wrong here. Keelie felt the air vibrating, like waves coming at her from the tree.

  "So?" Scott's hands were at his side, well away from the big tree.

  "She's still grieving and doesn't want to be shaped into something else. She was taken before her time. She grieves for the sun. She wants to sink her roots back into Mother Earth."

  "What are you talking about?" asked Keelie, pulling a charred piece of wood from the table (oak). She had a brief impression of lightning and fire. A figure moved in the flash.

  The men glanced at her, but the big tree trunk was their main concern.

  "The wood. Come touch her, Keelie," Zeke said.

  "Do you think she should do that?" Scott said. He seemed annoyed.

  She smiled sweetly at him and handed him his plate. "For you."

  "Where's the tea?"

  "Upstairs. Get it yourself."

  She reached out to the tree but drew back her hand as she saw a delicate feminine face, twisted in pain, look out from inside the bark. She closed her eyes, then looked again, but it was just a tree. There was no carving.

  She backed away.

  "Mommy, the tree people say they know me. They know Daddy." Keelie was suddenly back in the park with her mother, small, and reaching up to hold her mommy's hand.

  "There are no tree people, Keelie," Mom had said, but even at age five, Keelie knew she was lying. Mom said she had a wood allergy that made her see and hear things. But if she stayed away from wood she'd be okay. Keelie had never mentioned her wood sense to her mother again.

  Zeke said, "Is something wrong?"

  "It's just my allergy," she said. She backed away from the log. She couldn't touch it. She imagined the tree's despair, and it enveloped her. If she touched it the grief would consume her, and she had enough of her own. It's all in my head, she thought.

  But the tree's imagined grief brought back her own. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Mom was supposed to be here, alive and strong, face to the sun and feet on the Earth. Keelie trembled. She wanted to cry.

  "Mom." The word came out in a moan.

  Dad hugged her. "It's okay, Keelie. I'm here for you. And I'm never letting you go again." She wrapped her arms around him.

  Scott shouted, "Oh man, that's hot."

  Knot jumped onto the log. Keelie stepped back, but Zeke kept an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer.

  The buzzing noise Keelie heard became louder and more distinct, like little pieces of conversation, the murmurs of different tiny voices blending together.

  Knot's weird eyes were round marbles of black rimmed in green. His tail swished like a writhing cobra. His ears were slicked back to his head, making his bald spot all the more prominent. He growled, staring at the air above him.

  Keelie looked around to see if another cat was challenging him, but there was nothing around except that weird noise, which was getting louder and louder. Maybe the cat was having a psychotic fit.

  Leaping from the log, Knot landed on the ground, then shot across the clearing and climbed five feet up a nearby oak tree. He jumped from the tree and landed on the ground, turning on his back to paw at the air, swatting an invisible enemy. Just as quickly, he whirled onto his feet and ran around the oak's trunk three times, then stopped and smacked his paw at the ground. Then he ran down the pathway past the jousting arena and toward the lake. The buzzing and murmurs of conversation disappeared as if in pursuit of the cat.

  "Is he sick?" asked Keelie. It sure looked like kitty insanity to her. Maybe she should've served the cat the spaghetti with the extra garlic. She gazed over at Scott, who had wolfed down his supper, and his face was shiny with sweat, and bright red.

  "Are you going to get the tea?" Scott asked. "My mouth's on fire."

  "Scott, what's the matter with you? Go get the tea." Zeke scowled at him. He squeezed her arm lightly. "I wanted to ease you into your new life, give you time before you started learning about me and about my family and my world. Guess it's not working."

  "What are you talking about? What's this tree got to do with it?"

  "It was felled by lightning the day you arrived. Remember, you saw the smoke? You saved some lives that day, Keelie. But this t
ree is beyond saving, and her magic is trapped within her. As a tree shepherd, I have to guide her spirit onward and transform her magic into healing energy."

  "Right. Sort of like an arborist and a priest?"

  "Sort of. Not everyone can do what I do, and you have my power within you. More than that, Sir Davey and I suspect that you are much more powerful than me."

  "Really?" Superpowers would come in handy, although tree powers were kind of limited. What could she do, frighten squirrels? She was not believing this. Mom had warned her that Dad was all New Age and weird. He should have come to California. He would have fit right in.

  Keelie realized that her mouth was hanging open and closed it. Tears stung her eyes, angry ones.

  "There are good fairies, too, and some came to bid farewell to the oak that sheltered them. Knot interfered. Knowing that cat, he'd probably desecrated their mushroom circle by using it as a litter box." Zeke shook his head. He was enjoying this.

  "Stop it, Zeke. I thought we had a great time at the mall," she said. "I actually thought you were treating me like family, instead of like a tourist. But now you're going off on this wacky fairy tale riff again." She backed away from him, glad that he looked hurt. He deserved it. No wonder Mom left his world. He couldn't tell reality from fantasy. "I'm not some mundane, you know."

  He looked serious. "Keelie, you certainly are not a mundane. Far from it."

  "I'm going to help Cameron with Ariel. Enjoy your spaghetti." She crossed the open area and started down the path toward the aerie.

  Behind her, Zeke called, "Keelie? Wait a minute, I'll come with you. It's dangerous for you to be alone."

  She waved without turning, then broke into a jog, which soon turned into an all-out sprint. By the time she returned to school, she'd be in such great shape that the rest of the cross-country team would be eating her dust. Darkened booths flashed by, their owners in their trailers or upstairs apartments. She slowed as she passed the woods on the other side of the jousting field.

  A costumed child was walking through the trees. Keelie stopped as she realized what she was seeing-what she thought she was seeing. It was Knot, wearing boots, walking on his hind legs, and brandishing a sword in his front paw. And he wasn't alone. A leafy creature, all tangled wood and vines, fought back, wielding a large staff.

  Keelie ran faster than ever, anxious to escape from her overactive imagination.

  There is too much stress and too much grief in my life, Keelie thought as she stroked Ariel's dark red tail feathers, glad that the hawk, for all its elegance and regal bearing, was just a bird and nothing else.

  She could hear her father talking to Cameron in hushed tones. He'd run after her the whole way. She'd never tell him how glad she was to have him there, mad as she was that he treated her like a baby. Fairies? Right.

  Ariel watched her with her one golden eye. Cameron had not been around when Keelie had arrived at the raptor mews. James, one of the other performers, had given Keelie permission to take Ariel out of her cage and had shared his spaghetti dinner with her. Normal spaghetti, thank goodness. Zeke had arrived seconds after she had, but he'd disappeared once he saw her with James.

  Reeling from the uber-strange scene at the woodshop, Keelie wondered if she needed psychiatry. No, if any therapy was going to be handed out, her father and Scott needed to be at the head of the line.

  Of course it might have been drugs. Maybe there was something in the herb tea everyone around here drank. Maybe some of Mrs. Butters' crystal seeds. They sounded dangerous.

  It all seemed like a big hallucination. Faces in trees, magic mud balls, and invisible bugs with buzzing voices. Knot in his little Puss In Boots Musketeer outfit. She'd never be able to tell her friends that one without cracking up. Then again, "cracking up" was not a phrase she should use too much these days.

  How could she explain that cat? Every day Keelie spent at the Faire, her sense of what was real and what wasn't blurred. How did she explain seeing a woman's face in the oak log, if it wasn't a weird allergy-induced vision? How did Keelie logically explain the knowledge about trees that kept bubbling up out of who knew where? The sooner she got out of La-La Land, the better for her. No wonder Mom had taken Keelie from Dad's world all those years ago.

  Ariel inched down the arm guard toward Keelie's face and nestled her head against her cheek. Keelie froze. Hawks were not kittens. Was this a gesture of friendship and trust, or was Ariel about to rip her face off?

  The hawk's head was hot and hard, yet its covering of feathers was incredibly soft. She made no move to attack, and Keelie could feel that part of her that Ariel had switched on grow larger and larger, making her feel good despite the freaky morning.

  Cameron's voice interrupted the moment.

  "Keelie, thank goodness you're here," she said, her tone panicked. "I need your help." Cameron was so frantic that she didn't notice the hawk nestled against Keelie's cheek.

  "Sure. What is it?" Keelie stood slowly, so as not to scare Ariel. Cameron's forehead was creased with worry, and she was dressed in regular clothes, too-a gray sweatshirt, blue jeans, and Nike tennis shoes. She looked totally normal. Keelie needed normal.

  "Moon's been sick all day, and I know that what I'm about to ask you is going to be strange, but I need for you to do it. No questions asked."

  Keelie felt her heart sink. For a second, she thought Cameron would ask her to kill the bird, to end its suffering. But no. Cameron would do that herself, when the time came. She loved Moon, the snowy owl. It had to be something else, and Keelie knew that she'd do anything to help Moon. "Sure."

  "Follow me."

  "Wait a minute." Zeke stepped in front of Cameron. "She can't do this, Cameron. She's not ready."

  "It has to be her." Cameron looked around, then lowered her voice. "I know you've heard, too. Moon is in the meadow, at the tallest aspen, Hrok. The Red Cap can't touch her there."

  The meadow, land of bad feelings. "What do I have to do? Why me?" Keelie tried to catch Cameron's eye, but she was staring at Zeke, as if willing him to approve.

  Zeke seemed stunned, but finally, he nodded and stepped aside. "I'll keep the area safe."

  "Wait a minute. I need an answer. Remember me? Keelie? The person you're talking about?"

  Ariel seemed to sense their mood. The hawk flew from Keelie's arm back to her perch without anyone telling her to do so. Cameron shut the cage door, then turned to Keelie. "I'll tell you on the way to the meadow. We don't have any time."

  The three of them hurried through the odd yellow stillness. Keelie was still wearing the heavy leather gauntlet.

  They passed the children's area. The maypole and pony ring looked strange and empty. Within sight of Mrs. Butters's teahouse, they turned left, through a gate marked "Employees Only," and went up Water Sprite Lane toward the meadow.

  As they went through the gate she heard drumming. The Shire was close by, and the party was starting without her.

  They passed a stand of trees, and the meadow was on their right. It looked wide and friendly in the gloomy daylight, with a thicket of aspens on the far side and other hardwoods here and there. A huge rock was in the center.

  Keelie could see the glint of stone through the far trees. Elianard's camp. Despite its friendly appearance, Keelie knew the place was dangerous. She could feel the sense of panic building as she approached and a strange vibration from the Earth in the center of the meadow.

  From the tree where her cage hung, Moon hooted and fluttered her wings, banging them against the wire walls.

  Cameron clucked soothingly as they approached. Zeke eyed the woods warily, and Keelie fought to just keep one foot in front of the other when what she wanted to do was run to the Shire and hide in a tent.

  The aspen trees seemed old, and she could sense them, stern spirits, like guardians in a sacred place. The largest one's upper branches were scorched, a scaly black that looked like a vivid wound against the green of its leafy neighbors.

  Even from the edge of t
he meadow, Keelie could tell the owl was sick. Normally, Moon sat tall on her perch, eyes alert. Exhausted from her exertions, she sat listless, her white feathers dull and drooping, her enormous eyes closed. She didn't move, even with the noise of their approach.

  Whatever was wrong with her was probably beyond the help of any home remedy. "Don't you think we might need to call a vet?"

  "I am a vet. Modern medicine isn't going to help her," Cameron said firmly. "Early this morning music woke me, and the birds were going crazy, making a racket. When I went out to see who was playing the music that disturbed the birds, I saw immediately that something was wrong with Moon."

  "So some nut played music, then hurt Moon? Do you think she was poisoned?" Keelie knew something deeper was going on, but she didn't want to go near those creepy trees.

  Cameron looked puzzled, then alarmed. "Zeke, I thought you talked to her. Keelie, do you mean you don't understand your role here?"

  "Those fairy tales about Red Caps and farewells to trees?" Even though Keelie didn't admit it, she couldn't deny that she had an uncommon kinship with trees and wood, and that she had seen some pretty strange things.

  "Keelie, I need the healing energy of the aspen tree channeled to Moon. Your father can't heal animals, but I sense that you can. It might not work, but she doesn't have much time." Cameron touched the owl's feathers.

  Zeke looked at her. "I'll be here to help you."

  "What's with you people and trees?" Keelie stared at them.

  The part of her that belonged to her mother said, "Run, Keelie! Don't do it-you're turning into one of them." But the part that Ariel had awakened beckoned her to stretch out and touch the aspen. She did not want to touch that tree, remembering the suffocating sadness brought on by the oak in the workshop.

  There were tears in Cameron's eyes. "Please, Keelie. Moon means the world to me. I know you can help her. Can you imagine not helping Ariel?"

  "It's not that, Cameron. I don't have any kind of power. You're talking about magic, not medicine." And the trees. Keelie shivered. Something was underneath. Something bad. What did that mean?