Words from the Compendium floated behind her eyes. Her breath came in harsh gasps as she tried to remember what they meant. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they’d come to her now. She started to say the words aloud, then paused. What if it was a get-your-socks-clean charm? Or one to keep mice out of your knitting? She recognized the elven word for “red,” but that meant nothing. It could be a charm to make tree leaves brighter in the autumn.
Hot pain shredded across her left thigh and she leaped in reaction, startling a grunt out of her attacker. Furious and panicked, Keelie yelled the words of the charm. A wave of heat pushed her forward, propelling her up into the air and smacking her sideways into the stone wall. Her right shoulder went numb, and her belly curled up in fear.
She fell to the floor, shaking and in pain. When she could breathe normally again, she realized that the fear she felt was the Dread-she must be close to the part of the forest where the elves lived, their protective spell somehow penetrating the soil beneath them and carrying down into Under-the-Hill. This place was scary enough without adding the Dread.
Since she no longer had her rose quartz, Keelie summoned Earth magic and wrapped its protection around her. The Dread’s grip diminished. The rock walls still thumped to the beat of the drum, but she didn’t sense any living creature nearby. She reached out with her tree sense.
Hrok? Are you there?
Immediately, Hrok’s comforting presence flooded her mind. I’m here.
Goblins. Lots of them. Need to warn Dad. She sat up, rubbing her shoulder, then paused. She could see, dimly; her connection to Hrok must be allowing her to see in the darkness.
Milady, you shouldn’t be afraid of the goblins. They are our friends.
Keelie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Knot slid in between her and the wall. His soft warmth comforted her.
A movement to her left caught her eye, and she froze. It was the goblin who’d chased her, passed out on the floor. He looked a little scorched, having been on the receiving end of whatever that charm had been. He moved again.
“Meow follow me.” Knot head-butted her, encouraging her to keep moving.
A chirp sounded from above her and she looked up to see a pair of inquisitive eyes looking down at her.
“Cricket!”
The little goblin jumped down and poked her sore arm. She batted his sharp-pointed fingers away. “Stop. It hurts.”
Cricket chirped again, then stopped and looked behind her, his expression somber. He’d spotted the big goblin. Did he realize that he was one, too? He dropped to the ground and went to explore his unconscious relative, then he turned and looked at her arm, his eyes troubled.
Keelie glanced down and gasped, feeling queasy. Her arm had two gouges on it, and her sleeve was stained with blood. She’d thought her arm just ached from hitting the wall.
“Come on, Cricket. Let’s go.”
She crawled around the goblin’s body and followed Knot up the tunnel. She flexed her fingers. They still seemed to work, which was good. They finally reached the dirt staircase and she eased up it, bit by shaky bit. There was a long moment when Keelie thought she would be climbing forever, but then she smelled the green of the grass near the obelisk rock.
She was already out in the open before she realized that her journey was over. It was dark outside now, but the sound of the crickets and the faint strains of a fiddle from the players’ campground finally penetrated her foggy mind.
Outside. Keelie took a deep breath and fell over, lying on the grass and watching the stars above. Knot plopped down beside her, and his purring presence filled her with relief and comfort. Cricket crunched on some rocks near her feet.
“Come on, guys, let’s get going. I don’t want the goblins to catch my scent.”
As they came to the bridge, a warm wave surrounded Keelie. It was not just Hrok, but the other trees in the meadow. Keelie could hear them all, but one in particular caught her attention-a longleaf pine who seemed to be speaking to someone else. Keelie realized that it was talking to her father.
She interrupted, using the pine’s connection to call out to Dad.
Danger, Dad. I need you. She sent mental images of what she’d seen Under-the-Hill.
Also, Dad, Hrok told me that the goblins are friends to the trees. I don’t know why he would think that; he knows what goblin blood can do to a tree. If the others believe this too, we have a big problem. Maybe they’re mixed up because the goblins are coming from Under-the-Hill like the bhata.
Where are you now, Keelie?
On the lane, headed toward the bridge.
A mental impression of a hug came from her father, and she sensed his worry, as well as a whiff of cinnamon.
She hurried on toward the bridge, halting when figures appeared out of the darkness on the other side of the stream. Keelie stopped, ready to run into the woods. She wondered if the goblins had come after her from another entrance to Under-the-Hill.
Moonlight filtered down through the branches and she saw that one of the advancing figures was tall, and the other came to just above his waist.
“Keelie?”
The relief that flooded her at the sound of her father’s voice made Keelie realize just how scared she’d been. She broke into a run and slammed into his chest, clutching his soft shirt and inhaling his scent. Sir Davey stood quietly next to her.
Dad’s big hand cradled her head and he murmured “There, there” while she sobbed, her tension eased by her father’s comforting presence.
After a moment she lifted her head. “There were so many of them, Dad.”
His worried eyes looked into hers and he grasped her face in his hands. “You are not to go down there again, do you understand? We’ll put guards at the entrance.”
Sir Davey nodded. “I’ll alert Finch. She’s said something about a magical shield. She and Vangar are working on combining their magic.”
Sharp prickles climbed Keelie’s leg and she reached down to pull Cricket from her jeans. Dad recoiled slightly at the sight of the little goblin, but he seemed to force himself to relax.
“Let’s go to my RV,” Davey said.
They walked back down the East Road toward the performer’s campground and Davey’s deluxe RV. Dad motioned to Keelie to be silent, and they said nothing as they passed the lights glimmering from tents and voices raised in song, oblivious to the danger just a few yards away.
In the RV, Davey turned on lights as Dad latched the door, then turned to Keelie.
Go away. Leave me alone, the goblin tree shouted in Keelie’s mind.
She’d forgotten that Sir Davey had taken it home with him. In the clay pot, huge chunks of amethyst surrounded the tree’s trunk. Sir Davey was using Earth magic to neutralize the sapling’s negativity. But it pushed its irate face out of its trunk and stuck its green tongue out.
Dad scowled at the tree. He turned back to Keelie. “On second thought, I want you to go back to Janice’s. You and Raven are to stay together at all times.”
Keelie frowned. “No way I’m walking all the way to Janice’s right now. Can’t I rest a minute? The goblins were really scary, and I hurt one of them, so they might think this fight is personal.”
Puny elves versus goblins. My vote is on the goblins. The tree sneered at them.
“I’m going to confer with the elves,” Dad said. “This will definitely propel them to make a decision.”
Davey looked up at Dad, his grim face shadowed by the lamplight. “What do you mean, ‘confer’? Niriel will stir up the elves with this information. That’s one elf I don’t trust.”
Dad shook his head. “The elves must know about the goblins. We can’t keep this a secret. The goblin army is indeed here, and Keelie’s found the entrance to their lair.”
Davey straightened. “I will call my brothers. The dwarves must know as well.”
“So do we tell the dragons too? Finch and Vangar?” Keelie asked. Ermentrude had kicked goblin butt up in the Northwoods.
&nb
sp; “I’ll tell them,” Dad said. “You stay out of sight at Janice’s. There are those who will say that you’ve known where the goblins were all this time, and only chose now to reveal them to get yourself out of trouble.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Keelie said. “But what about the faire folk? The shopkeepers? Can we tell them? They’ll fight too.” Keelie imagined a scene out of an old monster movie, with angry peasants carrying torches and pitchforks as they stormed the castle.
“No humans.” Dad’s voice was firm-his “don’t argue” tone.
Outraged, Keelie was about to launch into argument anyway when she heard the trees crying out a warning. “What’s happening?”
Davey stuck his head out the RV door. “I smell wood smoke-it’s more than just camp fires.”
Dad lifted his head, listening. “Fire, on the other side of the hill. Davey, warn the others.”
The goblin tree began to chant. His tree voice creaked with malice. Burn. Burn. Burn.
eleven
Davey threw himself out of the RV and disappeared into the campground, his cries of “Fire!” cutting through the merriment.
Dad leaped out of the RV after him and ran to a large, military-style lodge-tent next to them, calling out, “Fire!” He ran on to the next tent as Tarl and his friends poured out of the lodge, tankards in hand, sniffing the air.
Dad ran back to the RV. “To Janice’s, Keelie,” he yelled, then raced up the road as Tarl’s men spread the alarm. In seconds, the spaces between the tents were full of faire workers who’d dropped their meals, guitars, and books to help.
Davey returned and grabbed a fire extinguisher from under a cabinet, which he handed to Keelie. “Take this to Janice. Not sure if she has one, and I have an extra.”
Keelie stared at the fire extinguisher. If the fire wasn’t controlled early, it would turn into a monster like the one that had engulfed Heartwood. No fire extinguisher could have stopped that one.
“I don’t want to run away,” Keelie said. “I’m part of this faire and I want to help.”
“You’re not running away,” Davey said earnestly. “You have to warn Janice so that she can save her shop and spread the alarm to those living on the grounds.”
Keelie grabbed the heavy red extinguisher and ran up the road, pushing past the blue-jean-clad faire folk who jostled past her, carrying shovels, rakes, buckets, and even more fire extinguishers as they rushed toward the blaze, visible now as an orange glow on the horizon near the jousting arena. Thomas the Glass Blower huffed his way down the path, carrying a hoe, Sam the Potter beside him.
“I wonder if this was Vangar the firebug’s doing,” Sam said.
“Don’t know, but Finch will defend him if it is,” Thomas answered as they glared at Keelie.
She was the only one headed away from danger as she turned toward Green Lady Herbs, wishing she had the Compendium.
“Hurry, Keelie!” a red-faced Raven shouted, waving Keelie to the herb shop.
Janice was hosing water onto the roof and around the building. “Keelie, thank goodness you’re here. I need your help. Go inside and cover my herbs and tinctures with cloth.”
Inside the shop, the sweet, woodsy scent was now mixed with the smell of burnt wood. Keelie blinked back tears-the faire was slowly dying. Shimmerlight, Lavender Lollipop, and Lily Limerton showed up and helped cover the herbs. Then Janice ran toward the jousting arena, the girls behind her.
The stands were fully engulfed, the flames shooting high into the trees. The trees shrieked in Keelie’s head, howling in terror as the flames licked at their trunks and branches.
Keelie joined a bucket brigade that scooped water from the horses’ spring-fed trough and passed buckets to be flung at the fire. It was like spitting into a volcano, but it was something. Endless buckets passed her on their way to the roaring inferno, and while her body worked mechanically, her mind was trying to soothe the forest.
She sensed her father’s voice as he worked on the other side of the fire, and then she felt her uncle and her grandmother joining in from their far forests. The tree shepherds were working together. Despite her fear and exhaustion, Keelie’s pride lightened her heart.
Around her were signs of a similar spirit as the faire workers pitched in to help each other. The faire folk were family, maybe not by blood, but by choice and circumstance.
It wasn’t until after midnight that the last remnants of the fire were under control. The jousting arena had been turned to ashes. The Silver Bough Company would have to perform its demonstrations in the parking lot until the embers cooled.
Keelie trudged back to Green Lady Herbs with Janice and Raven, thinking this was getting really old.
Dad joined them just as they neared the shop. Janice stopped walking a moment, overcome with emotion at the sight of her little cottage unharmed.
Dad was dirty and his hair was loose, his ear tips exposed. “Thank you for letting Keelie stay with you, but she’ll sleep at Sir Davey’s tonight.”
“She helped me save my shop. I couldn’t have done it without her,” Janice said.
“Can’t she stay with us?” Raven asked.
Dad shook his head. Keelie sensed that something was off about him. For one thing, he never showed his ear tips around humans, even Janice and Raven who knew about the elves.
“Keelie, thank you for all of your help,” Janice said. Her cap was askew, and her face ashen and smudged with dirt.
Keelie wiped her hands over the forehead. Dirt and smoke came off in her hands. “I think I need a shower.”
“Let’s head to the RV.” Dad rubbed his eyes with the palm of his sooty hands.
“Be careful, especially around Vangar.” Janice hugged Keelie.
“We’ll be fine,” Keelie said.
Walking back to the performer’s campground, exhausted and desperately wanting to feel hot water sluicing down her body, Keelie yearned for Sir Davey’s RV and its expansive luxury spa bathroom.
“Keelie, I hope you didn’t say anything to Janice about the goblins?” Dad asked.
“No, we didn’t have time to talk.” Keelie frowned. “Why don’t you want her to know about the goblins? She knows you’re an elf. “
“Things have changed. The battle in the Northwoods has convinced the elves that the less we interact with humans, the better. For the Ren Faires there’ll be little change, but even so, the less humans know, the better.”
Keelie stopped. “It’s wrong, Dad. I think we should be more open, not less. Why can’t humans know about elves, anyway?”
Dad shook his head. He seemed so standoffish right now.
“We’ll argue about this later. Once I drop you off at Sir Davey’s, I must meet with the elves.”
“Again? It’s the middle of the night.” Keelie dropped her sarcastic tone and placed a hand on his sooty shoulder. “Dad, you need to rest too. You’re getting a little loopy.”
Dad hugged her. “Later.” They had reached the edge of the campground, and he left her standing among the parked cars. Thomas the Glass Blower waved to Dad as he walked toward the woodland path leading to the elven camp.
Feeling abandoned, Keelie went inside the RV for her much-needed shower. She’d get some sleep and clear her head. Two fires in two nights was not a coincidence. Someone in the faire was an arsonist, and he or she had to be stopped.
Four hours later, Keelie threw her pillow at the goblin tree in the corner of the RV’s living area. “Shut up.”
She’d gotten two hours of sleep before the tree had started singing pub songs about wenches. Loudly.
Oh, the pretty lass was quite the wench.
But she never washed, she had a stench.
It added more verses as it went along, and it was clearly no Grammy hopeful.
Keelie sat up. “We should have known not to put that tree where it could hear Tarl and the mud men.”
Knot meowed angrily, walked over to the little angry tree, and unsheathed his claws. “Meow firewood.”
“Threaten me all you want, stinky cat, but you don’t scare me,” the goblin tree shouted out loud. It pushed its face though its bark and stuck its green tongue out at Knot.
Keelie lowered herself back onto the sofa, hoping to go back to sleep.
“I saw you naked when you showered,” the tree continued. “I sent the image to all the trees around the mountain.”
Keelie blushed with embarrassment. “Silly tree. There’s a lot of serious stuff happening here. Besides, I don’t care. What do trees care about naked people?” But it gave her pause that the tree had spoken aloud. It was growing in power.
Keelie couldn’t stay in the RV another moment with the obnoxious thing. If she’d had the Compendium, she would’ve used a silence spell on it and then, just in case, sent out a forget-it spell to the trees so they wouldn’t remember the image of her naked.
A wave of regret washed over her as she remembered the Compendium. Cricket climbed on top of her head, as if sensing her sadness.
Keelie’s tree sense kicked in. Hrok?
Lady Keliel, your father is still in the elven village, and he will be so for many hours. He says you need to rest.
Thank you, Hrok. She paused. Hrok, can you sense the goblins? Are they near the entrance to Under-the-Hill?
No, milady. They have moved, but we do not know where. We sense they are near.
Yesterday, you told me that the goblins are your friends. I find it hard to believe that a tree could say that.
Oh yes. We like them very much.
Later, Hrok.
Keelie abruptly ended the conversation. She’d have to be careful talking to trees about goblins if they thought the goblins were their friends. Something was badly wrong with them, and with Dad too. She thought about her actions the past two days, but couldn’t think of anything strange about herself other than bone weariness and a growing hatred for the smell of woodsmoke. Whatever was going on, it was affecting more than tree shepherds.
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