The Secret of the Dread Forest: The Faire Folk Trilogy

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The Secret of the Dread Forest: The Faire Folk Trilogy Page 20

by Gillian Summers


  A green-cowled elf brought the Lore Book and placed it in the center of the slab. Next to it he put a silver knife. Not a good sign.

  “This isn’t civilized. He deserves a fair trial, not a bunch of antique rituals. The trees can be witnesses.” Keelie gathered every bit of knowledge she’d gleaned from her lawyer mom. “What real wrong can be blamed directly on Jake? That he returned? He’d been warned against it, but is trespassing punishable by death? Are you going to execute every hiker who wanders up here?”

  The elves murmured, and Lord Niriel frowned and walked forward swiftly, the Lore Book in his hands.

  The crowd parted and a stretcher was brought to the circle. Lord Elianard lay in it, pale and trembling, his once-beautiful golden hair lank and plastered with sweat against his head. He looked as if he was dying. Elia stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, the other holding a cloth to her tear-stained face.

  Lord Niriel pointed to his former flunky. “Behold another who allowed the darkness to touch him. Lord Elianard is on his way to becoming a vampire, and it is Dariel’s doing that has brought him to this end.”

  Keelie opened her mouth to protest, but Jake’s face fell and his shoulders drooped when he saw Elianard’s condition.

  The gathered elves were silent as Niriel read aloud from the elven law. “Vampires are parasites not to be tolerated. They bring attention to the Otherworld and endanger all by their presence in the human world.”

  Three elven guards came forth—Niriel’s lackeys—and each in turn presented their evidence against Keelie: the amulet she still wore around her neck; that she was subject to the Dread, and therefore human; and that she be-friended a vampire and kept his existence a secret.

  “I should be allowed to present witnesses for the defense,” Keelie argued.

  Her grandmother looked at Etilafael, and the elven matriarch nodded.

  “I call forth Knot.”

  Niriel laughed. “A cat?”

  Shouts erupted as Knot strode out in his Puss n’ Boots garb, sword at his furry side. Keelie stared. This was right out of her dream. She could almost smell the fish sticks. She knew that Knot was more than a cat, but this was a lot more than she’d envisioned.

  He raised a paw for silence.

  First, he bowed toward the Council, then turned to bow to each of the aunties, the queen oaks.

  “Meow am not a public speaker, but meow must come before yeow to defend my Dariel Fae Friend. Meow tell yeow that yeow have falsely accused yeow boy. Dariel of the Tree Shepherds is meow friend. A friend to all fae, a blood bond that meow takes not lightly. Meow is guardian to his kin, meow is bonded to Keliel.” He bowed to Keelie, then winked one big eye.

  Eloquently, in his kitty accent, he described what happened in the Wildewood, and that the unicorn Einhorn himself gave Keelie the amulet that Elianard had used against him.

  Niriel jumped up from the seat he’d taken at the side of the standing crowd. “It is as I said. Nothing has changed. Elianard used the amulet against the Wildewood unicorn, and now Keliel has the cursed thing and uses it in our own forest. Is the Dread not broken? Surely she has done this with the help of her vampire kin.”

  Knot hissed at Niriel, fangs exposed. “Yeow are the villain in this play.”

  “The cat is a fairy,” Niriel said quickly. “Everyone knows the fae are fickle and not to be trusted.”

  Some of the elves looked doubtful. They knew Knot, and certainly had never seen him take this shape.

  “Would the testimony of a tree help?” Keelie asked. The trees around them murmured.

  “Since Zekeliel and Keliel are the only ones who can hear tree speak, trees may not testify in this matter.” Etilafael looked around. The elves nodded. Grandmother Keliatiel looked bemused. For a long time she had heard tree speak only in dreams, but yesterday her skill had returned.

  “But there’s a tree that can speak plainly for all to hear.” Keelie turned to her father. “Dad, get Alora.” She turned to the Council. “The acorn treeling will testify.”

  Dad wheeled out the pot in which the treeling was planted. Alora seemed very pleased with the attention. Keelie was afraid that they were in for some more of her obnoxious dramatics, but instead she just straightened her leaves.

  “Do you think you can you make them all hear you?” Keelie whispered, bending low. “Jake heard you, but of course he’s a tree shepherd.”

  “Don’t worry, Keelie. I’ve got Wildewood sap in my trunk. I can make myself heard.” Alora waved her branches for attention, then showed her face.

  The crowd roared, excited by a sight that they’d only heard about. Dad and Grandmother looked around, astounded. Everyone could see the tree’s true face.

  “I am the daughter of the Great Oak of the Wildewood,” Alora’s voice rang out. “Sent to renew our bond with our sister forest. I was entrusted to Keliel Heartwood, daughter of Zekeliel Tree Shepherd. I witnessed the end of the battle, and my parent trees watched as well while Keliel defeated the evil elven wizard Elianard and his daughter Elia of the Dark Heart. They had used the amulet to drain the Unicorn Guardian’s energy and weaken the forest. They took his horn.”

  Gasps arose from the crowd. Niriel scowled at the treeling, who continued, unperturbed.

  “Zekeliel Heartwood himself fell ill from the dark magic. As an acorn, I was entrusted to Keliel’s care in gratitude for her service. Now I speak for the Wildewood. Keliel Heartwood is welcome there. She is sister to me. The one you seek is not accused, but I accuse him. Niriel of the Silver Bough.”

  The crowd gasped and Niriel paled, but stood tall. “This is nonsense. Obviously I am no vampire. Will you listen to a talking tree?”

  Keliatiel stood once more. “Our fates are tied to the trees. We are honored that the Princess Alora addresses us.”

  A branch snaked down from above, holding the book that Keelie had surrendered to the aunties before she went underground. Niriel jumped, trying to grab the book.

  A piercing cry from above signaled the return of Ariel, who swooped down, talons extended toward Niriel’s face. He ducked and Keelie grabbed the book.

  Niriel straightened and adjusted his robes as Ariel perched on a branch above them. “See? She herself proves me right. Her dark magic restored the sight of the hawk, and now it is a darkling beast that does her bidding. She used this cursed book and now she wields it once more.”

  Keelie turned to Jake. “Tell them the truth. Tell them what happened with you and Elianard and Niriel.”

  Jake shrugged.

  “You can’t just give up. Think of Elia. Don’t you love her? Do you want to die when her own father is fading, and she will be left alone?”

  Jake’s eyes flitted to Elia, who stood at her father’s side, a faithful daughter even though she knew he’d led her into doing wrong. He slowly met Keelie’s gaze, then gave her a tiny nod and smile, straightened his shoulders, and faced the Council.

  “Now will I speak of that which took place in this forest long ago,” he began. “I killed the unicorn of the Okanogan forest, and used its death to restore the Dread in our forest. For this I was punished, but know that I did not act alone. Lords Elianard and Niriel helped to plan and carry out the act. Together we slew the beast.”

  The elves roared and angry shouts filled the clearing. Etilafael banged her staff against the Caudex once more, and after a while the crowd silenced.

  Lord Niriel was frowning. “How sad that Dariel must accuse the innocent to assuage his own conscience. But surely a life outside of the forest is not worth living? Why fight for more of it?”

  “Well, he didn’t fade did he?” Keelie shouted. “He was just fine in Seattle until his memory came back. He only came here for justice, and because his mother was fading.”

  Keliatiel stared at her.

  “I’m telling the truth, Grandmother.”

  “She is telling the truth,” Elia said. She pulled a wrapped bundle from her gown and unwrapped the unicorn’s horn, its base jagged from wh
ere it was broken from Einhorn’s head. “Lord Niriel urged my father to do this. And to my shame, I helped.”

  Gasps, then silence, met the revelation.

  “That is mine,” Niriel shrieked. He lunged for the horn, but Elia tossed it to Jake. Niriel threw himself on Jake, knocking him to the ground. The two wrestled as the astounded elves rushed forward to stop them. With a shriek, Niriel lifted the horn over his head and drove it into Jake’s heart.

  Jake stilled, his eyes wide in surprise. Then they closed, as his body went limp. Keliatiel cried out and ran to her lost son’s side. She knelt next to him and wept.

  Keelie stared at her dead uncle, her friend. It had all happened so quickly.

  Elia fell to her knees on Jake’s other side, tears rolling down her face. “What have I done?” she cried. “What have I done?”

  A moan arose from the forest around them. Above, Ariel cried out and launched herself into the air. Dad grabbed Keelie’s shoulder. “Keelie, I want you to go back to California. Davey will take you to Laurie.”

  “What are you talking about, Dad?”

  A ripple crossed the clearing, as if the earth had shrugged, and wind tossed the treetops. “Just listen to me. My mother has surrendered the forest. I must take control.”

  Keelie felt the green energy building, like surf, rolling in and receding, growing stronger with each pass. “You don’t think you’re going to survive this, do you? You think it’ll kill you. You’ve tied yourself to the Dread!”

  Dad kissed her, holding her tightly against him. “It’s the only way, Keelie. I love you.” He thrust her away and turned to the trees.

  A green whisper floated through her mind and Keelie knew what to do. She threw the book of magic onto the center of the ancient tree’s rings, then grabbed Alora by the trunk and yanked her from the pot. The pot crashed to the ground, breaking. Alora’s exposed roots wriggled. Keelie lifted the treeling and banged her down over the book, sending her twinkles into a dancing fury. Immediately her roots surrounded the book, pulling it apart as a great cracking was heard. The base of the Caudex split. Alora’s roots entered the crevice and, fed by the magic from Under-the-Hill, the treeling began to grow.

  The earth heaved as she rose, trunk widening, throwing elves and dwarf to the ground. Like a green tentacle, one of Alora’s roots wrapped around Jake’s body, pulling it into the roiling earth beneath the trunk, the unicorn’s twisted horn still protruding from his chest. Keliatiel and Elia tried to pull him free, but Alora was stronger.

  Twenty feet tall now and still growing, the treeling stretched her branches high and the queen oaks bowed before her.

  Dad was laughing as he looked up into Alora’s face, now far above them. Keelie wondered if he’d gone nuts, and then it hit her like a runaway school bus, knocking her to her knees. The renewed Dread was roaring through the forest—brought back by the combined power of the Wildewood’s gift and the fae magic released by the book’s destruction.

  Sir Davey pushed his stone into her hand. “Here you go, lass. I figure you’ll be needing this.”

  Keelie stood up, a little wobbly but able to breath without throwing up. The Dread was back—so the forest was safe, and so was her father and her grandmother.

  But Jake was dead. She sobbed as she realized that she’d never see him again.

  Quit crying, Keelie. That salt water is bad for my roots. Alora lifted one of her roots. See?

  The bhata swarmed up from below her, filling the forest with their chittering and the ticking of their sticks. They carried the wooden sword, which they brought to Keelie.

  Keelie picked it up. “Gee, thanks.” What was she supposed to do with it?

  On the other side of the clearing, Elianard stumbled from his cot and staggered toward his weeping daughter. He fell to his knees beside her. “Elia, I have failed you. I wanted the forest to be whole for you, for your future, but I have doomed us.”

  Keelie remembered Jake’s words, that to not help someone was to curse them. She looked at the sword and felt the amulet’s cold kiss against her skin. Why had Einhorn given it to her? What use would it serve now?

  She pulled the cord over her head and walked to Elianard, who looked up at her, pale and shaking, his face creased with pain and sorrow.

  “I am sorry, Keliel Heartwood. I have wronged you and your father, and all the forest guardians. I am so sorry. I deserve my fate.” He glanced at his daughter and his pain lifted momentarily, showing tenderness. “Will you be a friend to Elia?”

  Forgiveness. It was tougher than retribution. Keelie held out the cord with the thorn-wrapped silver acorn dangling heavily at its end. “I give this to you, from Jake. From my Uncle Dariel the Tree Shepherd.”

  Elianard stared, transfixed, at the amulet that had been his undoing. Keelie watched him put the cord over his head. He seemed to think this was part of his punishment.

  Another green whisper and Keelie looked over to Dad, who winked at her and motioned to what she still held. She offered the wooden sword, hilt first, to Elianard as well. “This seems to be for you.”

  Puzzled, he took the hilt, then jerked back as he was hit with a jolt of green magic. The wooden blade sizzled and sparked, and from its tip smoke curled as the process reversed itself and it once more became steel. The green magic that had made it wood was seeping into Elianard’s arms.

  Elia stumbled to her feet as Elianard stood, healed. He threw his arms around his daughter and held her tightly.

  How about that, Keelie thought. Elia had been right— she was the one to heal Elianard.

  Above them Ariel cried out a warning, and Keelie saw that Niriel had turned to run.

  Zeke stood in Niriel’s path. “I am the master of the forest. Your fate is to wander the earth, forgetting your heritage. Remember us not. And return on pain of death.” Dad raised his arms and the trees swayed. The Council assembled beside him, Grandmother included, although she looked heartsick. Together they raised the magic that would send Niriel away, as Jake had been sent away a hundred years before.

  Niriel stood tall, but Sean cried out and begged them to stop.

  “Father, I love you.” His words were lost as a wind whirled into the circle. Niriel’s robes lifted, the edges trailing away into dark fog. The change had begun.

  Niriel’s eyes were focused on his son, as if he would try to remember this one thing forever. Keelie’s chest grew tight. She couldn’t bear to watch. Niriel’s love for his son was in his eyes, even as he surely felt the magic tear his memories away. Was this how Mom looked just before the plane crashed? Had she tried to take the memory of Keelie with her to the other side?

  Niriel’s robes were almost all fog, and his fingers had lengthened strangely, the tips fading, but the rest of him was here. Keelie hadn’t been able to stop the plane, but maybe it was not too late to stop Niriel’s destruction.

  “Stop!” She put all of her power into her shout. The trees listened, the earth shivered, and the fae stood still. “Stop the spell.” Keelie lowered her voice to address the Council. “If Elianard can be forgiven and healed, then why not Niriel? The elves must change. Vengeance is not the answer, nor is a punishment that harms the innocent.” She pointed toward Sean’s grief-ravaged face.

  The Council members looked at each other, then at Grandmother, who had hidden her face in her hands. They nodded at Zeke, who dropped his arms. The wind died down. The spell was broken.

  Green shot through Keelie as the trees cried out to her, and she saw Grandmother raise her hands, amazed, reaching up toward the high canopy above them. The trees were talking to her once more.

  Keelie opened her mind and heard them. Despite Jake’s death, there would be much rejoicing tonight, for the forest was restored.

  Zeke scratched the earth at the edge of the great clearing, and Niriel was free. Sean, who had stood outside the circle, shoulders bowed and looking sick and very alone, ran into his father’s arms. Keelie felt Dad’s hands on her shoulders and turned to hug him tightly.
“It was Mom,” she said. “I thought that maybe Mom felt like Niriel, just before the end.”

  Dad kissed her hair and said nothing, but she felt a tear hit her neck and tightened her arms around his waist. Knot rubbed against Keelie’s leg, kitty-sized once more, and she heard him speak again. “Alora wants yeow.”

  She stared down at the cat. Maybe hearing him talk was not such a good thing. She let go of Dad. “I’ll be right back.”

  He nodded, and as she returned to the now huge treeling, her father and Sir Davey went over to Sean.

  “So what do I call you if you aren’t the bratty treeling any more?”

  “What are you talking about, Keelie? Of course I’m still the treeling. I just need bigger twinkles. And more of them. Now.”

  The aunties laughed in her head. She is the Queen Tree of the Dread Forest, Keelie. Our own Great Tree.

  Keelie shrugged. She wasn’t up to laughing right now. Poor Jake. He’d come home to die. She wondered if she should hug Grandmother. A scary thought.

  “What’s the matter, Keelie? Didn’t everything turn out the way you wanted? You are safe, and the Dread is back. I’m in charge, as the Wildewood and the Dread Forest meant it to be. Your father is the Lord of the Forest. What more can you want?” Alora seemed perplexed.

  “My uncle died. I know that for trees it’s different.”

  “We’ll have a Lorem for him.”

  “Not the same. I’ll miss him. Elia will probably miss him more. She loved him. And he loved her.” Keelie wiped fresh tears from her eyes.

  “Stop it with that salt water thing. I warned you. Very well, this will stop it.”

  A grinding sound filled the clearing, and all laughter stopped as Alora’s roots gave way, exposing a dark corridor under the now-massive tree. “Now you can go Under-the-Hill whenever you want.”

  “Thanks.” Keelie tried to sound enthusiastic.

  A flutter of movement near the dark opening revealed a swarm of feithid daoine. Then the darkness vanished in a blinding glow of white and the clatter of hooves on stone.

 

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