“You asked about what is happening here,” Terciel began.
Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago, Keelie thought.
“The Northwoods elves settled here long before the humans came to this land,” Terciel began. “The Shining Ones came to these forests long before we did, as did other creatures of the Other Realm.”
Keelie wondered what other creatures he referred to. Talking cats? She’d never heard the term “Other Realm,” either, although she was pretty sure it meant places like Under-the-Hill.
Terciel nodded to Sean. “Your grandfather fought the dragon Avenir in these very hills and defeated him, to our eternal gratitude.”
“Dragons?” The little hairs on the back of Keelie’s neck prickled to attention.
Sean poked her with his elbow. She’d definitely ask him later.
As Terciel spoke, Saliel served them a salad and giant grilled strips of what looked like steaks. Keelie’s mouth watered.
“Queen Vania keeps her people apart from us. In order to speak with her, you must ascend to the High Court.”
The High Court always sounded like something from a fairy tale. “So she doesn’t come down here?” Keelie asked.
“She has not been seen here in centuries,” Lord Terciel said.
“That’s a long time not to say hi to the neighbors.” Keelie took a tentative bite of the grilled thing. It tasted a little like steak … from a slug, maybe. She swallowed fast without chewing and drank from the goblet before her, then almost spat. Wine. Holy cow. Dad would freak out. She tried to catch Sean’s eye but he was wolfing down his dinner as if it was super tasty. Another reminder that she was not an elf, if slug steak appealed to elf taste buds.
Maybe later she could go into town and grab a hot dog.
Terciel was eyeing her expectantly. Right, the questions. “What keeps the elves and fae apart?”
“The High Court engages in frivolous pursuits, while the elves work hard to maintain the forests. Yet the fae have much power. They influence the dwarves, and though they do not see eye-to-eye with the dark fae, they have power there as well.”
“How is it that the elves here can even see the fae?” Keelie asked. “The fae in the Dread Forest are invisible to the elves.”
“Some of us can sense them. And the High Court has always been visible to us. Their vanity would not let it be otherwise.” Terciel sighed. “That does not mean that we agree with the Shining Ones. Over the years Queen Vania has ceased to listen to us, and now, despite the current predicament, she will not see us.”
“And she won’t come here, so I have to go there?”
“No, we have to,” Sean interjected. “Your father charged me with caring for your safety.”
“What do we say to the queen? I’ve never met a queen before.” Elia seemed excited at the possibility.
“You’ve met Alora,” Keelie reminded her.
“She’s a tree,” Elia said dismissively.
Keelie wanted to kick her. Alora was much more than just a tree—she was a gift from the Wildewood Forest, an acorn who’d ultimately saved the Dread Forest and become its Queen Tree, as Elia well knew.
Keelie wondered where, exactly, the high fae lived. Not Under-the-Hill, where the dark fae lived in the Dread Forest. The Shining Ones loved light. Maybe at the top of one of the mountains? She didn’t do well with heights. Elia would probably thrive there.
“Lady Elia will not go to the High Court,” Terciel said, glaring at his guests. “Her child must be protected, and the fae do not get along with elves, as I have mentioned.”
Elia looked stricken. She opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking.
Terciel stopped to turn his scary gaze on Saliel, who had snorted. “Lady Keliel is uniquely qualified to go, since her, er, mixed blood may be acceptable to the fae. Lord Sean, of course, is her protector and must attend her.”
“So they’ll love me because I’m a mutt?” Keelie took a tentative taste of the salad. She’d kill for a tofu hot dog.
“Mutt.” Terciel seemed to consider the word. “Yes, I believe that is correct. The dwarves speak well of you.”
There were dwarves here, of course. They lived under mountains and forests. Keelie’s heart warmed as she thought of Sir Davey and Barrow. Maybe the ones who lived here knew them.
“Is there anything I need to know before we go?”
Lord Terciel looked at her silently for a long moment. “You are our hope, Keliel. Go, speak to the queen, and ask her to agree to a meeting of all who live in the Northwoods. A summit, if you will. Do not linger at the High Court. It is seductive, and time does not flow there as it does here.”
“What dangers might we encounter?” Sean asked.
Terciel and Miszrial glanced at each other quickly.
Not a good sign.
Sean frowned. “We will be prepared to do battle, if need be, to return here.”
Terciel nodded. “It would be wise. Do not draw weapons while you are there, unless you are directly threatened. At midnight tomorrow night, you will travel through the portal. Rest now.”
Keelie met Sean’s troubled gaze. She thought of what the trees had told her. The fae were all around, it seemed. Did that mean the bhata, or had Queen Vania sent spies to watch them? Or maybe the bhata themselves were her spies. This forest was very different from the Dread Forest, which, despite its scary name, only inspired dread in the humans who neared it. She’d call Dad as soon as she got to her room. This sounded way more dangerous than he’d described.
By the time Keelie returned to the lodge she was exhausted. She punched her father’s number into the phone again, but no luck.
“I don’t get it,” she told Sean. “It’s not like it relies on cell towers. This works with forests. Why won’t the trees connect my call?”
“Ask the trees.” Sean yawned. “I’m going to bed, Keelie. I’ve got to tell you, I’m worried about what Lord Terciel said. I’m glad I brought my armor and sword.”
“Maybe a gun and hand grenades would have been a better choice,” she muttered. “Go on to bed. I’ll be right behind you. I’m going to try one more time.”
“Good night then. Don’t go outside alone.” Sean kissed the top of her head and went upstairs.
The lower rooms of the lodge were spartan, and Keelie was ready to go to bed, too, if only to give her backside a break from all the stone seats. Apparently the Northwoods elves didn’t believe in cushions. She stood close to a window and tried her father’s number again. Nothing. With a sigh, she headed up the stairs. Elia had hurried ahead of them and gone to bed without saying good night.
Keelie’s room was just as she left it, except that the logs in the fireplace were fresh. Someone scratched at the door. She hurried to open it, hoping it was Sean, but Knot crept in. The hall was deserted.
She looked at the door. The scratching had come from shoulder height. Her shoulder, not the little kitty’s. She shrugged. This close to the fae court, there was no telling what the cat would do.
“Where were you while we went to dinner?”
Knot jumped onto the bed, ignoring her.
“You didn’t miss much. Slug steak. Turns out it was some giant grilled mushroom, but it sure tasted like slug.”
Knot yawned, showing much kitty fang.
“Yeah, me too.” Keelie said. “You aren’t going to invite all your fairy friends in here to party, are you?”
Knot blinked at her.
“Just a warning. I need sleep.” Keelie undressed and slipped into bed, relieved that the sheets were clean and fragrant with lavender. She’d half expected burlap. She closed her eyes, wondering what the next day would bring. The High Court sounded kind of exciting, actually. If she didn’t reach Dad tomorrow, she’d have to go without briefing him on Peascod and the Green
Man. She fell asleep thinking of the fairies and the trees, and how the elves fit into the mix.
Later, the sound of weeping awoke her. She was pretty sure it was Elia, and as she tried to drift off to sleep again, she felt a pang of sympathy for the elf girl who’d expected so much and received so little.
She couldn’t sleep. She got up and opened the door of her bedroom. A reddish light shone into the window at the end of the hall, and she crept toward it, wondering what it could be. In a human town, she wouldn’t think anything of it, chalking it up to an exterior light. Nothing like that existed here.
She reached the window and looked out at the thickly wooded view. The trees called greetings, which she answered until she saw the figure that watched her from the ground below. It seemed like a man, but had huge antlers like a deer. Like the hunter she’d seen in the vision. Like the deer that had raced alongside the wagon.
She ran back to her room and closed the door tightly, wishing she could climb into a friend’s bed for comfort, but Elia and Sean were not candidates for that job, for very different reasons.
Knot was standing in the middle of her bed, back arched and fur on end. Keelie leaped under the covers and yanked Knot in with her.
“Dad?” Keelie came quickly awake. She wasn’t in her cozy bed in her father’s timber-and-stone house. She was in the Northwoods elven village of Grey Mantle, and the sound she’d heard was not her father. She lay very still, listening. There. Claws clicking on stone, then breathing close by.
She turned her head slowly, eyes still closed, dreading the monster she’d see. Did Herne have claws? Wouldn’t a deer have hooves? She hadn’t thought to look.
She opened her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. A coyote stood next to her bed, staring at her, clearly visible in the undulating bands of light from the aurora borealis.
When their eyes met, his mouth fell open, black doggie lips lifting in a pleased grin that showed very sharp white teeth.
“Coyote?” she whispered. “Are you really here?”
“You’re not dreaming me.” His goofy grin widened and his tongue lolled out of the left side of his jaw, like a damp carpet unfurled over a jagged balcony. “You got anything to eat?”
“Not for a coyote used to eating out of Wolfgang Puck’s dumpster in Los Angeles.”
The fairy rolled his eyes. “I’m going back to town. At least they have hot dogs there. Probably tofu ones, but I know where they are.”
“It is you.” Keelie sat up. “How did you get here?” She’d met Coyote in her Los Angeles neighborhood recently, and then learned that the fairy had lived there when she was a little girl, too.
He cocked his head. “You have no idea what awaits you. I’ve been summoned to offer my help.”
“Summoned? Who summoned you, and what awaits other than more snotty elves and that forest god? You’re the best thing that’s happened here so far.”
Coyote stared at her for a moment. “You may not be so thrilled if the elves discover me here. I’ll try to keep out of sight.”
Knot, who’d been asleep on the pillow next to hers, woke up and did a kitty double take when he saw Coyote. The two looked at each other carefully; then Knot nodded, walked to the edge of the bed, and touched noses with Coyote.
For Knot, that was the equivalent of a wild lovefest. Keelie tried not to be jealous. Who wanted a shape-changing fairy cat to love her?
“Everyone get to bed. We’ve got a huge day ahead of us.” Keelie crawled back under the covers. Knot settled at her feet, and Coyote turned around four times on the carpet next to her before sinking into a tight Coyote curl. Keelie fell asleep, relieved that she had one more ally. Something was up in this forest, and so far her friends here were few.
When she woke up again, it was still dark but she knew it was morning. The growling she heard was her stomach, not Coyote, who was still asleep, looking innocent.
She, Sean, and Elia were expected for breakfast downstairs, but even though she was starving, Keelie was dreading it. Facing Elia would be the first challenge. The elf girl had sounded heartbroken last night, but Keelie could just guess how much Elia would resent a show of sympathy. Not to mention how hard it would be to cough up any, since Elia had been Princess Obnoxious ever since they arrived.
Keelie dressed quickly in corduroy jeans and a sweater. Coyote stretched and yawned, then thumped his tail on the floor.
“Think we can find food now?”
“With any kind of luck,” Keelie answered. She brushed her short hair, then swatted the cat-shaped lump under the rich, leaf-embroidered quilt.
“Up and at ’em, kitty. You’ll probably see some other real live fairies today.” At least, she hoped so. They were here to do a job, and hanging out with Elia’s chilly relatives wasn’t getting it done.
The lump humped up, then stretched almost flat, then Knot’s head appeared outside of the covers, fur sticking up.
Keelie laughed. “Bed head!” She held out the brush. “Come here and I’ll groom you.”
Knot glared at her, then licked his paw and ran it over his head twice.
Keelie shrugged. “I could have done it better, and without spit. See if I ever offer again.” She opened the bedroom door and looked around the hallway. Empty. “I guess breakfast is downstairs.” She crossed and knocked at Sean’s door, glancing toward Elia’s room. Her door was open. Keelie slipped over to it and pushed the door open slowly. Behind her, Coyote slipped down the stairs.
“Hey, come back,” she hissed.
Coyote didn’t answer. She turned back to Elia’s room, which seemed to be empty.
“Elia? You here?” Elia’s bed was unmade and a long pink gown lay in a puddle of silk on the floor. Figured. Elf girl probably got tired of waiting for the servants to serve her breakfast in bed. Was that what she’d expected? She’d been independent back home and at the Ren Faires they’d worked together. Maybe “together” was too strong a word for merely occupying the same two acres of medieval-style fun; Elia would hang with the other beautiful elf girls, and Keelie would work her butt off.
Strong hands cupped her shoulders, and she squeaked in surprise.
“Sorry.” Sean gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. His grin said that he wasn’t sorry at all. “Did you manage to stay warm last night?”
“Barely. Of course, I had Knot with me.” She turned, then stopped, chest to chest with Sean.
He smiled down at her, then glanced at the oversized pumpkin fluffball, now headed toward the stairs. “Looks like he knows where the food is.”
“Always. Shall we follow him?”
He sighed. “Because you have a job to do, I know.”
Keelie laced her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. “Because we have a job to do.” She dropped her arms.
“Any luck getting in contact with your dad?” Sean asked.
“No. It’s the weirdest thing. I’m going to ask Terciel if he knows what might be causing the blockage.”
Knot led them through the first floor to a room at the back of the building. Keelie looked at the bare stone walls and spartan furnishings. If a person could learn about a house’s inhabitants from the furnishings and décor, this place screamed “unimaginative and boring.” The dining room held a long table (fir) with tall, stiff wooden chairs around it. Coyote was nowhere in sight, thank goodness.
Three of the seats were occupied. Miszrial sat at the head, with Elia next to her, shooting resentful glances her way. At the other end of the table, Terciel had stopped eating to nod at Sean and Keelie.
“Good morrow. We did not wake you, to allow you to rest. You will not be with us long enough to follow our ways.”
“Our thanks,” Sean said solemnly, bowing his head. Keelie bowed too, but she only moved forward a little. She’d reserve her bows for people who deserve
d it. She reached out and touched a chair. Fir as well; the wood of choice up here.
Elia said nothing, her eyes on her untouched plate. Breakfast at the elven village seemed to consist of sticks and twigs. Keelie would starve before she got home. Wide, shallow stone dishes on the center of the table held intricately arrayed vegetation.
Keelie tried to smile. “Looks like yummy stuff.”
“We care about our health.” Elia raised her chin.
Lord Terciel looked at Elia and she quickly dropped her gaze. Keelie was torn between wanting to defend Elia and asking if they could give her lessons on how to get the same reaction.
The Council head turned his icy blue stare to Keelie. “Sit, please.”
Keelie took the chair closest to him, and Sean sat to her left.
“First, the ceremony of the winter leaf’s passing and the budding of spring.” He motioned toward Miszrial, who held her hands out, palms up, and began to sing in a weird, twisty language.
Elia stared at her, then raised her eyebrows at Keelie. This must be a solemn moment, but Keelie could have sworn that Elia was stifling a laugh. Elia quickly looked back down at her plate.
Miszrial stopped singing and looked at Keelie expectantly.
“Um, that was lovely.”
“You’re supposed to sing the next verse,” Elia whispered, face still down.
Keelie felt a sharp pain through her right sock. Knot, with perfect timing, as usual. Before she could kick him out of the way, she felt the bhata, like fingertips on a drumhead, all around them, louder and louder. The elves looked at her, expressions bland. Couldn’t they feel it? But no, the elves didn’t see the lesser fae.
The bhata drummed, and the green sap magic of the trees filtered into her head, and suddenly Keelie knew the song, the ancient song that thanked the trees for their leaves, welcomed the buds in spring, rejoiced in the dance of color that preceded the long winter sleep. The bhata’s drumming stopped.
Keelie opened her eyes, although she didn’t remember closing them. Miszrial and Terciel nodded solemnly, and Saliel served them tea in small stone bowls. Elia was staring at her, mouth open.
The Quicksilver Faire Page 5