Shadows of the Redwood

Grandmother maneuvered the truck into the sandy parking lot of the Juliet City Shakespeare Festival, narrowly missing the plywood cartoon cutout of William Shakespeare holding a wooden scroll that read, “Welcome to the Faire.” It wouldn’t have been a loss if the truck had demolished the unflattering portrait. The big, bulging eyes and bulbous nose made the Bard of Avon look like a troll.

Huge sequoias surrounded the festival grounds, and the buzz of their conversation was deafening. Keelie touched her rose quartz, then tapped into her elf magic to put the trees on silent. She would make her introductions later, when she had everything for the shop handled. The truck rolled to a stop and Grandmother turned the engine off with a satisfied smile.

Keelie jumped out, shivering from the chill air. She’d shelved her fantasy of sunbathing in her cute little yellow bikini when they’d passed the steep, rocky beach that was crowded with sleek, fat sea lions. No way. But the town of Juliet City was charming, and she couldn’t wait to visit it and get familiar with the festival grounds.

Knot was on the back of the bench seat, tail swishing, ready to join her. She shrugged and let him out. He’d find trouble no matter where he was.

“What do we do first?” Grandmother was stretching out the road kinks, leaning against the truck hood.

“Check in with administration.” Keelie felt superior because she knew what to do, while Grandmother had never left her woodland home. The Silver Bough Jousting Company’s horse hauler was parked on the opposite side of the lot, and seeing it made Keelie’s heart quicken with excitement. Sean was here somewhere, with his jousters. Of course, Risa was here too, at her new business called “Green Goddess Herbals.”

Things hadn’t been so hot between Keelie and Sean by the time he’d left for the festival. He’d seemed distant. Keelie knew that he was busy with the horses and the other jousters, preparing for the trip, but the worst had been the day when he left. Dad had been right there with the rest of the elves, and Sean hadn’t kissed her. He’d hugged her briefly and said, “See you in Colorado.” That was it. She’d been stuck with the rest of the group, waving goodbye, as if a piece of her heart wasn’t going with him. Elves!

What really bothered Keelie was that Risa had been hanging around the barn in the days before the jousters left, bringing late winter apples, helping to feed the horses, and telling everyone that she was happy to be useful. Keelie was sure that she was scoping out the jousters to see who was available, and maybe even checking out Sean, her former betrothed. No one else thought that Risa was strange, since, after all, Risa was one of the two young, pureblood elf girls, and therefore the biggest chance the elves had of increasing their dwindling population. The other pure elf girl was Elia, Keelie’s frenemy. She didn’t want to think about Elia, even though they weren’t actively at war anymore. Or so Elia said. At least Elia wouldn’t be hanging around at this festival.

Grandmother had climbed back into the drivers’ seat. She rubbed her hands along the rim of the steering wheel, looking like she was very satisfied with herself for having driven them all the way. Then she got back out, holding a leaf-embroidered tote bag, and carefully locked the dilapidated truck’s door. “What are you staring at? Let’s get on with it.”

Keelie shook her head, forcing herself to focus. She looked at the map and notes that Dad had given to her. “It says Admin is on the edge of the parking area.” She looked around. This festival was old and the buildings crowded close to the parking lot, with only a short picket fence separating the cars from the village.

Grandmother gestured toward a house that looked like an English thatched cottage. “That might be the one.”

Keelie shuddered, remembering Finch, the draconic director of the Wildewood Faire. Luckily, that faire’s Admin office didn’t have a thatched roof. Finch’s salty tongue would have caught it on fire.

Grandmother yawned, then pressed her hand against her mouth to suppress another one. “Let’s check in, then go to the campsite. I need to rest. We can check out the festival grounds tomorrow.”

“We need to unload all the furniture,” Keelie said. Grandmother must have forgotten the huge trailer of wooden furniture for sale, which Dad had sent ahead.

Grandmother sighed, frowning “I suppose you’re right, except—”

“Except what?”

“I can’t unload it. My back.” Grandmother rubbed her spine.

Keelie forced herself not to roll her eyes. She’d once caught sight of her reflection in the hall mirror when Dad had been imparting his usual parental wisdom, and realized that rolling her eyes made her look like a peevish little kid.

She eyed the Silver Bough Jousting Company’s horse trailer. Maybe Sean and the other jousters would help her with the furniture. If they wouldn’t do it for her, then surely they would do it for Grandmother, who until recently had ruled the elves of the Dread Forest.

Keelie retrieved the registration papers from her messenger bag. “Let’s get going, then. I’ll figure something out about the furniture.”

Grandmother seemed content to forget the unloading. She stretched her arms wide and swiveled her waist as if she was doing a yoga move. There was a loud pop. “That’s better.”

Keelie had practiced yoga over the winter with Zabrina, who thought it would help her control her magic, but it was strange to see Granny Elf doing yoga. It was as if leaving the Dread Forest had given Grandmother a whole new mindset, and Keelie wasn’t sure what to think of it.

She started up the gravel path that led to the thatched cottage, Grandmother lagging behind, still stretching her arms. Keelie ignored her, choosing to focus on the feeling of efficiency that filled her. This was her third faire, and she knew the routine. She had to find the Heartwood shop and then convince Sean and the other jousters to help unload Dad’s beautiful furniture. She’d park Grandmother somewhere to get her out of the way, or maybe put her in charge of setting up the tent.

Wait until Dad heard. He’d be proud of Keelie’s business prowess. She would prove to him that she could be trusted as well as any adult. Even though she was only sixteen, Keelie considered herself to be an adult. After all the things she’d been through, she should certainly qualify as one.

“Keliel. Stop.” Grandmother’s voice held the “obey me now” tone that she used on the elves of the Dread Forest.

Keelie spun around. “Come on. If your back still hurts I’ll see if there’s a massage shop here. We’re late getting to Admin and there’s a lot to do. The Festival opens day after tomorrow.” Grandmother was cramping Keelie’s efficient business plan.

Grandmother held out a hand to silence her, then turned her brilliant green gaze to the tree canopy above them. She looked at Keelie. “Can you hear them?”

Keelie looked up at the impossibly tall trunks of the sequoias and the leafy canopy that towered above them like faraway green umbrellas. She’d been shielding herself from the trees, not wanting to be distracted by their thoughts and chatter.

Fog suddenly swirled between the trees, enveloping them in eddies like a fast-moving river of white smoke. In seconds, it was impossible to see beyond her grandmother and the silhouette of the Admin building.

Great. Keelie had hoped for twenty-four hours of normalcy before she became involved with the local trees. She had been looking forward to seeing the giant redwoods, but she was afraid of them, too. They were so old.

Keelie closed her eyes and saw, in her mind’s eye, a golden sparkling light interwoven with dark mist. This was fairy magic, she knew. Strange, because she hadn’t seen a single bhata or feithid daoine anywhere. The forest seemed to be empty of fae. She willed the mist to dissolve, and a bright green light illuminated the landscape of her mind.

A strong jolt like a mental punch almost knocked her over, as the redwoods’ thoughts crowded in and around her. A strong and ancient magic flowed through them. Keelie fought for breath and opened her eyes. Faces now pushed out from the bark in the trees, looking at her solemnly. She’d seen the tree faces before in other forests, but usually the tree spirits waited a while to show her.

These guys didn’t waste anytime in revealing themselves. Waves of power poured from them, but Keelie pulled on her magic to create a barrier. Finally she breathed easier, as if the oxygen tap had been turned back on.

Grandmother turned in a slow circle, her eyes wide. “O, Ancient Ones, it is our honor to be among you.”

It is our honor, Keliatiel of the northern forest, to see you and your young sapling Keliel, about whom we have heard so much. The voice seemed to come from everywhere. Keelie couldn’t tell which tree had spoken.

Grandmother bowed her head reverently.

“Hi.” Keelie finger-waved, determined not to show how stunned she was by their age and power. She centered her magic on her barriers to keep from being overwhelmed.

We have much to discuss, and are thankful to the northern elves for sparing you to answer our summons.

Grandmother bowed again, then lifted her palms upwards. “My granddaughter and I are privileged to help the Ancient Ones. We will do whatever is necessary to aid you.”

Was the old lady nuts? You couldn’t make such open promises to a tree. They took everything literally. Keelie wanted to kick Grandmother so she’d shut up. Dealing with Alora the treeling had taught Keelie that trees did not understand little human problems like prior commitments, or fear of death and dismemberment. Despite their grand majesty, she was sensing more than great power from the redwoods. There was great need as well, and something else. Something familiar, but fleeting.

Tonight we shall discuss our problem further, and make formal greetings, the deep voice said in their minds. Until then, tree shepherds. The tree faces melted back into the bark.

Keelie waited for the tree magic to grow faint before wheeling around to confront her grandmother. “Why did you promise them that we could help them? We have no idea what the problem is.”

Grandmother waved her hand nonchalantly. “I don’t think it will be a big deal.” She reached for the papers in Keelie’s hand. “Why don’t we see about registering for the shop and getting the furniture moved out of the truck?”

Stunned, Keelie watched her grandmother stride toward the thatched cottage, all signs of muscle fatigue gone. The old faker was hiding something. What was going on with her? She’d given up being head of the Dread Forest and now Dad had that role, so why was her supposedly exhausted grandmother extending an open-ended offer of help? There was no telling what the redwoods wanted, and it might be something that they couldn’t deliver.

Keelie wasn’t happy about being tricked, but part of her admired the fact that Grandmother had done something she might have done. Keelie never could resist a cry for help.

Grandmother turned around at the door of the cottage. “Are you coming, or do I have to do everything myself?”

“You are too much.” Keelie marched up the steps, but before she could come up with a smartass retort, her grandmother had entered the cottage.

Keelie clenched her fists. Keliatiel was acting like the bossy old elf that Keelie had met late last summer when she’d first arrived in the Dread Forest. She would not let the old woman’s elvish snottiness get to her.

Inside the thatched cottage, the man who greeted them had a beaky nose, long dark hair, and a thin beard on a sharp protruding chin. He sat behind a glistening, polished wood desk that was decorated with Shakespearean knickknacks. The Romeo and Juliet kissing bobbleheads were disturbingly cute. A tarnished nameplate read, “Master Oswald, The Lord Mayor.”

“Ladies, please do come in.” Master Oswald was faking an English accent. Badly.

Two leather wingback chairs were in front of the desk, and their occupants stood up. Sean and Risa.

Keelie stepped back into the doorway and let Grandmother lead so that she’d have a chance to control her expression. How humiliating if they’d seen her joy at spotting Sean turn to anger at the sight of Risa.

Risa smiled at her, eyes flashing, and Keelie knew she’d seen.

Sean bowed. “Good day, Lady Keliatiel. Please take my seat. We were just leaving.” His eyes connected with Keelie’s.

Keelie gave him a squinty evil look. “Fancy seeing the two of you. Together.”

His gaze darkened, and Keelie shivered. She loved that look. Not that she was going to let on.

“So lovely to see you here, Lord Sean,” Grandmother purred. She glanced dismissively at Risa. “And you too, of course, Risa my dear.” Grandmother’s tone was a whole iceberg.

Risa curtseyed, the movement loosening a cascade of red curls that tumbled over her shoulder. Keelie walked behind Grandmother’s chair and gripped its back, enjoying a brief vision of tearing out those red curls by the roots.

Risa’s smile was as fake as the Lord Mayor’s accent. “I’m here with my own business this year. Your family has been so successful with its woodworking, and father and I hope that our herbal remedies will be as popular. We’re honored to begin with the Juliet City Shakespeare Festival.” She batted her eyes at the mayor, who grinned in appreciation.

Fabulous. Keelie would have to stock up on aspirin.

The Lord Mayor beamed at them. “We’re very excited to have Lady Risa selling her wares at our festival, and it’s so wonderful that all of you are friends already.”

Keelie never thought she’d admit this, but she was actually going to miss Elia.

“Thank you for your time.” Risa gave the Lord Mayor a megawatt elf-charm smile. As she glided past Sean, Risa stopped and put a hand on his arm. “Thank you for your help.”

Keelie’s face burned. She stared at Sean, willing him to look at her. She didn’t care if she seemed rude. Sean glanced over at her, then turned to Risa. “Your business will be a success, I know it.”

“Lord Sean, we’re going to be needing your help, along with the other jousters, to unload the furniture into our shop.” Grandmother stared pointedly at him.

“Yes, milady.” Sean bowed to Grandmother and headed toward the door. “See you later, Keelie.”

Risa wrinkled her nose and frowned, but then her expression smoothed and her smile returned, a little forced this time.

Keelie wished she could stare at people and cats and make them do as she willed, a talent her Grandmother wielded

effortlessly.

When Risa left, the Lord Mayor turned to them, sighing. “She’s quite a lovely woman.”

“Do you have our registration information?” Grandmother glared disapprovingly at him. Keelie had been on the receiving end of that look before and knew its scorching effect.

The festival director shook his head as if clearing it. “Yes. Yes. I do.”

He strode over to a filing cabinet and pulled open a drawer, retrieving a brown envelope. “Here we go—Heartwood.”

The Lord Mayor handed the envelope over to Grandmother. “We’re very excited to have you at our festival. I understand you’ll be staying in the forest instead of at the players’ village.”

In the forest?

Keelie looked at Grandmother, who made a sideways chopping motion with her hand. Later. Okay, she’d wait, but it had better be for a good reason. All the Faire folk stayed in the players’ village, including Sir Davey when he arrived in his massive RV. Keelie had been looking forward to a hot shower and morning lattes and muffins in his luxurious digs. Instead, it sounded like they might be camping.

Grandmother smiled regally and inclined her head slightly. Keelie realized that Grandmother looked younger as she spoke to the director. She turned her head and looked at Grandmother from the corner of her eyes, which Dad had taught her was the way to see through elven charm, the glamour they cast to fool humans. Same old Grandmother, stern and elegant. Keelie looked at her straight on, and saw that she seemed younger and taller, and her chest was perkier. The old sneak was using elf charm on the director.

The Lord Mayor bowed, and Keelie followed Grandmother outside. She almost knocked down a slender man, in a red and green harlequin suit, carrying a jester hat under his arm. As the door pushed him back, the bells on his hat jangled, making Keelie shiver at the discordant sound. He grinned like a slithery snake, creeping Keelie out. She felt itchy, as if she’d broken out in a rash underneath her skin. The jester bowed and waited until they were outside, then he slipped in.

There was no sign of Sean or Risa anywhere around. Keelie opened the folded festival map and propped it on the rail fence next to the cottage, scratching at her arm as she located Heartwood.

“Risa was impertinent,” Grandmother huffed. “She seemed to think Sean would agree to her advances.”

“I thought you were all in favor of them getting together? Being full-blooded elves and all.” Keelie kept her eyes on the map, but started walking toward the Heartwood shop. Grandmother trailed behind her.

“Don’t be smart, Keliel. You know that I was wrong, and I apologized. You and Sean have feelings for each other.” Grandmother walked briskly at Keelie’s side.

Grandmother was imagining things. Keelie had never heard an apology, but she didn’t want to start a fight at the beginning of their stay. A fight would ruin her chances of getting to L.A.

“That’s ancient history.” Keelie knew it wasn’t, but she didn’t want to talk about it any more. “Why are we staying in the forest? Is there a campground there? A civilized one?” She quelled the whine that threatened to creep into her voice.

“There is a campground. Our work is in the forest, and we need to stay close to the trees.” Grandmother slowed as they reached the main road. Keelie could see Sean and several of his elven jousters, waiting outside a roomy timber building with a peaked roof pitched high and a heart-shaped sign swinging above the front. Heartwood.

She gave Sean a dirty look and smiled at the other elves as she ran inside. “Grandmother, look at all this room. I can set up the shop any way I want.”

Grandmother followed, looking up at the rafters and checking out the little storage area in the back. “I suppose you can do whatever you like. It’s not our main mission here.”

Keelie returned to the front of the store, which was open to the street and had a long counter. She would put Dad’s dollhouses here. They’d sold very well at the Wildewood Faire and she didn’t know why he hid them in the back.

The next hours were spent moving back and forth from the trailer in the parking lot to the Heartwood shop, as Sean and several jousters carried Dad’s furniture. The jousters left to care for their horses, but Sean stayed to help Keelie and Grandmother move the merchandise around until they were pleased with the effect.

Grandmother was impressed by Keelie’s eye for display, and Keelie didn’t admit that she’d just copied the way the furniture was arranged at the High Mountain Faire in Colorado. If Sean remembered the way the shop had been laid out there, he didn’t give it away.

“I can’t believe we’re done.” Grandmother pushed a strand of silver hair from her forehead. “We’ll have plenty of time to clean up before dinner.”

Dinner? That would likely be bread and cheese, since Keelie wanted to sleep for a couple of days. But she waved at her grandmother and continued to unpack the business gear that went behind the massive counter. She ran across the velvet bag she’d jammed in at the last moment, filled with extra rose quartz charms. Just in case. She pulled a couple out and put them in her pocket.

Keelie worked steadily until Sean wandered over. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt emblazoned with the Silver Bough logo. He rubbed sweat from his face with his forearm. “It gets hot fast when you’re working hard.”

“I appreciate your help. I know Grandmother kind of forced you to do it, but we couldn’t have unpacked everything ourselves.”

Sean reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt, then pulled it off in a single move. As the sweatshirt came off, it dragged up the T-shirt he wore underneath, giving Keelie a view of smooth skin over tight abs. She gripped her pen tighter.

“I didn’t do it for your grandmother.” He shook his hair. “I did it for you.”

“Thanks.” Keelie’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

Sean ran a hand along the countertop. “When I do this, I feel a kind of buzzing, but the wood doesn’t speak to me as it does to you.”

Keelie swallowed, recovering her composure. “Dad says that all elves feel magic, but only tree shepherds hear the trees.”

“You’re more than elf. You’re part fae, too, so you’re different.”

“That’s me.” Keelie spoke lightly, but inwardly cringed. She’d been “different” all of her life, everywhere she went. She changed the subject. “I love the shop’s location, right off the main road. Everyone will have to walk by here when they enter the faire.” She leaned over to straighten the staplers, receipt books, and the credit card machine on the shelf under the counter.

“Better call it the festival,” Sean advised. “They’re sensitive about it. It’s highbrow literature here, you know, not just Ren Faire hijinks.” He winked at her. “Your father will do good business here.” He leaned over the counter, his face close to hers as she straightened.

Keelie didn’t move, hoping he wouldn’t either. “That’s why he let me come with Grandmother. We’ll do okay.”

“Better than okay.” His eyes were on her lips. “You know that there’s nothing between Risa and me.”

“Prove it.” She lifted her chin a tiny bit, moving her mouth closer to his.

“Keelie Heartwood, is that you?” The man’s voice was familiar.

They jumped apart. Keelie looked around Sean, irritated at the interruption. She couldn’t believe it. Her father’s former apprentice, Scott, had entered the shop.

He looked so different. His shoulders were still broad, but now he looked more muscular. Black hair fell rakishly over one eye, and he wore a decent band T-shirt and jeans that fit. Keelie couldn’t believe someone could change from a geek to a hunk in less than a year.

“You know him?” Sean asked. He glowered at Scott, who was smiling at Keelie.

“Yes,” she replied. “Don’t you? This is Scott. He was at the High Mountain Faire, too. He was Dad’s apprentice.”

Sean frowned, then nodded. “Of course. You’ve changed.”

Scott smiled broadly. “Been working out.”

“It shows,” Keelie said.

Sean turned his frown toward her.

“What? I’m paying the man a compliment.” Keelie gave Sean the “you’re not the boss of me” glare.

Scott looked quickly from Keelie to Sean. “Is something wrong? You need help, Keelie?”

“I’m all the help she needs,” Sean growled.

This was a possessive side of Sean that Keelie had never seen. She wasn’t sure that she liked it.

The two men squared off, with Keelie trapped behind the counter. She was torn between horror that they might actually fight over her and a hidden “squee!” of delight.

She turned back to Scott, hoping to defuse the situation. “So, where’s your woodshop?”

Scott turned to her, deliberately excluding Sean from his sight. “I work at Tudor Turnings.” He pointed casually toward the two-story building that leaned crookedly across the road. Its black-and-white, half-timbered second story overshot the first floor, and hung over part of the path like a saggy, out-of-breath old man. Scott grinned at her expression. “It was built that way on purpose.”

“You have got to be kidding. It looks dangerous.”

Sean seemed to relax as the conversation turned more general.

“I’ve got the building inspections to prove it’s not. Want a tour of the inside?”

Sean’s mouth turned down even more. Keelie really wanted to go into the strange building, but she also wanted to kiss Sean, and if she went off with Scott the chances of that happening again might fade. Although she was having second thoughts about kissing Sean after that macho-elf display.

As if summoned by the almost-kiss, Risa appeared on the road outside, wearing a gypsy outfit with a tight corset that showed off her assets as if they were muffin tops on a plate. She was carrying a frosty pewter goblet.

“Lord Sean, I heard you were working hard and thought you might be thirsty.” She put her pouty red lips to the goblet’s rim and sipped. “Ummm … honeyed mead. I brought it for you, but couldn’t resist a taste.” She offered the goblet to Sean.

Oh, brother. Could the girl be more obvious?

Sean reached for the goblet, but Scott beat him to it. “I’m thirsty, too, and I appreciate the offer of a drink, milady.” His eyes looked her up and down appreciatively, then rested on her chest.

Risa looked startled as Scott grabbed the goblet, but just before he put it to his mouth she shrieked, “No!” and slapped it away. The goblet fell to the path and its contents spilled.

Scott stared, dumbstruck, at Risa. “Geez, I was just going to take a sip. I wasn’t going to hog it. Sean could have had some.”

Sean was staring at the puddle. Knot ambled over and gave the puddle an inquisitive sniff, then lapped it up. He loved mead.

Keelie’s eyes met Sean’s, and she knew they were thinking the same thing. Why would Risa bring a drink, taste it, and offer it to Sean, then pitch a fit when Scott jokingly took it? They looked down at Knot, who had consumed most of the spilled mead.

Risa backed away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I knew it was hot work, and I wanted to bring Sean a nice drink, and then—” Her eyes fell on the spilled goblet and widened. Then she saw Knot, and her expression softened.

Keelie almost heard a chime as Knot looked up at the elf girl.

“Oh, such soft fur, such big green eyes. You are the loveliest kitty in the world. I love you.” Risa reached down toward Knot. The cat arched, and his fur stuck out as he backed away.

“She’s bespelled herself,” Sean said.

“That was meant for you, you know.” Keelie watched Risa stalk Knot farther into the Heartwood shop. “Must have been a love potion.” It occurred to her that she could look it up in the Compendium. Yeah, if she had ten years.

Scott shook his head. “Lucky cat. But why isn’t Knot in love with her? Are animals immune?”

“No,” Sean said, looking at Keelie once more. “But fairies are.”

Keelie had to find how long the potion would last, and what else Risa had up her sleeve. Wait until Grandmother found out what the elf girl had done. Using magic against another elf was forbidden. Risa would be in a lot of trouble, once she got over her kitty love.