Read Into the Wildewood Online

Authors: Gillian Summers

Into the Wildewood (14 page)

BOOK: Into the Wildewood
12.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Dad nodded. “I see. I guess it’s time to use the legendary Heartwood charm. Keelie, we need to go to the shop first.”

Okay, there it was, right there in front of her. Evidence of what she’d long suspected. “You were talking to that cat,” Keelie said accusingly.

Dad arched an eyebrow, and though he looked tired he had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You talk to Knot, too. Every morning you call him a ‘snotball wad of fur,’ and tell him that he doesn’t need to pollute the Earth with his drool.”

“Yeah, but I don’t expect him to answer me. What did he say?”

“Keelie, he’s meowing because he’s a cat.”

“No, this is more. He’s an
elven
cat. You’re an elf. So, tell him to talk so the human can understand him.”

Knot jumped off the tree and sauntered away.

Dad had the nerve to laugh. “I think that’s your answer.”

“Yeah, if that’s the way you’re going to be, furball, I won’t dump your litter box for a week.”

His loud purr wafted back. She wouldn’t really do that to him and he knew it. The vindictive kitty would probably use her clean laundry for a litter box if she didn’t keep his box clean. She’d think up something else to annoy him. It had become one of her favorite pastimes.

Near Heartwood, voices floated toward them from a bend in the road. Through the trees, she caught glimpses of a small knot of people. Dad placed his finger against his lips, which was code for
we don’t need to talk elven stuff
.

“Whatever happens, I don’t want you to interrupt. Do you understand?”

Keelie nodded, remembering Knot’s warning. She caught a whiff of cinnamon, and wondered if it was magic or just the smell of nearby baking scones. Her stomach growled. Magic didn’t seem as scary in the daylight.

When the group came into view, Keelie wanted to run. Finch was at their head, heavy boots pulverizing acorns as she stomped toward them. The woman looked unhappy—no change from her usual expression—and she was followed by three men who were either spies or FBI agents. They wore jeans and polo shirts, which was very normal, but their extreme work boots, mirrored sunglasses, and robot attitude did not say “fun Ren Faire weekend.” Neither did their toolboxes.

A fifth person strutted into view, and she was definitely out of place. The woman wore a pink skirt-and-jacket outfit out of a 1980s sitcom. Her maroon high heels didn’t match her outfit. A color-blind fashion victim. She wouldn’t survive a minute in LA.

She carried a camera, and she was looking around and snapping photos.

Finch’s red hair was piled in a tumbleweed of a bun, and her face and neck were flushed to almost the same color. The dragon was stoking the flames. Finch must be going to barbecue Keelie for getting fired again, or maybe for not returning her Steak-on-a-Stake costume. She hoped she wasn’t going to have to pay for that loser outfit. The cape had gotten burned, and the rest, including the ridiculous gold gnome booties, was ruined.

Dad bowed elegantly as they approached. “A beautiful day, is it not?”

Finch’s color went from hot sauce to peaches and cream, and the lady in pink smiled brilliantly.

The odor of cinnamon was heavy now. Either the tea shop had gone into overtime, or this was elven magic.

twelve

Dad took Pink Suit’s hand and bowed over it. “I have heard that there are magical beings in this forest, and truly I believe it now, for such beauty cannot be mortal. My first glimpse of you will be forever etched in my memory, and I will define my waking days from the second I saw you. You must tell me your name.”

Okay … hand out the barf bags. But Dad had said not to interrupt.

The woman smiled, exposing more of her flashy white teeth. No wonder those dudes wore sunglasses. The glare from Pink Suit’s teeth would’ve blinded them. “My name is Dawn Valentine.”

Finch had taken a step toward him, as if she thought his words were for her. Dawn Valentine, the town council-woman with the stripper’s name, seemed hypnotized. Keelie was going to have to save her father. He had to be truly sick to be making lovey-dovey eyes at this woman.

Pink Suit flicked her hand toward the three men in sunglasses. “Go check out the privy at the end of this lane.” She pulled a Ren Faire map from her clipboard and gave it to the first guy.

He nodded and motioned with his head at the other two guys. They automatically followed him, focused on the sensors they’d pulled from their toolboxes. Even their steps were in unison.

Dad’s smile widened. “Dawn Valentine. Lovely. A name for a goddess.”

Goddess! Keelie felt a little nauseous.

Pink Suit pulled the hairpins from her bun and released her mousy brown hair, which fell limply to her shoulders. Highlights, volumizer, and a decent trim, stat! She looked Dad up and down. “And you are ... ?” Her tone had gone all girly and coy. Barf.

“How remiss of me. I’m Zeke Heartwood.” He extended his hand once more in an elegant gesture. The woman placed her hand limply into his.

Very nice, except Dad didn’t let go of her hand, and the woman didn’t look like she was in any hurry, either. Definitely elf flu. Either that or he’d gone insane.

Dad turned to Finch. “What are you ladies doing on such a lovely day?”

Finch gestured toward the woman. “Ms. Valentine’s with the Canooga Town Council. She’s here accompanying the gentlemen with the EPA.” She shot Pink Suit a dirty look.

“Have you found anything?” Dad looked into her eyes.

“They want to check out some unusual air readings near the mountaintop. There’s a power plant on the other side.” Ms. Valentine gestured toward the departing men. “And they’re setting up groundwater testing.”

Finch pointed in the direction of the forested hill behind the Enchanted Lane. “We were on our way up.”

That was where she had last seen the unicorn, Keelie realized. She doubted Dawn Valentine would be able to see a unicorn, but she was afraid that the EPA dudes had something that could sense the unicorn’s magic. She needed to get up to the mountain. With Dad busy, this would be a good chance to check it out.

“Can I join you? In addition to being a master carpenter, I am very knowledgeable about the forest.”

“No thanks. We have two scientists working with us,” Dawn Valentine replied.

“I have degrees in biology, geology, forestry management, and medieval poetry.”

Three hundred years gives you a lot of time to get an education.

“Wow!” Dawn Valentine seemed to have melted. She was looking at Zeke as if she was ready to give him everything he asked for.

Instead of looking disgusted at her reaction, his smile warmed. “May I escort both of you lovely ladies up the hill-side?”

Dawn simpered like a homely high school girl who was being loved on by the quarterback. “I would love it, but I know Ms. Finch has a lot of work to do, and I’ve taken up enough of her time.”

Finch, who seemed immune to Dad’s charms, nodded and looked relieved. “I do have a mountain of paperwork. I’ll let the two of you investigate the hillside.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Dad offered the hypnotized Dawn Valentine his elbow, and she linked her arms through his. They strolled down Enchanted Lane together. Keelie looked up expectantly at the oaks, hoping they would dump acorns on them, but none came.

Finch sneered as she watched them go. She glanced at Keelie. “Your dad can sure pile on the Heartwood charm.”

“Yep.” “Yep”.

“Doesn’t work on me!” She laughed. “Your dad is doing me a favor by getting Valentine out of my hair, so I’ll overlook the fact that you didn’t return to Admin after you got fired from Steak-on-a-Stake. I heard all about it. Turn your costume in bright and early on Saturday morning, and be ready to grovel, and just maybe I’ll give you another job.”

Keelie felt sick.

The costume was trashed. Her life would be over on Saturday morning. But Janice probably had a needle and thread; she could fix it. If not, then Keelie would have to write out her will this week.

Finch glanced at her illegal, anachronistic watch and frowned. “Gotta haul my butt over to the campground to make sure Little John has taken his medication. I swear all I do is babysit actors, artists, and whiners.” She started marching down the path. The dragon was back.

Dad was nowhere in sight, and Keelie returned to the shop to eat lunch. She needed to come up with a plan. She needed to be smart about this, and not go charging into the woods and possibly lead the EPA to the unicorn.

To her delight, the white cat sat atop the counter waiting for her. Knot was on the other end of the counter, purring his head off. The two cats were like furry bookends, except that the white cat didn’t purr. Keelie scratched its head. The more she thought about it, maybe now would be a good time to go and search for the unicorn.

“Have you seen my mystical friend in the woods?”

The cat closed its eyes and tucked its tail under its body.

She could walk in the woods to clear her head, and maybe if she ran across the unicorn, she could warn him about the EPA people and tell him to be careful. There had to be something she could do to make him better.

As she stepped out of the shop, Dad returned. “Where do you think you’re going?” He reached for Keelie’s elbow and guided her back inside.

“I was going to look for the unicorn, to warn him.”

“I don’t want you going into the forest alone.” His green eyes sparkled and his skin glowed. He leaned against one of the shop’s posts. The cinnamon scent faded, and with it, his glow, until he looked as worn and sick as he had at breakfast. Worse, even.

“Dad you look awful. Let me find the unicorn. I know I can do it.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead as if his head ached. “You know, the elven have a saying: ‘As the forest goes, so go the elves.’ We’re not doing very well.”

“Then how come I’m not sick?”

He reached out to touch her rounded right ear. “Thank your mother.”

“That doesn’t explain Elia and Elianard. They look like you do when you put on the elven bling.”

A pathetic twitch of his lips was probably supposed to be a smile. “Elven bling?” He frowned. “So, those two are unaffected? Curious. I’m trying to discover what’s going on, and I’m convinced they’re part of it.”

“Does that include acting like a gigolo with that woman in the hideous pink suit?”

“A gigolo? That’s insulting.”

“You actually know what a gigolo is? Astonishing.”

“Don’t look surprised. I read. And I was merely charming Miss Valentine, and redirecting her attention away from the unicorn.”

“You didn’t do it with her, did you?” Keelie didn’t really want to know the details of how he’d redirected her attention, but she blurted out the question as soon as it popped into her mind. “That would be so gross.”

Dad’s face grew as red as Finch’s. “Absolutely not! You don’t ask your father a question like that. To reassure you and your overactive imagination, Miss Valentine isn’t my type, and I wouldn’t glamour a woman for romantic purposes. I don’t need to. Come on. We have to get back to work.”

“Work? In your condition? You dragged me to the herb shop for the tincture, and now I think it’s your turn to go there.” Maybe Dad was affected by the woods cursed with the Dread. But the Dread wasn’t here, and she was still getting that creepy, anxious feeling that made it hard to breathe—which preceded the paralyzing fear.

“What’s wrong, Keelie?”

“Yes, Keelie, whatever is the matter?” asked an oily voice. Elianard entered the shop and Keelie grimaced. Cinnamon was still the smell of the Dread. And of Elianard.

Elianard was a Ren Faire god in his flowing, embroidered robes. He lowered his gaze to the blocks on the worktable and smiled. “Your daughter is making your toys? How gratified you must be, Zekeliel. She is just like you. Well, the elven part.” He looked up, green eyes full of malice. “The forest dies around us, and you make toys, Tree Shepherd.”

Ouch. He was saying exactly what she’d been thinking. How disturbing to share opinions with evil Elianard. Keelie stood with her hands on her hips, determined not to let him get to her anymore. The magic rose in her. She stepped away from the walls and furniture, seeking distance between herself and wood. The hair on her arms stood on end, and Elianard’s long silvery locks starting to float around his head. He looked like a dandelion puff she could magically blow.

Dad stepped between her and Elianard, blocking the haughty elf’s gaze. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to deliver a message from the Council.” He smiled. “They’ll be arriving from Florida and Oregon. You’ve been summoned to answer for the oaks and for the status of the Wildewood. In the meantime, three of us wish to speak to the evergreens. We want to hear from them personally what ails this woodland realm because the Dread will soon be following the same pattern. You will be our guide, Tree Shepherd.”

“If I refuse?”

Elianard smiled. “You have no choice. Keliatiel commands it, as she should, given your family’s history.”

Dad flinched as if Elianard had punched him in the face.

“We’re meeting tonight at moonrise, in the old oak glade in the shadow of the three mountains. You’ve been summoned … ” Elianard raised an arm and pointed toward the hills that towered over the river’s edge. His long sleeve swept back, the end trailing the ground, the embroidery shimmering in the soft light. All of him seemed to glow with some type of luminescence. “ … To take us to the evergreens.”

No wonder Dad looked shocked. His own mother had sided against him. Normally, Keelie couldn’t stand Elianard, but there was something about him today that intrigued her, a charisma that hadn’t been there before. Was Dad’s charm magic still lingering in the air? She couldn’t tell. The Dread smelled of cinnamon, too.

“And you volunteered to meet with the evergreens?” Dad arched an eyebrow. “Why? What do you really want?” Keelie knew he suspected Elianard of bringing the Red Cap down on them in Colorado, and wondered why he didn’t just accuse him.

Elianard put a hand against his chest, frowning as if injured. “Don’t you trust me? Surely you do not think that the unfortunate series of circumstances at the High Mountain Faire had anything to do with me?”

BOOK: Into the Wildewood
12.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Boats of the Glen Carrig by William Hope Hodgson
Terri Brisbin by The Duchesss Next Husband
In Pale Battalions by Robert Goddard
Back Online by Laura Dower
NAILED by Macko, Elaine
Arguably: Selected Essays by Christopher Hitchens
Guilty of Love by Pat Simmons


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024