Read Into the Wildewood Online

Authors: Gillian Summers

Into the Wildewood (34 page)

BOOK: Into the Wildewood
2.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Don’t be foolish.” Elianard gestured impatiently. “Einhorn’s magic can’t save the Wildewood, but it can save the Dread Forest. His death is one of honor, and his magic will give me the power to save the elves.”

He closed quickly on Keelie and snatched off the tektite and the charred heart, yanking the cords over her head. They snagged on her pointed elf ear, and Keelie cried out. She tried to hold onto the cords, but he was too strong. He threw them to the other side of the clearing and then grabbed her right wrist, squeezing until her hand went numb and she dropped the rose quartz.

He pushed her down, and Keelie curled into a ball, overcome by the Dread without the stone’s protection. She would die here, alone, as her mother had died in a plane crash, as her father might now be dying somewhere in the forest. The unicorn was dead, and Elianard had won. All was lost. She trembled, thinking of all the ways that Elianard could hurt her.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that if she had her rose quartz, she wouldn’t feel the Dread. She remembered the way she’d pulled on the rose quartz even when it was far from her.

Elianard was pushing Elia back to her harp. The beautiful elf girl sobbed, but began to play again. Elianard resumed his place by Einhorn, holding the horn triumphantly over the unicorn’s body.

The unicorn faded even more. The feeling of sorrow from the trees was unbearable. This wasn’t the Dread, this was the combined grief of thousands of trees, living and dead, mourning their guardian.

Keelie’s face was wet with tears. She couldn’t do anything. She was just a kid. If her father couldn’t help, what hope did she have?

“No!” She thought of Dad dying as Mom had, alone. And leaving her alone, too. She was afraid to open herself to feel for the rose quartz. What if she felt the trees’ pain instead?

A touch on her cheek made her cry out. Elianard glanced at her, then froze, staring.

Keelie didn’t know what he was looking at. Would she die now? She thought of her friends, still by the camper. She didn’t want to die alone. The touch came again, and Keelie saw that it was the
bhata
. It sat on her arm in a watchful pose.
Yes, you can feel for the rose quartz
, the tiny voice told her. She would find it.

Keelie opened her mind. Her fists closed around moist clods of cool earth—and she felt power.

Huge power. Power that yawned just under the surface of the mountain in a vast, unending pool. She gasped. This was not her little pink crystal. It was warm and earthy and yellow, like a molten sun, like a vast nourishing river that she could draw on, again and again.

Blind with grief, she picked up a strand of it and wove it around herself. The Dread abated. Keelie sobbed and took the power, channeling it through her body until she felt as if she would explode, her skin tingling and her blood pulsing with it. She pushed a bright ribbon of it into the unicorn, and his eyelids fluttered. She stood and ran to him. He had faded, his glow gone. She saw his worn fur, with the bare spots, the stump of his horn bloody and broken where Elianard had ripped it from him.

“Get away from him, misbegotten brat. You can do nothing for him now.” Elianard seized her shoulders, but before he could wrench her away she pulled on the power thread and pushed the molten energy into the dying unicorn.

The power crashed through Elianard, too, and he cried out and released her, reeling back across the clearing. Elia stood and, eyes on Keelie, lifted the harp over her head and smashed it to the ground.

Keelie felt the Dread vanish with the harp’s destruction, and at the same time, the trees sang out their release. She sensed their movement. They were coming.

Elianard turned and ran, crashing down the mountain. Keelie didn’t worry. He was headed toward the approaching trees.

The power thread had wrapped tightly around the unicorn, and with her magic sight, Keelie saw him absorbing the molten energy. But still he lay, eyes closed. Had it all been for nothing?

She wrapped her hand around the unicorn’s mane, aware that Elia was watching, and put her forehead against his cheek. A hand reached down to hand her the rose quartz. Elia smiled uncertainly, then stepped away. The rose quartz in her other fist, Keelie felt for the magic that had helped her before, the strong Earth magic that rose from the mountain beneath her. Then, from the unicorn, she guided it out, far out. She felt it spread like a river overflowing its boundaries. The forests for miles around soaked it in, and green sprang anew.

When there was no place for the power to go, Keelie sent it home, back into the earth below. She was conscious only long enough to hear the explosions on the other side of the ridge, as the power plant blew flame far into the sky.

twenty-eight

A cool whisper blew across her cheek. Keelie opened her eyes and saw the unicorn standing over her. She sat up and stared. He glowed as before, but where his horn had been was a jagged, bloody stump.

She turned and saw Raven standing by the boulder, her fist covering her mouth, crying huge tears from her wide eyes.

“Raven? Are you hurt?”

Raven shook her head. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” But her eyes went to the place where the unicorn stood.

“You can see him.” Keelie stared at her friend, surprised.

Raven took a tentative step forward, and the thing she had in her hand glowed like a star. It was the tektite. The unicorn watched her approach, eyes intent.

“Give it to me.” Keelie reached her hand out.

“No.” Raven’s eyes were fixed on Einhorn. “Don’t be afraid, my lord.”

Einhorn moved toward her, and she touched the tektite to his wound, his head nestled against her like a grieving child.

Keelie went to stand behind Raven and Einhorn, watching them together. The tektite wasn’t enough. She could feel it. She placed her palm flat against Raven’s back, feeling her heart thud, then reached down to the well of power and pushed it through Raven and into the unicorn.

Einhorn tossed his head, and Raven fought to keep the tektite on his wrecked horn. Her hands glowed, then her arms, as Einhorn’s aura engulfed her until they were a single glowing object. Keelie felt herself burn, part of that shining space, and then she fell back into her own body and collapsed on the leaf-strewn ground.

Einhorn reared, glorious once more, his horn restored and gleaming. Keelie staggered to her feet, and Raven turned and hugged her. The two girls clung to each other, laughing and crying at the same time as Einhorn bowed his horn low to the ground, then galloped into the forest.

She’d never gotten to speak to him. A tickle in her mind formed itself into feathery thoughts.

Tree Shepherdess, in saving me, you have healed the forest, and in turn you have healed your father and his people from the humans’ poisons. May they realize that they have in you a phoenix, bringing forth a new era and a new way for the elves.

“Keelie, are you okay?” Laurie stood behind her. “I heard the explosion and came running. The Dread is gone.”

“I’m okay. Did you see him?”

“Your dad? No. Is he around here?” Laurie kicked at the shards of the smashed harp. “What happened here?”

Dad. How was she going to find him with Elianard gone?

Keelie felt a little shaky, but better than she had in days, as if she’d had a full night’s sleep. The green tinge was gone from her skin. She looked around the clearing. Elia had vanished, and so had Einhorn’s broken horn.

We have found your father,
Tavak said.
Follow the bhata
.

The leaves above them shook, and
bhata
poured down the trunks of the trees and raced across the clearing. Hundreds more of the stick fairies flew and crawled around them.

Laurie screamed and climbed onto the boulder. Knot leaped off and streaked into the forest after them, with Keelie in pursuit and Raven right behind.

“Hey guys, wait up!” Laurie’s voice was far away.

With a noise like a thousand castanets, the
bhata
led the way, and Keelie jumped over logs and dodged branches, racing with Knot beside her. The ghostly trees of the forest weren’t scary now, and as they ran, the living trees grew larger until there were only the tall ancients around her.

Knot slowed, stopping on a giant root, and Keelie saw that the tree was prickly with
bhata
, their berry eyes focused on the roots below them. Knot leaped down, and Keelie clambered over and saw, nestled in the crook of the vast tree’s base, her father’s still figure.

“Dad.” She jumped down and knelt beside him. He was breathing, and his skin was once more sun-browned.

You healed him, Tree Shepherdess
, the old tree above her said.
He was safe here until you came.

Thank you for guarding him, Ancient One.
She wondered how she’d get him back home.

She nudged his shoulder. “Dad?”

He moved a little, and then he yawned, stretching wide. He opened his green eyes, a mirror of her own. “Keelie?”

“I’m here, Dad.”

“Lord Einhorn … ” He fell silent, his head cocked, listening to the forest. His eyes widened. “You’ve had quite a night.”

“Don’t listen to the trees, Dad. They’re awful gossips.”

He smiled and grabbed the tree root to pull himself up. It lifted, helping him. Keelie put her shoulder under his other arm and steadied him.

“Elianard?”

“I don’t know. Last I saw, he was booking it down the mountain. Tavak came to the rescue.”

You are the rescuer, Tree Shepherdess
, the Old One said above them. Keelie could see that Dad heard it, too.

As a sign of our trust in you, we give you a great honor and a great responsibility. We offer you a treeling of our forest to root in your Dread Forest.

Dad seemed moved. He was actually showing a little eye leakage. Keelie wondered what the trees were talking about. A treeling. Sounded like some sort of Arbor Day project.

I accept, and thank you
. If the trees wanted to give her a souvenir, why not?

The earth at her feet moved, and she stepped back, alarmed. A huge acorn popped out of the ground and rolled, bumping to a stop at her tennis shoe. Its cap was banded in worked gold.

“Pretty,” Keelie said. She bent over and picked it up. It was heavy.

Dad stood over her and touched the gold ring with a fingertip.
Welcome to our family, Princess Alora.
Princess Alora. The nut had a name. She smiled as she

Princess Alora. The nut had a name. She smiled as she realized that she’d heard Dad’s greeting in her mind.

As they walked back to find the others, Keelie realized that she’d chased Knot through the forest in pitch blackness, using the magic sight to find her way. Raven and Laurie must have turned back. They found them back on the ridge, by the battered Swiss Miss Chalet. Dad insisted that they leave it there and walk down the mountain. By the time they reached the stream, the sun was rising.

Sir Davey was waiting for them on the other bank. He held his lantern aloft and shouted, “They’re over here. Janice. Tell the others.”

Keelie was the first to wade across. She felt fingers around her ankles as she forded the stream, and heard the silvery laugh of a water sprite. “If you knock me in the water, I’ll bring beavers here to dam up your stream.” The fingers withdrew quickly. “Just kidding.”

Sir Davey met her, his expression grave. “Keelie, there’s no easy way to put this. Your father is missing from the lodge.”

“No, he’s not. He’s right over there.” She pointed back across the stream, where Dad was helping Raven down the slippery side. As they watched, he staggered to one side, still weak.

Sir Davey’s eyes brightened and he breathed a big sigh of relief. “Lass, you’ve got a story to tell me, but the Emergency Response Team from Oregon is here, and they’ll tend to your father now.”

Janice arrived, worry lines wrinkling her forehead, her bracelets jangling on her wrist as she draped blankets over Raven, Laurie, and Keelie. “Girls, I’ll get you something hot, and then all three of you need to get into bed and sleep.”

Keelie didn’t feel like sleeping. She watched Janice and her friends take the path that led back to the Faire, with Laurie quizzing Raven about skinny-dipping.

Several elves appeared, carrying a stretcher. “Where’s the Tree Shepherd?” one asked.

Keelie pointed to the stream, where Dad was telling Sir Davey about the night’s adventures, and Sir Davey was filling him in on what had happened at the Faire.

The elves passed her, mostly dressed in hiking boots and dark green cargo pants, with thermal T-shirts sporting the golden tree logo she’d seen on Dad’s elven correspondence. One hung back, an elderly woman whose gray hair was pinned back in a severe bun. She was wearing a long embroidered gown, which reminded Keelie of something from the Middle Ages although she got the feeling this was not a costume. The woman stopped and looked at Keelie.

“Keliel Heartwood, come to me.”

One of the elves leaned over to Keelie. “That’s Etilafael. She’s on the Council.”

Keelie walked over to the elf woman.

The woman lifted Keelie’s chin up, and turned her head to the right and to the left. “The blessings of the trees are upon you, child. I expect great things from you.”

With that, she walked away.

Puzzled, Keelie turned to the enclosure the Emergency Response Team had set up. She couldn’t wait to see the Response Team’s faces when they saw that Dad was totally okay. They had set up barriers around a tent and the entrance was guarded.

Just as she was about to step through, an elven woman blocked Keelie’s way. “You are not allowed.”

“I am, too.”

“Humans aren’t allowed.”

Keelie stood open-mouthed. “That’s my dad in there.”

“You are human. Entrance is denied.” The woman closed the gate to the barriers, and turned away.

She’d saved the unicorn, the forest had given her a treeling, and she still wasn’t considered an elf. If this was a preview of coming attractions, then life was still unfair. Keelie debated stomping back to the campground. No way. Dad owed her some answers.

BOOK: Into the Wildewood
2.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Where Two Hearts Meet by Carrie Turansky
Anne Mather by Sanja
La Superba by Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer
Till the Break of Dawn by Tracey H. Kitts
Spooked by Sharp, Tracy
Dead in Her Tracks by Kendra Elliot
Enlisted by Love by Jenny Jacobs
Our House is Not in Paris by Susan Cutsforth


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024