Admin office.
Finch’s lips pressed together. “I have a reliable source.”
“Ermentrude.” Keelie had told the old dragon everything that had happened to her since her mother died, and Ermentrude had no doubt passed it on to her daughter. “Don’t worry, the treeling won’t be staying in the meadow. My dad’s going to move it. It’ll be over at Heartwood.”
Finch pinned her with a gaze. “You swear?”
“Yes. But if you want it so much, he’ll deliver it to you. Goblin blood makes very bad tree fertilizer, let me tell you.”
“That’s exactly why I want to see it. That was a foolish thing you did.”
“Tell me about it,” Keelie said glumly. “I had no idea what I was doing. I just thought I’d bring a little life back to a dead spot, and bring something of the Queen Aspen back too.”
We’re here, the Queen Aspen’s children sang.
Yeah, I know. I wish I knew last year, Keelie told them.
“What is this about goblins? And you go seeking them without weapons and without me?” Vangar was walking behind them. They hadn’t heard his footsteps. His iridescent dragon tattoos glittered in the sunlight that was filtering through the trees.
Finch frowned. “Back away, dragon breath. I was sent here to handle this situation. You can pretend all you want in front of the humans, but I know what you are.”
Keelie stared. Dragon breath? Of course.
“But not why I’m here.” The tall dragon regarded her coolly. “I was sent by a mutual associate of ours, to guard Keelie. Seems our two assignments should go arm in arm.” His cold gaze warmed as he looked Finch up and down.
“Or claw in claw,” Keelie muttered under her breath. “I already have a guardian. Who sent you?”
Vangar shook his head, his dreadlocks swinging like braided snakes. “Can’t tell.”
A crunching sound came from nearby and she saw that Cricket had found a trash bin and was pulling out paper plates and munching them down, a blissful smile on his shiny black face.
Vangar huffed. “Sounds like a cricket. Doesn’t look dangerous, does he? But give him a couple of years and he’ll turn mean.”
“Not true. Some goblins are… ” Keelie had been about to say good, but that wasn’t strictly true. “Mean well,” she finished lamely.
Finch laughed, and Vangar let out a roar of mirth. Then both shut up just as suddenly and stared at each other warily.
“Glad you two think I’m so hilarious.” Keelie picked up Cricket, paper plate and all. “Come on, little guy.”
He munched on the rim of the plate, chirping to himself.
“I’m glad to hear the tree will be moved,” Finch said, eyes glued to Vangar’s. “Keep me posted on any developments.”
Keelie left the two dragons still looking at each other and headed back toward the jousting field, where Sean and his knights were exercising their horses.
Cricket clambered up onto her shoulder and perched there like a shiny black parrot.
Feminine laughter sounded from around the bend in the path, and a few steps later Keelie saw a gaggle of girls hanging on Hob’s arm. Keelie didn’t worry that any of them would see Cricket, but as Hob bowed his head to her in greeting as they passed, she could have sworn that his eyes flicked to the goblin on her shoulder.
Could Hob have some fae blood? Or elven? Interesting. She’d have to remember to tell Dad.
Keelie soon forgot Hob, however, as she watched the faire’s merchants put the finishing touches on their shops and booths.
Cricket jumped to the ground and skittered off. He’d probably seen an interesting gum wrapper or a piece of pretzel. She didn’t worry. Unlike stray kittens, little goblins could fend for themselves.
At the bottom of the hill, the faire’s elf ear vendor was leveling his cart, its little roof lined with rubber elven ears dangling grotesquely from their strings. She fluffed her hair out as she passed so that he wouldn’t notice that one of her ears looked just like his merchandise. She’d be mortified if he offered to even her up by putting a prosthesis on her human ear. On the other hand, it might be funny to show up at dinner with two elf ears. Dad and Sir Davey would probably laugh until they cried; they knew that she was fine with her asymmetrical ears. Janice would laugh too. She imagined how her other friends would pass the Elf Ear Challenge: Laurie, her best friend from her old life in Los Angeles, wouldn’t laugh-she’d want a set for herself. Raven, on the other hand, would think it was pretty funny.
Keelie had reached the list field, as the dirt-and-sawdust jousting arena oval was sometimes called. It was also called the tourney field, depending on what movie the speaker had seen. On the long sides of the oval were wooden viewing stands, with tall poles to hold cloth sunshields that kept the audience from getting scorched by the summer sun. The poles were bare now, like skinny baseball bats sticking out of the sides of the stands.
Five of the knights were on their big horses, trotting around the inside edge of the field, but Sean was standing to one side, studying a clipboard. Sir Ian, one of the elven knights standing next to him, saw Keelie and whispered something, then turned away. Sean glanced up to see her, and came forward with a smile on his face.
He stopped when he saw Cricket, and his eyes turned down in dismay. “What is it eating?”
“A paper plate from the trash. I know, gross, but-” Keelie turned to look at Cricket and stopped. A very realistic-looking elf ear was dangling from his bottom lip. He saw her looking and pushed it all the way into his mouth with his insectile fingers, chomping rapidly.
Sean stepped backward, and Ian bent over and threw up.
“It’s rubber, you guys. From the ear vendor up the hill.” She turned and pointed, but the cart was covered with a tarp and the vendor was nowhere to be seen. She turned back to the two horrified elves. “Really, it was a rubber ear.”
It struck her then that Sean would not think it was funny if she wore a fake elf ear over her human ear. He was always so serious. For some reason, this made her very sad.
“Well, I’m heading back up to help Dad. Hope you had a great workout,” she finally said.
Sean nodded. “It was useful to have the horses in the arena again before we work out in armor.”
She waited for him to ask her to dinner, or to take a walk with him, but his eyes kept returning to the baby goblin. “Those grow up fast, you know. Remember the goblins we battled in the Northwoods?”
“He’s one of Herne’s goblins. He won’t hurt anyone.” Keelie knew she’d made a mistake the minute she said Herne’s name. Sean’s eyes narrowed; he was jealous of the nature god, who had risked much to help them when they were attacked by Peascod’s army of rogue goblins.
Keelie suddenly remembered something. “I heard a jangle by the bridge earlier. It gave me chills. I thought Peascod was around.”
Sean’s eyes finally left Cricket and focused on her face. “Did you see any sign of him?” The power-hungry goblin had vanished during their final battle, abandoning his army to its fate.
“No, but there’s the big patch of dirt in the meadow that’s tainted by the Red Cap’s blood. Elianard told me once that goblin blood is useful, for those who know how to use it, when raising power with dark magic. We need to figure out how to clean the area.” Too bad the EPA didn’t do magical soil cleaning.
“I feel helpless-I don’t know how to do that. This is an example of what I’ve been talking about. You’re the one who can solve these things, but what can I do to keep you safe?” Sean gazed intently at her.
“Just be with me. I have fairy guardians and dragon guardians-I don’t need you to keep me safe. I need you to keep me real.”
The expression in his leaf-green eyes told her nothing.
If you were a tree, I’d know what you were thinking.
“As for my dangerous goblin-” She put a hand up to touch Cricket. The little goblin grabbed her fingers and nibbled at her fingernails. She pulled her hand away and reached out to Sean to show that she was unharmed. “See? He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“So you say. They’re smart, and destructive, and evil. You can’t convince me otherwise, especially after what we went through with them.”
“Okay, guess I can’t. See you around?” Keelie was mad now, but she still wanted to see Sean later, away
