Candles in a chandelier flickered above, throwing a honey-soft light on the wooden table in the middle of the cold and austere room. Several elves had gathered around the table including Elianard and, surprisingly, Lady Etilafael, the head of the Elven Council in the Dread Forest. What was she doing here?
Keelie had been right. It was a Council meeting, and she didn’t have a good feeling about this one. Not that her prior experiences with elves had been a picnic, but tonight’s meeting seemed extra somber. Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow or the next day, when they’d recovered a little from the fire?
“Good evening, Zekeliel.” Elianard motioned toward an empty chair. “Please sit. It seems this couldn’t wait, although I encouraged all to have this meeting take place during daylight hours.”
The jousters had lined up against the back wall. They all wore stoic expressions. Keelie knew these guys- when they weren’t jousting they liked to clown around with Sean, but here, under their steely and hard gaze, she felt as if she was standing accused of something. It reminded her of when she’d been taken before the Council on suspicion of using dark magic. She shivered.
“Evidence has been found that goblins are on the move, and that they are here hiding in and around the human town of Fort Collins,” said a voice from the shadows.
Chills danced up Keelie’s spine as she recognized the speaker. As if sensing her awareness, Lord Niriel stepped forward. What was he doing here? He’d been exiled, last fall, for his role in the assault on the Wildewood unicorn in a misguided attempt to protect the Dread Forest. Even though Niriel was Sean’s dad, Keelie couldn’t forgive the handsome elf.
Dad stiffened beside her, and he reached down to squeeze her hand.
Tonight Niriel was dressed in jewel-toned robes; it certainly didn’t look as if he had been roughing it on the road. Of course, he’d been living in Germany, where he’d been sent on a swordsmith exchange, so he probably had plenty of cash for nice garb.
He looked around the table, then spoke in grave tones. “Recently, I sought an audience with Terciel, the leader of the Northwoods elves, and he spoke of many disturbing things.” Niriel paused. “One is that a goblin army is on the move, and I have come to warn you that they are here.”
Etilafael looked around at the assembled elves. “Although Niriel was sent away from his home forest, he still strives to help his elven brethren. This grave news, on the heels of the attack in the Northwoods, tells us that we need all the help we can assemble. His diligence and his need to protect all elves have enlightened the Council. Therefore, we have decided to abolish his exile, reinstating him to his former status within our clan.”
Murmurs of approval circulated among the elves.
Keelie nearly swallowed her tongue. Furious, she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Niriel had been slapped on the hand, told he was a bad elf, and asked to behave nicely.
“What evidence have you found?” Dad asked, very calmly. His eyes were glued on Niriel, waiting to hear what words he would spout to worm his way back into the good graces of all the elves.
“During the months I’ve had to endure without my son, my home forest, and my tribe”-Niriel swept his hands around in a dramatic gesture-“I traveled to Portland, the human city, where rumors hold that goblins roam in large numbers. The diabolical creatures live in the sewers and exist on garbage, and now I have evidence they have spread, and are here.”
A sinking feeling hit Keelie in the pit of her stomach when one of the jousters brought a silver cage into the room. Cricket sat in the middle of it, chewing on a plastic bottle, oblivious to his surroundings. They placed him in the center of the table. All of the elves scooted back, expressions of horror flashing across their faces.
Keelie was about to run and snatch up the cage in her arms, but Dad blocked her with an outstretched arm. She cut her eyes over to him, and he shook his head.
“This creature does not seem threatening,” Dad declared. “Do you base your fear-mongering on this pathetic insect?” His voice was suddenly in her thoughts. Don’t react, whatever happens, Keelie. I’m afraid that if they destroy your pet, you will be next. His hand squeezed hers again.
Even knowing that Dad was just trying to calm the elves’ fears, Keelie felt a twinge of outrage. Cricket was not an insect.
Niriel walked around the table until he was directly across from them. “Lord Zekeliel, you have lost much because of the goblins. Your home here, your business-I would think that you would be the first to call for their destruction.”
“What is your interest in this, Lord Niriel? Or do you have unconcluded business from our last encounter in the Dread Forest?” Dad ignored the gasps around the table.
Keelie saw Sean wince, then carefully school his features. Why hadn’t he warned her that his father was here?
“At the risk of sounding callous, Lord Zekeliel, where there is smoke, there is fire.” Niriel gestured toward Cricket. “The presence of this small specimen is a sign that there are more, and we have seen the damage that goblins can do. We must act swiftly.”
“There are no other goblins,” Keelie cried. She couldn’t believe the elves were accusing Cricket. “He’s a baby! How could he have started a fire?”
“How do you know this?” Niriel barked.
“Because I brought him here. He was with me.”
Dad groaned.
“So, you don’t deny bringing this creature?” Niriel’s eyes were bright with a mix of hatred and madness. “You are only confirming what we already knew.”
“He followed me from the Northwoods. He’s harmless.”
Etilafael cleared her throat. “Mayhaps the child has misguided intentions, but I don’t think she would purposefully ally herself with the goblins.”
“Our brave warriors fought against these creatures, who followed a being most foul-Peascod, a goblin in the service of the hunter god, Herne,” Niriel snapped in reply. “Keelie was seen with Herne, and it has been reported to me that the god coveted her and named her consort before the Grey Mantle Council. Of course she will defend the goblin spawn. And”-Niriel leaned forward-“she knows the location of the goblin stronghold.”
Stunned, Keelie glared at Sean, who shook his head. What had he been saying to his father? Were they speaking of the goblin stronghold in the Northwoods?
“I don’t know anything about a goblin stronghold,” Keelie said, hoping they could see the truth in her eyes. She knew that the dark fae lived Under-the-Hill, but she wasn’t about to reveal the existence of this realm to Niriel, or to the other elves.
“My daughter has said all she will say tonight. She knows nothing of a goblin stronghold. Can we adjourn this meeting and reconvene another time? I lost my shop in a fire tonight.” Dad’s eyes flashed. “I have much to do.”
“Yes, we all know of your loss. The humans accuse the one named Vangar, but the Council and the elves do not think he is behind the fire. Humans do not have the magical means to find the real arsonist.”
Did the elves truly know something about who was behind the fire? Keelie yawned. Fatigue was settling into her body but she forced herself to listen to every word.
“And this cannot wait until morning?” Dad’s voice was weary.
Niriel bowed his head. “I understand your fatigue and the sadness of your loss. We all sympathize. But we need to address the loss of the Compendium, too.”
Dad sighed and his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “Get on with it then, Niriel.”
“Lord Elianard, if you will.” Niriel gestured, and the Lore Master rose from his chair and placed a torn square of thick paper in the middle of the table. The candlelight acted as a spotlight, making the shred of paper glow.
Keelie forced herself not to react. She recognized the parchment from the Compendium. She lifted her face to find Niriel staring directly at her.
“I see you recognize it.”
Keelie refused to answer, biting down on her lip as she turned to her father for guidance.
“Where did you get it?” Dad asked. “Did the Compendium not burn in the fire?”
“We found it with this creature!” Niriel flourished his hand over Cricket. “He was eating it.”
Keelie winced.
The little goblin threw the remains of his soft drink bottle at Niriel. The elven lord stepped back and raised his hand as if he was going to strike the goblin, despite the bars that enclosed the creature. At the last moment he
