Dad gestured toward the entrance. “We need to return to the surface before we meet up with any goblins.”
“Dad, I can draw on Earth magic directly to shield myself from the Dread, so I can spare this.” Keelie put the rose quartz in his hand and closed his fingers around it. “I hope it helps.”
He smiled tenderly. “Thank you.” Putting a hand on her shoulder, he followed as she headed out, holding Cricket’s body tightly.
When they reached the surface, Keelie gulped in the fresh air. Relief flowed through her at having her dad back. “Who can help find a permanent talisman to protect you?” she asked. “That rose quartz isn’t meant to defend against heavy-duty magic.”
“Sir Davey, who else? But first, let us put your little friend to rest.” Dad’s voice was gentle as he looked at Cricket.
“Where?” Keelie asked.
“We’re going to ask for a little help from the trees to find the proper resting place.” Hrok, Dad telepathically called.
Yes, Tree Shepherd. Green filled Keelie’s mind.
We need your assistance.
Images of herself holding Cricket spun through her mind like a zoetrope, and then circulated through all the trees in the surrounding forests and mountaintops.
We hear your call, Tree Shepherd.
Dad’s presence and voice encompassed the trees as he instructed them to find a resting place for the little goblin. Green magic enfolded Keelie; she felt a sense of peace, and a oneness with the trees and their energy. She hadn’t known that Dad wielded quite this much power.
Feeling lighter, she opened her eyes to see herself floating above the ground. Then a sickening wave of nausea overcame her as she experienced the familiar sensation of a whoosh.
sixteen
The vertigo faded as soon as Keelie’s feet touched the ground, Dad beside her. They’d landed in a valley tucked between two large Rocky Mountains, which rose like granite teeth on either side. Red, yellow, and orange wildflowers carpeted the meadow where they stood.
The afternoon sun was low on the horizon, its light golden and soft. Fresh air brushed against Keelie’s face and she inhaled deeply. She turned to look at Dad. “I didn’t know you could transport to another location.”
Dad staggered, pale. “I didn’t know, either. Ever since we’ve returned from the Northwoods, my powers have surged, and I don’t know how or why. I don’t even know if it’s permanent or just the result of the wild magic we were exposed to.”
“I’m impressed. But where are we, and how do we get back?” Keelie asked.
“Trust.” Dad pointed to the right. “Why don’t you ask them where we are?”
Three Colorado Spruce trees greeted her, their green voices blended as one. Hello, Tree Shepherdess.
Keelie reached out with her tree sense. Hello.
Your father has become strong, and he is favored by the Great Sylvus.
Pride coursed through her.
What are your names? Keelie asked. She sensed that these trees were very nice. This could be a wonderful place for Cricket.
The first, round tree answered. I am Bruce. He had a jolly tone.
The second, skinny tree waved his branches. You can call me Deuce. His voice was nasally.
You have the privilege of addressing me as Zeus. The third, very tall spruce had a deep baritone echo to his tree speak.
Keelie bowed her head to hide her smile. She didn’t want to offend these trees. Very nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances.
Dad walked up to the trees and bowed his head respectfully.
It is time, Bruce said.
You know why we’re here? Keelie asked. She wasn’t sure yet if they would bury Cricket here, but if they did, she had to know why these trees were allowing a goblin to be buried among their roots. She shuddered, remembering her recent experience in the Redwood Forest with a goblin-infected tree.
A shower of green left Deuce’s branches, laying a trail across the ground that led to a rocky outcrop. The Great Sylvus has asked us to help the little one to carry on his journey.
This wasn’t the first time Keelie had had indirect contact with the elven deity.
Several bhata climbed through the branches of the spruce trees. Feithid daoine buzzed near the top of each tree like a crown of insects. Pixies, the little light fairies, danced in the meadow, and hundreds of butterflies waltzed in midair with them.
It was a peaceful place, and Keelie felt better knowing that this was where Cricket would rest.
The pixies flew to Keelie, and Cricket’s body was surrounded by light. The little goblin floated out of her arms to the spruces, and each took a turn holding him in their branches.
The pixies lowered Cricket to the ground, their bodies creating a glowing pillow upon which he rested. Keelie gathered wildflowers and placed them around him.
The trees watched in reverent silence.
Keelie remembered the Tree Lorem last summer for the Aspen Queen, and felt the need to speak.
“May your spirit rest in peace, my little friend,” she said as she sniffed. A little sparkle shot out of the grave and joined the glittering pixies. They winked out once Cricket’s bright light had joined them.
The spruce trees sighed in unison.
Do not worry, Tree Shepherdess. All will be well. Bruce waved his branches.
Thank you. Keelie smiled through tears.
Dad reached out his hand and she accepted it. “All will be well,” he said.
With a green whoosh, they traveled back to the faire, landing outside the elven village on the path hidden by the trees. Keelie heard the sound of jingling harnesses and chain mail. Sean, Bromliel, and some of the other jousters rode by on horseback, and she and Dad had to jump out of their way.
Keelie and Dad’s sudden arrival startled the horses, and the elves had to rein in their frightened animals.
“Whoa!” Sean shouted. “Lord Zekeliel.”
“Pardon me, gentlemen, my timing is off.” Dad bowed gracefully.
“What are you doing here?” Sean asked. “You’re supposed to be helping my father.”
Above the elven village, helicopter rotors beat the air.
So soon?
Sean straightened in his saddle, haughty and handsome. He met his elven companions’ eyes, as if they all shared a secret.
“You can’t leave yet.” Keelie whirled around and grabbed the reins of Sean’s bay gelding. The horse stepped sideways, but, well-trained, didn’t startle.
“If you’re an elf, then you will return to the Dread Forest with the rest of us,” Sean said. “Where do you stand in this world, Keliel?”
“You’re really and truly abandoning the faire?” She’d hoped maybe Sean would stay.
“If the threat was a human one, or a natural one, we would stay. But goblins-they’re after us, Keelie. We have our own lands to protect. Our own forest.” He held out his hand. “Come with me, and you and I will defend our Dread Forest.”
A sharp pain lanced through her chest as she realized how far apart she and Sean had grown in only a few days.
His expression softened. “Keelie, I will speak to the Council on your behalf and tell them that the fae magic in your blood contaminates your decisions. They will forgive you.”
Saddened, Keelie saw that he truly thought he was being kind.
