He shook away the transformation, relaxing his shoulders, then smiled and nodded. “Hello, folks.” He turned to Keelie. “I’ll gather the others,” he said softly.
“There are monsters in the woods,” Blakely said, her voice shrill. “Don’t go down that road.” She pointed to the East Road.
Vangar nodded. “Thanks, I won’t.”
Before Keelie could stop her, Blakely was yelling into phone. “I need the editor, now. I’m sending some photos from my phone. I have the scoop. Those sightings of green men at the faire-I have proof they’re real. No, not makeup. We’re talking some kind of green monsters, with axes, wearing armor. This is big.”
Keelie didn’t think Finch was going to like this latest development. If the world discovered that goblins were real, what would happen to those with real magic? Would they be subject to government testing? Would they be socially ostracized? She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“I think you need to meet our faire director,” she said.
“Does she know what’s going on here?” Blakely asked.
“Um, yes.” Keelie ran toward the Admin office by the main gate, the reporters huffing and puffing behind her.
In Finch’s office, the dragon-woman broke several pencils as Blakely explained how she’d run into goblins and sent the pictures into the newspaper.
Then the reporter’s phone rang. “No, that’s awesome news-I’ll let them know,” she said into her phone. She beamed at Keelie. “CNN, the Associated Press, all the news stations picked up my story, and they’re on their way with cameras. In twenty-four hours this place is going to be covered with reporters.” She did a little dance step, beaming with excitement.
Finch’s pile of broken pencils was getting scary.
Keelie needed to find Dad and make sure he was safe. He was probably thinking the same thing about her.
Finch’s radio crackled on her desk. Vangar’s voice was garbled, but clear enough to make out his warning. “Goblins have been seen near the elven camp. I’m sealing the shields around the faire.”
Finch paled.
“What does he mean, seal the shields around the faire? Do you have soldiers guarding a secret compound?” Blakely asked.
“It means you’re not leaving.”
“What?” The reporter reeled back from Finch’s booming voice.
Once again, Keelie wished she had the Compendium- she could’ve cast a forgetful spell on the reporters.
“Keelie, contact the trees. Find out the situation with the elves.”
“Elves. Contact trees?” Blakely looked like she was about to wet her pants. “If I hadn’t seen those slimy, greeny-gray guys myself, I’d think this was a LARP.”
“LARP?” Finch frowned.
“Live Action Role Playing-it’s a game,” Keelie explained.
“What kind of games do humans play?” Finch asked, not expecting an answer. She pressed a button on a remote control and a wall panel slid to the left, exposing swords, spears, and maces. It was a fully stocked medieval armory.
“Quite the collection,” Keelie said as Finch removed a short blade from the wall.
Blakely stood, open-mouthed, while her photographer got busy snapping pictures.
“Can you handle a sword?” Finch asked the reporter.
“I took fencing in school, but I did foil. These are all edged weapons,” she said.
“I’m impressed that you called it an edged weapon. So, close enough.” Finch handed the hilt of the short blade to the reporter. “We’re at war, sweetheart, so you’re going to have to slice and dice if you’re attacked. Otherwise, you’re dead. Keelie, what do you want?” Finch held out a selection.
Keelie had wielded a sword before. She chose a rapier with an emerald in the pommel. “This one.”
Finch nodded her approval. “Good choice.”
“This is for real.” Blakely’s voice was serious.
“It’s for real,” Keelie replied. “I’m going to contact the trees.” Plus, she wanted to make sure Dad was safe. She took comfort in knowing that the elves, at least, were on their way home.
Stepping outside, Keelie took a deep breath and sought out the greenness.
Hrok.
The tree didn’t answer. What did reply to Keelie’s summons wasn’t Hrok.
Do you seek counsel with your tree friend?
An orange and red light filtered through Keelie’s mind. The fieriness reminded her of a goblin’s eyes.
Who are you?
Surely you can guess?
Melankin?
Perceptive. That is one of my names.
Elven lore doesn’t tell of a goblin tree shepherd. I’m not sure it’s possible. Goblinkind are linked to rocks and crystals, not living things.
The elves think they’re the only species who can live in harmony with nature. My kind lives in close association with the humans in the cities, nature of a different sort. It is our way of preserving our independence, but still being part of this world.
Keelie couldn’t argue with this point. The elves had withdrawn into their forests and isolated themselves.
Why are you attacking the faire? These are innocent people here. If you’re a friend of trees, then you wouldn’t put them in harm’s way. You would leave the faire. And you say goblins live closely with humans, so why hurt them?
I am indeed a friend of trees, but I’m not an elf friend, nor a human friend.
Why this faire?
Why, Keelie, I thought the reason would be obvious.
I’m clueless. Enlighten me.
Laughter erupted in her mind, making it pound with red and yellow bursts. She inhaled. Could it be Tavyn? He had talked to the Redwoods, but those ancient trees could be seen and heard by all if they wished to reveal themselves.
Getting closer. In fact, you’re red hot.
The trees may know you by the name Melankin, but the goblins and elves call you Tavyn.
Ah, Keliel, you’re a smart one. What else do you know?
You’re here at this faire because you want to get your revenge against me for foiling your plans in California.
One of the reasons. But you have something in your possession that I want.
Keelie had no idea what he could want. She had nothing of value. Could it be her magical cat? You mean Knot?
She felt a wave of disbelief trickle through her mind. As if. That cat is a curse to anyone who owns him. You two are a well-matched pair. I’ll make a bargain with you, Keliel. We’ll save the trees, we’ll save the humans and their little faire, and no one gets hurt if you make a trade with me.
Keelie’s heart started to thud faster. What could he want that was worth disrupting and destroying so much? What do you wish to trade?
You give me the Compendium, and I’ll call off my goblins, and your humans will be safe. You have until sunset today.
It was already mid-afternoon. Keelie felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t possibly comply. The Compendium was a pile of ashes.
