Into the Wildewood (3 page)

She hadn’t figured out exactly what he was, but she’d been told that he was her guardian, as he’d been her mother’s. The cat was some kind of magical being, a fairy, maybe, and some day she’d figure out his secret. One thing was clear: he was obnoxious. She strained to hear the combined sound of Dad and Sir Davey’s voices as they spoke in the living area of the RV, but she couldn’t make out any of their conversation. She couldn’t sleep. She sat up and pulled aside the curtains to look out into the night. From a hilltop far away she saw a sparkling silver light, like a small earthbound star glimmering. Was it the unicorn?

Something sharp clawed her ankle. Keelie gasped. Two green eyes glowed at her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Keelie picked up Knot and dropped him off the bed. She closed the curtains and lay back down. Loud purring filled the room as Knot hopped back onto the bed and walked up alongside her body, purring louder and louder with each step. Then he settled down on her pillow.

“Gross! No way am I going to sleep with a wet cat on top of my head.” She moved her head to the other pillow and closed her eyes. It was probably futile, with the unicorn in the forest waiting for her. She reached down for the rose quartz that she’d brought into the bed with her. With it clasped in her hand, she finally slept.

The following morning, Keelie stood next to Sir Davey’s RV and stared at the trees. Hemlocks, birch, and spruce grew together to form this patch of forest near the campground, with a few oaks sprinkled in. Trees carpeted the rolling hills, and the blue and purple Catskill Mountains loomed in the background.

She walked closer to the tree line behind the camper, glancing behind her to make sure Dad wasn’t watching. Under the low branches of the spruce trees, it was dark and the scent of loamy earth tickled her nose. A tingle of magic jolted her. She stepped back, wary. Wind rustled the leaves on the birches, and the branches on the hemlocks trembled in the cool air. Above her, the spruces danced in the breeze. She heard green whispers; the trees were aware of her presence. There was an undercurrent of sadness, deep grief, and pain in the green energy of the trees. Something tragic had happened to the forest, and it hadn’t healed from the trauma.

Keelie was leery of these unknown trees. The aspens in Colorado had helped her, and she’d helped them, although it had been weird to have them inside her head. But there was a very creepy tree vibe coming from this forest. Keelie didn’t want to go in, but she sensed the unicorn was there, waiting for her. The heart-shaped amulet that hung around her neck, the heart of the aspen Queen Reina, grew warm against her chest.

Magic prickled over her skin once again. Keelie wondered if the unicorn was nearby.

Her fear faded as she remembered how he’d glowed in the moonlight. She longed to see his horn glimmer in the sun, and wondered what color his eyes were. She heard the crunch of dry leaves as someone or something walked nearby. If she hiked into the woods, she might be able to find the unicorn. A longing to do so welled up within her. Then the dry leaves crackled even louder, as whomever or whatever came closer. Keelie’s heart raced. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the rose quartz. Warmth flooded her. Unicorn or Red Cap, she was protected.

Staring at the base of the spruce trees, Keelie noticed a moss-covered rock. It was standing upright, as if it had sprouted roots deep into the soil. At the rock’s base, several tiny red mushrooms grew in a circle. A fairy ring. She looked around, but saw none of the stick-like fairies she’d met in Colorado—the
bhata
.

Suddenly, Knot landed nearby like a furry ninja. Keelie jumped back, and her bare arm brushed the bark of a spruce. Green filled her mind, but not the peace of the green woods she’d known before. This was an agitated presence.

Knot dug up one of the mushrooms, his tail twitching. It was time to go, before the fairies discovered that their ring was broken.

“You never learn, do you? Remember what the
bhata
did last time they caught you?” She’d look for the unicorn another day. Right now, she needed to find Dad. He’d told her to meet him at the new shop. She backed out of the forest, careful not to touch any branches or bark, and headed for the Faire.

Using the map her dad had given her, Keelie quickly found his shop. It was located in the congested Enchanted Forest Loop, across from a small grove of oaks. Zeke’s shop was one of many lined up together, sort of like houses in California subdivisions where homes were so close together you could reach over and tap your neighbor’s second floor window. All around her, Keelie saw artisans and craftsmen busily preparing for the opening of the Faire.

Her dad’s shop was crowded with crates, some already opened, and the vine-and-crystal-embellished chairs she loved stacked haphazardly around. Keelie was amazed at how different this plank-floored structure was from their half-timbered, two-story place at the High Mountain Faire. This little shop had a wide, open front, a small counter in the middle, and shelves on the back walls for the dollhouses and wooden castles Zeke had brought to sell. A door in the rear wall probably led to a storage area or a workshop.

The place seemed empty, so Keelie ducked back out. Down in the cul-de-sac area of the Enchanted Forest Loop she found a familiar spot, Janice’s herb shop. At this Faire it was called the Apothecary Shoppe, and—yuck—it was right next door to the privies. She bet Raven and Janice would be burning incense and scented candles by the barrel-load before the end of the summer.

One good thing about the loop was that it was going to be filled with busy foot traffic as the mundanes (the uncostumed Faire goers, according to the Rennies) made their way to the privies. Even now, activity hummed in the air, accompanied by the sound of hammers, electric saws, and conversation as everyone rushed to finish before the crowds appeared.

Majestic old oaks lined the path, shading it with their canopies of leaves. Hundreds of acorns blanketed the muddy roadway, a hazard worse than throwing bags of marbles around. Two men in yellow shirts, with “Security” written in black letters on the back, were raking and sweeping the acorns up.

The taller of the two kicked at an acorn with his heavy black work boot. “You’d think these stupid trees would run out of these dad-blame acorns.”

The other one kept raking. “It ain’t natural for trees to make this many acorns over and over, day after day.”

Keelie closed her eyes and sensed the sentient presence of the trees, but something was wrong. These trees were older, much older than the ones near the campground. According to what Dad had taught her about trees, old trees were more cognitively developed, could wield more magic, and could telepathically communicate with each other and with tree shepherds. But these oaks, old as they were, seemed almost primitive.

And they were angry.

three

Keelie pressed the rose quartz against her chest as rage like hot sap flowed through her veins and poured into her mind. Then the anger stopped as a cool green energy flowed through her. Something furry was rubbing against her leg. She looked down expecting to see Knot, but to her surprise it was a skinny white cat.

“Where did you come from?” Keelie reached down to pet the white kitty. “You probably saved me from having some kind of green lava eruption.” The cat arched its back against her outstretched hand, and then raced into the woods across the lane.

One of the security guards stopped and looked up at the trees. He wiped his forearm across his reddened forehead. “I don’t see why Finch doesn’t chop these trees down. She’s always blowing a gasket over these oaks because the shop owners complain about the acorns.”

Keelie sensed dark green anger sweeping through the trees. The oaks brandished their branches as if a high wind were blowing through their leaves, and suddenly a barrage of acorns rained down on the two security men. One acorn landed, with a hard thump, on her scalp. Arms covering her head, Keelie ran back across the lane to Dad’s shop.

From the safety of the enclosure, Keelie watched the two security guys run down Enchanted Lane like their pants were on fire. Merchants and workers stopped what they were doing to watch them. Keelie noticed several gazing at the trees and shaking their heads. A woman in jeans and a tank top crossed herself and hurried into her shop.

“Huzzah, huzzah, the King is in his chamber and the Queen is in the privy, and what see we here, but a lovely little pretty,” sang three Merry Men dressed in green tunics and matching tights. They’d stopped and circled a woman wearing a bodice that made her bosom pop out of the top like two apples in a tiny fruit basket. She giggled as they crooned more disgusting lyrics and carefully tiptoed through the acorns, followed by the Merry Men. They, too, watched their footing among the nuts.

This Faire had more nuts than those strewn on the ground. Thank goodness she didn’t have to work with that bunch. Keelie planned to take it easy at this Faire.

She looked up at the Heartwood shop’s wooden sign, which had an oak tree with little heart-shaped acorns dangling from the branches. Maybe Dad chose this location so he could be a tree shepherd for the errant oaks. They looked like ordinary trees, but Keelie noticed the roots were gnarled like arthritic hands. Even without magic, a person could see wizened facial features in the knots and lumps on the trees’ trunks.

Next door to Dad’s shop, to Keelie’s delight, was a leather goods booth named Lady Annie’s Leather Creations. Curious, she went to explore. It wasn’t like she needed boots. She had her mother’s old pair, and a pair of everyday boots Janice had given her at the High Mountain Faire.

Lady Annie’s shop was ready for action, and the smell of freshly worked leather cut through the green of the crushed acorns outside. Keelie inhaled deeply. It reminded her of the smell of a new car, which in turn reminded her that she hadn’t had a single driving lesson. Then all thoughts of cars vanished as she caught sight of Lady Annie’s wares. Her mouth dropped open.

Awesome, designer Renaissance footwear filled the shelves—mainly incredible boots, hand tooled, with carved bone buttons all down the sides, in dozens of designs. A framed poster from the Lady Annie’s Boots catalog showed how they fit the wearer’s leg like a second skin. Keelie closed her mouth for fear she’d start drooling, and picked up the handwritten price tag on a gorgeous dark red pair trimmed in black. Her stomach bottomed out when she saw the price: nine hundred dollars.

Wait a minute. Her inner-California girl gave her a mental smack across the face. She’d been hanging around elf daddy, trees, and an obnoxious cat for way too long. This was custom footwear. Think designer prices. This she could go for, and they would work perfectly with the garb Janice and Raven had given her. Maybe this place was new and Raven didn’t know about it. She was all about leather. Keelie smiled as she recalled Raven’s spending spree at a leather shop in Colorado.

“Can I help you?” asked a young woman with tanned skin and long, straight black hair. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, she wore an absolutely stunning squash-blossom turquoise choker and a pair of Lady Annie boots with worked leather eagles on the sides. A little pin on her shirt read, “Lady Annie.”

“Do you make these boots?” Keelie asked.

“Yes, I’m Lady Annie, and every pair is leather-crafted by me or one of my family members.”

“Wow. I love your necklace, too. Are you Native American?” She’d met a Zuni woman who looked just like Lady Annie when she and Mom had taken a trip to Arizona

“I sure am. Navajo.” Lady Annie stared at Keelie. “You’re Zeke’s daughter aren’t you?”

Keelie nodded. “How did you know?”

“You look like him.” Her eyes glinted. Another of Dad’s conquests. “I met your father and your cat, yesterday.”

Okay, not an old Zeke girlfriend. Yet. “My cat must have made an impression.”

“He sure did. He knocked over a display of boots.” She smiled. Obviously a forgiving cat lover. “I just saw him across the street.”

Keelie turned around and saw Knot batting at some acorns on the ground. Stupid cat! She saw a
feithid daoine
, a bug fairy, buzzing nearby. It was shiny bronze and looked like a beetle if you didn’t look too closely. Knot didn’t have a good relationship with the bug fairies—his fault, since he loved to torment them. Not her problem. Knot could have the fairies, Dad could have the unruly trees, and Keelie could have new boots. The thought thrilled her. She breathed in and focused on the displays, trying to decide between the soaring hawk and the rearing unicorn emblems.

“If I were to design a pair of boots for you, I would have to suggest tree leaves, with hand-carved buttons shaped like acorns—sort of like these.” Lady Annie pulled out a really beautiful pair of boots, green, with tooled brown leaves climbing up the sides. The buttons were silver oak leaves.

“Those are gorgeous.” Keelie hoped she wasn’t actually drooling. In a nonchalant movement—a contemplating-a-purchase kind of gesture—Keelie checked for drool. Whew, none.

“If you want a pair, you need to place your order early. I can only make so many each Faire season.”