Into the Wildewood (6 page)

Keelie imagined the seamstress choking Elia with a roll of lace and smiled. “Who are you supposed to be? And working, too, I might add.” She would have added “Pointy Ear,” but she’d promised Dad that she wouldn’t give away the elven secret, no matter what the elf girls did. Besides, Elia would take it as a compliment.

“I’m the Princess of this Faire.” Elia flounced her silk skirts. “And it’s scarcely work. More like pleasure.”

Her little clones twittered like birdbrains.

“I play Princess Eleanor of Angouleme, Prince John’s betrothed.” She picked at her full skirts and preened.

Keelie was unimpressed. “What a boring job. You get to watch everyone else have fun. You don’t even get to ride a horse. I heard that Tarl the Muck and Mire man is playing Prince John. Isn’t that great?” She smiled inwardly, knowing exactly what vain and self-important Elia thought of Tarl.

Elia stamped her foot and swung around, accidentally clipping her elbow across the seamstress’ jaw. The seamstress shouted “Ow!” and dropped her scissors, which landed sharp-end-down in the toe of an elven girl’s slippered foot.

“You oaf, you’ve cut me!” the girl shrieked. She slipped out of her shoe, hitting one of the other elf girls in the chest with her flailing gestures. That really had to hurt, Keelie thought. The elf girl’s feet were narrow and white, and in dire need of a pedicure.

Another of the snooty crew nearly swooned when she saw the scissors. “You’re going to lose your foot.”

“Shut up, I am not!” the elf girl shouted back fearfully.

“Quiet down, girls. You sound like fishwives.” Finch glared at them. She had a sad-looking fuzzy purple suit with glittery scales draped over her left arm, and a bottle of Febreze in her hamlike fist.

With her free hand, she pulled the scissors out of the girl’s slipper and handed them to the red-cheeked seamstress. With every move, glitter from the costume’s scales rained on the floor.

Elia’s shoes got a liberal dose of it, and she wiped her shoe on the ottoman as if the glitter were dog poop.

“You need to fire her.” Elia parked her pale fists on her hips. “If she’s going around maiming people with scissors, then she shouldn’t be working in here. She’s a klutz, and I don’t want her near me. And while you’re at it, fire Keliel Heartwood. Wherever she goes she brings curses. See what just happened? It was her fault.”

The other girls started murmuring to each other, looking like an angry mini-mob of elven fashion divas.

Finch’s eyes flashed, and her lips pursed. “Princess, plug the cakehole!” Her last word echoed around the room.

The elf girls were stunned into silence.

Finch shoved the stinky dragon suit toward Keelie. “Here. Wear this, and wear lots of deodorant, because it’s going to be hot tomorrow. I’ve used an entire bottle of Febreze; that’s the best we can do.”

The red-headed elven girl wrinkled her nose. “Eww, that’s the suit that nasty Vernerd wore last year.”

One of the other elf girls backed away. “Verminous Vernerd was the squire who spread head lice around the jousters. He got demoted to dragon after that.”

Keelie stared at the deflated dragon suit.
Demoted
?
Lice
?

Elia plunked her hands on her hips again. “Then that suit could still be infected with lice.” She motioned with her hand. “Keep away from me, peasant girl.”

Finch growled. “Lice don’t live more than forty eight hours without a host, and I said plug the cakehole because if you don’t, you’re going to be Princess Whine-a-Lot in the pony-and-kid parade with Plumpkin, here.”

Two thoughts hit Keelie at once: Elia could be Princess Whine-a-Lot, which suited her; and Keelie was going to be in the pony-and-kid parade. Panic and laughter hit her at the same time. It sounded a little hysterical.

“Put on the dragon suit,” Finch commanded.

“Now?”

“Yes. We can’t wait for Halloween to get here.”

Keelie started to unbutton her La Jolie Rouge shirt, flashing back to the first day of gym in seventh grade. Laurie had been there for support when she and Keelie had stripped down to their underwear and bras. Keelie hadn’t had much in the way of cleavage then, and Laurie had yelled out at the girls who smirked, “What’ve you got in your bra? Toilet paper? Let’s see.”

Keelie had grown up and filled out since then. While she still didn’t have as much as Laurie in the boob department, she had more than Elia. And thank goodness she’d had a shower in Sir Davey’s RV this morning.

As the cold air hit her chest, one spot stayed warm. Keelie looked down at the wooden heart-shaped pendant that lay against her skin, soothing her with its magic.

Elia gasped.

Keelie looked up. The girls were gazing at her with wide eyes. One openly pointed at her and whispered to another.

“What?” Keelie asked, staring them down.

Elia’s eyes were narrowed. “You don’t deserve that.”

“You’re nuts.”

Elia stamped her foot. She almost hissed. “
I
should be wearing that pendant, and you know why,
Round Ear
.”

“I earned it. It was a gift. Get over it.” Keelie reached up to her throat, feeling suffocated. It was the talisman. She had to take it off, or it would choke her. She was about to unclasp it when she glanced over at Elia, who now wore an expectant grin.

Sir Davey had taught her to breathe deeply whenever she experienced any type of magical attack. Earth magic helped, too. Keelie knew what she needed—the rose quartz. She walked over to her jeans and grabbed the smooth rock from her pocket. Immediately, the choking feeling was gone.

Thwarted, Elia stamped her foot again.

Keelie glared at her. The little witch had tried to manipulate her with magic. Holding the rose quartz up, she wondered what it would do if she aimed it at Goldilocks. Maybe the elf girl would implode.

Finch walked in front of Keelie and blocked her view of Elia. But the formidable woman held the elf girl’s gaze. “Hey, you two, whatever damn issues you have between you, don’t bring them here, don’t bring it to the Faire, and don’t parade it in front of the mundanes, ’cause if you do, I’m going to kick your butts out of here and into Canada. Understand me?”

“Yes ma’am.” Keelie knew better than to say what she really thought.

Elia muttered something.

Finch held her hand to her ear. “Can’t hear you, Whine-a-Lot!”

Elia sighed. “Yes.”

Finch glared directly at Elia. “Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, let Mona finish up with your dress. Elianard will be here searching for you pretty soon. I’d rather not see him, and he’d rather not see me.”

Wondering if Finch might have been a pirate in a former life, Keelie put her feet into the Plumpkin suit and nearly hurled as she smelled what had to be eau de dried-up vomit. “Gross. What happened in here?”

“Nothing. The suit has been cleaned.” Finch leaned over and sniffed, then frowned and spritzed Keelie and the costume from her spray bottle. “Vernerd liked to party, and sometimes he didn’t get out of the suit in time. He was fond of beer and mead, but it didn’t like him. I’d hoped dry cleaning would get rid of the smell.” She sniffed again. “Seems the Febreze doesn’t work, either.”

“Can I wear the unicorn suit?” Keelie pointed. It was really cute and fluffy, sort of looked like the unicorn puppets Lulu had in her shop, something little girls would love to come up to and hug, whereas Plumpkin’s button eyes spun round and round in counterclockwise directions, making the dragon look like he’d been smoking crack.

“I wish.” Finch sighed. “We lost the bottom half to a disgruntled wench last year. She took off to be a showgirl, so it’s probably in Vegas with her. The purple dragon suit is what we’ve got, and the kiddies are expecting to see Plumpkin. You’re it. So, hold your nose and zip up.” If dragons could assume human form, Finch was one of them.

Elia and her elf gal pals had gathered together and were whispering to one another. The looks they were giving Keelie would’ve made even a dragon nervous.

After making sure the head fit, and handing her a script, Finch retreated to her office. Keelie dressed in her own clothes again. The Vernerd smell lingered.

Smelly costume in hand, Keelie left the building and walked past a small trail covered in pine mulch. This was the road that bordered the forest and led back to the campground. She could take the Plumpkin suit back to Sir Davey’s RV, or walk through the Faire and show Dad the stupid suit. Maybe he would have sympathy for his poor little girl, who had to wear a costume in which some former lice-infested idiot had puked his hung-over guts out. If Keelie ever met the disgruntled wench who’d stolen the bottom half of the unicorn costume, she would kick
her
butt into Canada. Great, now she was quoting Finch.

A shadow crossed the path and blocked out the sun. Keelie stopped, chills of anticipation dancing up her back.
Oh please, be the unicorn
!

The figure stepped out of the forest, still in the shadows. Keelie recoiled. It was Elianard, Elia’s elf-lord father.

six

Elianard stepped into the dappled sun of the path, dressed in luxurious robes embroidered with trees. His perma-sneer was plastered on his face.

The afternoon was eerily silent. The road between Admin and the food courts was usually busy, but she and Elianard were alone. Ol’ Sneer-a-nard didn’t intimidate Keelie, but if a yard gnome with sharp teeth and a red cap appeared with him, she’d bolt.

“I thought that after your last experience, you’d learned your lesson about following paths that lead you into the deep, dark woods, Keliel.” Elianard’s voice was deep, deeper than usual.

Keelie wondered if he’d taken villain voice lessons to make himself sound more menacing. It wasn’t working. He should ask for a refund.

“What do you want? Looking for a book you might have buried?” She suspected that Elianard had used a forbidden book of elven lore and magic to summon the evil Red Cap to Colorado. Both the book and the Red Cap had been annihilated, but with the book destroyed, there had been no proof of Elianard’s involvement.

The Plumpkin suit was getting heavy. Keelie tossed it to her other arm, its eyes rattling.

“Never speak to me in that tone—” Elianard sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “What is that smell?”

“You?” Keelie replied. She wasn’t about to admit that her costume stank.

“Impudent child.” Elianard scowled. “Let me give you some advice. Stay out of the woods. It’s not a place for half-breeds.” His brows furrowed as he leaned toward her and sniffed again.

“Yeah right. The trees talk to me. I’m a tree shepherd, remember?” Of course, her father had forbidden her to enter the forest, too, but he didn’t need to know that.

Elianard wrinkled his brow as he studied the purple dragon suit she held in her arms. Glitter sprinkled the ground around her. “You’re a freak of nature. In the old days, we would’ve left something like you on a mountainside and let you die of exposure.”

“That explains why the elven race thrives in such large numbers,” Keelie answered. “You killed off your best ones.”

He ignored her jibe. “At least our bloodline is pure, or rather, it is if we ignore your existence.”

Keelie didn’t have to stay here talking to this creep. She tried to move her foot to walk away, but she couldn’t. It was as if her legs were encased in invisible concrete and wrapped in chains. She glanced at Elianard, who smiled back at her.

“I haven’t finished speaking to you,” he said. “Do not go into the woods. If you do, people near and dear to you may be harmed.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“No. I’m suggesting that if you do enter the woods and interfere, then the consequences will be felt by anyone associated with you.”

“What do you mean, interfere? With what?” As she spoke, instinct guided Keelie. She had to use the rose quartz to break the magic Elianard was using to bind her in place.

She tossed the costume over her shoulder, reached into her jeans pocket for her protective rock, and pulled it out. She held out her clenched fist to break the spell. Nothing happened. Not the reaction she’d expected.

Elianard’s eyes narrowed. “Earth magic will not stop me. Do you think that your little quartz will chase me away, like garlic to a vampire?” He laughed. “Of course, that won’t work either. Ask your father.”

“Ask me what? I have warned you, Elianard, to stay away from my daughter.”

“Dad!” Keelie’s knees were watery with relief, or maybe it was the breaking of the spell, because suddenly it was as if her legs had been freed from the invisible concrete and chains. She stepped back to regain her balance.

Elianard walked away.

Dad frowned. “The idiot! He’s getting more and more careless. Stay away from him.”

“I did. I was minding my own business and he stopped me.”

“I want you to stay in the Faire. Stay out of the woods.”

“He said the same thing. Does this have to do with the unicorn?” Concern for the unicorn, along with a sense of protection, washed over Keelie. If Elianard harmed one hair on it, she’d …

She didn’t know what she would do, but she’d do something. She’d protect the unicorn. She didn’t want another creature hurt because of Elianard or Elia, the way Ariel had been. For once, Keelie was glad the hawk was in Pennsylvania and not here in the Wildewood.

“Maybe. Elianard’s magic seems stronger.” Zeke frowned, and his thoughts suddenly seemed far away. “Unicorns are very powerful in their own right.”

Keelie shuddered, remembering the glowing horn she’d glimpsed that night and Elianard’s comments about pure bloodlines. What kind of magic would it take to hurt a unicorn? Dad was right. Elianard
was
an idiot.

“Where’s Knot? He’s supposed to be with you at all times.” Her father peered into the bushes, as if Knot had disguised himself as a shrub.

“I dunno. Maybe he went to check out the pubs.”

Dad glowered toward the woods. “I’ll find him, and when I do he has a lot of explaining to do.”

Keelie rubbed her temple.

Dad wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”