Shadows of the Redwood (6 page)

Grandmother shook her head and touched a crystal to shift into gear. “Thank you, Tavyn. We’ll find our way through the forest.”

“Yes, milady.” Tavyn leaned over and waved. “I’ll see you in the village, Lady Keliel.”

“Just call me Keelie.”

Knot’s purring ceased and he was about to sink his claws back into her leg, but Keelie was ready for him. She grabbed his paw. He lifted his big orange head and looked at her with dilated eyes. His ears flattened against his skull. Keelie knew that look. She dropped his paw. “No more. I only have one box of bandage strips with me.”

Knot kneaded the upholstery on the truck seat.

Keelie had learned from Zabrina that even though Knot was a fairy, even the fae thought he was unusual. Keelie thought it was a nice way of saying weird. As if picking up on her thoughts, Knot’s purr grew louder.

“Whatever.” Keelie scooted closer to the door.

The truck reached a crossroads, little more than two deer trails crossing, and Grandmother turned right. Keelie suddenly felt a tingled warning to not go down this road. “Stop!”

Grandmother stomped on the brake. “What’s the matter?”

“This feels bad to me. We should go left.”

The older woman sighed. “Look deeper, Keelie.”

Keelie lowered her defenses a bit and immediately realized that she was feeling the human-deflecting charm. “Oops.”

Grandmother accelerated and turned to the right. “I don’t see how they keep humans out. One of my recommendations will be to use the Dread, full blast.”

“Still, I think it would be creepy to live out here.” Keelie grabbed the truck’s door frame to keep from getting jostled.

“The old trees definitely have a presence, and the elves have learned to live with their power. Look at that tree. Look at the circumference of its trunk.” Grandmother sighed. “I remember when this land was covered with trees, before the logging. Even in the Dread Forest, we could hear their death cries. Now, to see so few of the Ancient Ones left breaks my heart. I really wish there was a way to time-travel to the past and relive the happiest days of my life.”

Keelie straightened. “I understand how you feel.” She thought about the letter and wished she could time-travel back to when Mom was alive, to take back the things she said to her before her mother got on the doomed plane.

Blinking back tears, Keelie looked out at the giant redwoods rising to the night sky, majestic and ancient. She couldn’t bear to think of these regal trees being logged, especially without a Tree Lorem. She remembered the old ghost forest in the Wildewood, the shades of trees that didn’t know they were gone. Shivering, Keelie realized how cold it seemed in the cab of the truck.

Knot hissed.

Keelie asked, “What is your …”

A sharp pain shot through her, a flash of red slicing through her brain, obliterating her magical shield. The tree magic and the fairy magic, threaded closely together within her, began to separate like the rings of a tree being split apart on a cellular level.

Keelie shrieked and grabbed her head.

Grandmother slammed on the brakes. “Keelie, what’s wrong?”

As quickly as it had happened, the excruciating pain was gone—the redness, and that sense of being torn apart down to her molecules.

Keelie let her head drop back against the headrest, trying to breathe away the remnants of the pain. She rolled her head toward Grandmother, whose pale face was close, her green eyes wide with worry. She struggled to take a breath, then made herself relax, her hand clenched around the rose quartz charm that dangled from one of her belt loops.

“It’s the trees,” Keelie gasped. “The redwoods tried to kill me.”

Grandmother scoffed. “You’re exaggerating. But you feel it strongly, don’t you?”

Keelie pressed her palms to her temples. “It’s like a black mark on the magic. It feels sick, like a spot along the edge of the tree magic.”

The older elf’s bright green gaze was fixed on her. “What do you think it is?”

“You tell me. You’re keeping secrets. What is it?” Keelie leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the window, relieved that the pain had eased.

Grandmother stopped the truck, shoving the gearshift into park so that they all were propelled forward.

Instantly, the headache was back.

“You’re right.” Grandmother stared directly out the windshield.

Okay, Keelie hadn’t expected her to agree so quickly. Her headache faded. “What’s going on?”

“The Redwood Tree Shepherd sent me a message before the call went out to find him.” Grandmother looked at Keelie intently, as if she knew Keelie would understand some kind of secret message in her words.

“You mean he asked you for help before he disappeared? Why didn’t you tell Dad?”

“Viran was afraid. You have to understand that Viran is not the fearful sort. He’s a steady man, and he values the trees above all. He’s been shepherd to the redwoods for almost four hundred years.”

“Four hundred years ago the only humans here were the Native Americans, right?”

“That is correct.”

“So maybe he’s just afraid of change. Too many humans or something. He doesn’t like the tourists.”

“He’s seen more change than many others, Keelie. He said he feared something … dark.”

Keelie’s stomach sank. Dark. There had been too much dark in her life. What was she, a magnet for the evil gremmies of the world? Redcaps, dark magic books, unicorn killers, vampires, what next? Maybe she’d better not ask.

“There’s more, and it may be connected. Soon there will be a gathering of elves in the Northwoods, where strange things are also happening.”

“The Northwoods are in Canada, right?” Elia had said that her mother was from the Northwoods. “So the elves there are organizing?”

Grandmother nodded. “It’s unprecedented for the clans to work together.”

“Then it’s a good thing. More communication. So when did the Redwood Tree Shepherd contact you?”

Sheepishly, Grandmother gave a little half smile, which was very creepy. “To answer your questions in the order you asked them—Viran contacted me because he knew your grandfather, Zaros. He sent for him.” Keelie had a vision of an elven Father Time with a long white beard and long white hair. Zaros, her grandfather, had died (or, as the elves said, faded) a century ago.

Yet Keelie sensed there was more that Grandmother wasn’t telling her. Maybe having Dad take over as the leader of the Dread Forest had left Grandmother without a job. Some people didn’t adjust too well to retirement.

Grandmother reached down to turn the key. Keelie quickly removed it from the ignition. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on. I want to know what is really happening in the forest. Tell me everything you know, and until you do, we don’t go.” Keelie dangled the key from her hand.

Anger flashed in Grandmother’s eyes. “You’re so human sometimes.”

“Thanks for not calling me a brat, but back to the subject at hand.”

Knot climbed into Grandmother’s lap and curled up in a ball.

Grandmother’s brow wrinkled in disgust and she pushed the cat away. Knot landed on the floor of the truck with a thump and returned to Keelie’s side, satisfied. Annoyed elf: mission accomplished.

“If you must hear it, I’ll tell you now, before we get to the village,” Grandmother said. “Viran, the Redwood Tree Shepherd, has been here for hundreds of years. When the logging began he tried to stop it, but he was too trusting. He thought that the loggers would hear his plea for the forest with compassion. Instead, he was arrested by the sheriff for disturbing the peace. A small charge, but they kept him locked away while the forest, unprotected, was logged.” Grandmother looked out of the window toward the untouched wilderness outside. “The redwood elves discovered that they could only release him by going through the human courts, and thus learned about the importance of integrating themselves into the human world. They helped establish the forest service, and were able to work undisturbed. John Muir stayed with them for a while.”

“John Muir? The man who’s responsible for the start of the first national parks?”

“Yes. Meanwhile, Viran returned to the Redwood Forest, where he performed a Tree Lorem for each and every tree that was felled. The redwood elves then used magic to sequester part of the forest, hiding it from humans, and that is where the village is located. Viran recovered eventually, but the damage to the forest injured him gravely. He is Lord of the Forest, and you know what that means.”

Keelie understood. Grandmother had once been Lady of the Dread Forest. When the Dread had failed last fall and humans had encroached on the forest, the trees were in danger and Grandmother had sickened. Keelie’s dad had stepped in, taking on the soul of the forest so that his mother could heal, and only when Keelie and Alora restored the Dread did Grandmother recover. Dad was still Lord of the Forest, and Keelie had assumed that Grandmother was enjoying her new freedom.

“Viran spent many a year up in the treetops,” Grandmother continued. “In all weather and even during fires, he stayed with the trees and became more and more like them. Even now he rarely touches the ground.”

“Why did he want to contact Zaros?”

“He said the trees were acting strangely.”

“It always starts with the trees acting differently.” Keelie resisted rolling her eyes.

“He didn’t tell me any more, other than he wanted to know how to expand and strengthen the Dread, and that he feared a dark presence. And now he’s gone and no one can find him, not even the trees.”

Keelie shuddered. She turned to her grandmother. Their eyes met. “I can’t save a forest again. It took too much out of me.”

“I don’t think you’re going to be the one to strengthen the Dread. Viran wants to know how to do it.”

The tightness that had squeezed Keelie’s ribs relaxed. She’d help Viran as much as she could. She wondered what he looked like, especially if he hadn’t left the treetops in hundreds of years.

Grandmother stretched a hand out for the key. “Well, we’re here. And we’re committed to the festival for the next three weeks.”

Keelie handed the truck keys over reluctantly.

Cranking the truck back up, Grandmother seemed almost jovial. She patted Keelie on the shoulder. “I don’t think helping the Redwood Tree Shepherd will take that much time or energy.”

Foreboding wrapped itself around Keelie like a shroud. This was not what she had planned.

Grandmother had told Dad that she would handle the forest and the missing tree shepherd, but it felt like she had dumped this magical chore on Keelie’s lap. Keelie had just wanted an opportunity to relax and run the shop, and to say goodbye to Mom’s house. How did one find a missing tree shepherd anyway, when even the trees couldn’t find him? She had a mental image of Viran hiding out on the beach. After four hundred years, a dude needed a vacation.

A few moments later, Grandmother drove up to a tiny, beat-up cabin of weathered logs. Keelie couldn’t believe that anyone lived here, and she hoped it wouldn’t be their home in the elven village.

“Don’t dawdle.” Grandmother hopped out and quickly walked to the dilapidated door. As her grandmother disappeared into the cabin, resolve steeled Keelie’s spine. No way would she use dark magic. She’d felt its presence strongly tonight, even if Grandmother thought she was exaggerating. She had to set boundaries, or else she’d turn into some kind of magical ATM, dispensing energy upon demand. She could relate to the missing tree shepherd and why he might want to ditch his job. Trees, elves, need, need, need. It never stopped.

Keelie stomped across the path and entered the cabin, pushing the door open with a dramatic shove. “We need to talk—”

She stopped.

A tall, silver-haired elf turned to her. He was standing close to Grandmother, holding her hand. He wore robes like Lord Elianard’s, but there the resemblance to the stuck-up Lore Master ended. Elianard never smiled. It was disconcerting to see this elegant look-alike beam at her. The silver-haired elf bowed his head toward Keelie.

She managed to slightly tilt hers. Grandmother dropped his hand and stepped away.

This elf’s eyes were an icy blue, not woodland green. Keelie had never met an elf with Siberian Husky eyes.

Grandmother cleared her throat. “Keelie, this is Norzan. He is Tree Shepherd of the Northwoods.”

“Tree Shepherd of the Northwoods? You’re far from your home.” Keelie sat down on a dusty, plump-cushioned sofa.

Norzan raised his eyebrows and looked at Grandmother, asking a silent question.

“What’s going on?” Keelie looked to Norzan for the answer. Grandmother was dropping tiny clues like crumbs in a forest. Aggravating.

Norzan sat down on the sofa next to Keelie. “This must be overwhelming for you, especially coming into this without any knowledge of the situation.”

Keelie was warming to him. “You’ve got that right.” He was talking to her like Sir Davey would. She hoped Grandmother would catch on and treat her like an adult, and with a little kindness. Grandmother would do great in the Northwoods. She was the original Ice Queen.

“The redwood elves summoned help a week ago. Their Council leader, Kalix, sent a request to our leader. As you know, Keelie, things are not well with the Earth. So far, the Redwood Forest has been immune to the changes. Frankly, the fact that the trees themselves cannot find the shepherd tells me that things are more serious than anyone thought. The boundaries between the magical worlds are breaking, and there are those on the dark side wishing to grab power for themselves.”

“You think someone took the Redwood Tree Shepherd?”

“We don’t know.” Grandmother interjected. “The redwoods do not know where he is.”

“We can only hope that no dark force is at hand,” Norzan said. “Even in the Northwoods, where the boundaries are strongly and magically protected, there is a break between worlds—human, elf, and fairy. But we have always met peacefully, every year, at the Quicksilver Faire. I want to work quickly here and return to my forest before the Faire begins.”

“I think you’re right, and whatever’s out there is very strong,” Keelie said. Her head still throbbed from the aftershocks of that psychic attack, whatever it had been. “So what are you guys planning to do about it?”

Silence.

She didn’t like the way they were watching her. “Wait a minute. If some dark magical force is kidnapping tree shepherds, why are you here? Aren’t you in danger?” Panic rushed through her. “Are we in danger?”

“We don’t know,” Norzan said. “That is why we must work together, forming a strong bond of magic to protect ourselves.”

“We elves can no longer live apart, isolated from one another,” Grandmother added. “To my deep regret, I am guilty of separating the Dread Forest from the other clans. We must join forces for all of our sakes.”

“And Keelie will be protected at all times,” a very deep and beautiful male voice said. A tall elven man walked into the room. His long hair flowed free and loose, which looked odd with the park ranger uniform that he wore. He was followed by Tavyn, the handsome young elf who had been at the ranger booth earlier. Keelie sensed a grounding about these elves, a feeling that was familiar about them, but she couldn’t tell what it was.