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.
twenty
Once Keelie emerged from her telepathic communication link with Tavyn, she dropped onto a nearby bench to steady herself. Her head ached even more than from her earlier contact with Hrok. She glanced up at the position of the sun. She had about four hours before Tavyn’s threat would come to pass.
It was eerily quiet. There were no birds singing, and the trees were silent. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Could goblins be lurking and watching her every move and reporting back to Tavyn? She fought the urge to flee back into the Admin office.
Something warm and hairy rubbed up against her leg. Keelie jumped up from the rock.
Knot, back to normal-cat size, rubbed his face against her leg as the familiar tree greenness formed in her mind. She recognized the essence: Hrok.
Daughter of the Forest. You seemed distressed. Melankin’s request seems reasonable. He explained to me he merely wants to read this book. Yet fear flows through you. Why are you so afraid of him?
How did she explain this to Hrok?
I don’t think Melankin is as nice as he’s making himself out to be. I think he has a shadowy-bark side.
He seems very nice to us.
Keelie didn’t have time to debate the situation with Hrok. She had to report to Finch.
Be careful around Melankin. He’s not what he seems. His rings are stained with treachery and betrayal. Hrok, can you sense my father?
This conversation puzzles me, Daughter of the Forest. As to sensing your father, I do not. In fact, I think he has left the area.
I need to see him. It’s an emergency.
I am sorry. Still, I do not sense his presence. Let me ask the trees within the elven camp.
Their connection thinned and became a wispy green thread as he consulted the rest of the forest. Then it flared back to life.
The little cedars at Heartwood would like for me to tell you that they saw your friend Hob. It looked as if he was making magic with a book.
Keelie’s heart raced. A big green book?
Yes, milady.
Keelie’s knees felt rubbery and she leaned against a fence post (cedar, from Washington State). The Compendium wasn’t lost after all. But Hob was Peascod, and he had the Compendium. Perhaps he’d set the fire so he could steal it, but why? Her head reeled. Was he going to give it to Tavyn?
“Meow what’s wrong?” Knot swished his tail as he waited patiently down at her feet. He hadn’t left her side.
“The Compendium didn’t burn, but Peascod has it.”
Knot placed his paw on her leg. “Meow will help you get it back, meow.”
Love for the fairy cat flowed through her, but she wouldn’t ruin their relationship by telling him.
“Whatever happens, thank you, Knot.”
He lifted his head, eyes dilated. “Meow why thank meow?”
“Because you’re a good guardian.”
Knot turned his head. His ears tilted forward. Keelie thought she heard a sniff, sniff. But she didn’t push the cat. Sentimentalism wasn’t his style.
What should she do next? She tried reaching out to Dad but she couldn’t reach him; her head was all fuzzy with green energy.
She had to get the Compendium back. Maybe Elianard would help her once he found out it hadn’t been destroyed. He might already have left for the Dread Forest, but she could use one of the elven cell phones that used tree magic to call him. Dad had his, but maybe one was left behind in the elven village.
“Knot, go tell Finch what we’ve learned. I’m going to the elven village.”
The cat meowed agreement and dashed up the Admin building’s steps as Keelie clutched her rose quartz and ran down the path toward Water Sprite Lane, keeping an eye out for any remaining elves. The strong wallop of Dread hit her as she approached the woods, but she breathed in and pushed on, breaking through the Dread spell as she entered the village.
The streets were empty, but she heard the whinny of horses. A huge pickup truck and horse trailer were parked by the meeting hall, the trailer marked with the logo of the Silver Bough Jousting Company. Keelie almost gasped with relief that the village wasn’t totally empty.
Two jousters appeared, leading their tall, muscular horses. Then her heart raced as she heard Sean’s voice shouting out orders.
He appeared from behind the trailer. “Bromliel, do we have enough hay in the back?”
Keelie stepped toward him. Did she still love him, or was this just her body reacting out of memory?
Sean noticed her and stared disbelievingly. “Keelie?” He rushed toward her. “You’re going with us.” A statement-not a command, nor a request. His voice was happy, reminding her of the old Sean, the one who loved her. “You can ride with me in the truck.”
Part of Keelie wished she could hop into that truck and be the girl he wanted her to be, but she knew she couldn’t.
“Sean, I didn’t come to see you. I need to speak to Elianard. It’s urgent. Do you have an elven cell phone I can use?”
“And why would you need to speak with the Lore Master, if not to make travel arrangements?” a familiar voice grated.
“Lord Niriel.” Keelie bowed her head to him. She was the daughter of the Lord of the Dread Forest and she would act accordingly. She would be respectful to Niriel for her father’s sake, although she wanted to throw a mudball at the haughty, pinched-faced elf traitor.
He bowed his head in return. Dressed in the richly embroidered robes that reflected his high-ranking Council position, he seemed like a character from a fairy tale. The evil vizier, perhaps.
“I need to speak to Elianard about the Compendium,” Keelie said curtly. Time was growing short.
“It’s too late for apologies. Didn’t you destroy our most valued treasure? Have you come to grovel for forgiveness?” A puzzled expression crossed Niriel’s face, as if he was pondering a riddle. The horses in the trailer stomped their hooves on the metal floor. They were growing impatient, as if they sensed danger looming near.
“I thought I heard my name,” Elianard said as he walked up to them. He wore a green linen tunic with long flowing sleeves, the edges appliqued with silver oak leaves.
“You’re still here!” Keelie rushed to him, leaving Lord Niriel open-mouthed at her lack of manners.
“Keelie, why are you here?” Elianard frowned. “You are still forbidden to enter the village.”
“I need your help in finding the Compendium. It wasn’t destroyed-Peascod has it.”