Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,23

Keelie picked up on the “thee’s” and “thou’s.” What would they think of the elves showing up to chat with a bunch of tree spirits? She wasn’t sure the actors could even see anything, and if they did, they’d probably think it was the mist coming in from the ocean.

Bella Matera appeared, spiraling out of the mist until she was in her pseudo-human form. Her branches looked like real arms, and her hair seemed to be made of leaves.

Other tree spirits appeared and swirled around them. Bella waved her arms in greeting, like a goddess welcoming worshipers. The trees’ powerful energy pressed on Keelie’s mind, making her head pound. She felt for her rose quartz and pulled on more Earth energy to block them. Grandmother stood close to Keelie, protectively.

Norzan joined them. “This is strange indeed. Even in the lore of tree shepherds, this has never been seen.” His voice was cautious but held undertones of wonder.

Surprised, Keelie turned to the Northwoods tree shepherd. “I thought you, of all elves, would know about this.”

He shook his head. “Each forest has its own culture and secrets.” He pointed his staff toward the tree spirits. “Keelie, now I am certain that all is not as it should be in the Redwood Forest.”

“I agree.” Grandmother tilted her head upwards and then to the side as a face formed in one of the ephemeral tree shapes.

Greetings, Shepherds.

Goose bumps dotted Keelie’s arms as a menacing premonition prickled her mind.

As if on cue, the creepy jester wearing the red and green harlequin suit stepped onto center stage. Was he the flash of red and green she’d seen near the beach? Keelie wondered how he’d gotten back here so quickly, if so. With his jangly hat perched at an angle on his head, the jester looked like something you’d see at a medieval circus. He was engaging in a dangerous, Tony Soprano kind of way. All eyes in the theater were riveted on him as he spoke Puck’s lines in a hypnotic voice.

“That’s Peascod.”

Keelie looked up. It was Bella, who was floating above them and pointing toward the stage. “We enjoy his performances and find them inspiring, but sadly we must end tonight’s entertainment to prepare for our Lord Bloodroot.”

Norzan cut his eyes over to Keelie. Something in his expression told her to be careful.

Bella must have sensed the tension in the air. “Come now, tree shepherds, our shifting can’t be that alien to you. Why, Keelie alone is strong enough.”

“Milady, I have to be honest. I find it disconcerting.” Norzan leaned on his staff. “Viran never revealed this particular talent you possess.”

Bella gave a gossamer laugh, light and airy. “My dear Northwoods Shepherd, we’d hoped you’d find our way enlightening. Although our beloved shepherd is missing, something good has come from our misfortunes. We have met you, and the Ladies Keliatiel and Keliel. We look forward to an exchange of culture and magic.”

Norzan nodded, but his bright blue eyes were shadowed. “What do you hope to gain in such an exchange?”

“It may be your gain. I’m sure your trees in the Northwoods can’t do this.” She gestured. “Nor this.” Bella waved her hand once more and the air around them grew heavy, as if green condensation hovered, thickening the atmosphere. Then the air lightened and the wetness evaporated.

All of the actors became silent, their faces vacant. The directors and crew also stood there, motionless and quiet.

Master Oswald suddenly stood up, jerkily. Keelie thought he’d shaken off the spell, but then he waved his paper, his hand flapping like a puppet’s. “Good gentles and ladies, our play is over. Now.” He left the stage, staggering a little as he went down the stairs to the open pit of the dirt floor.

The other actors began to follow him, silently lining up without jostling, like zombies leaving a baseball game.

Keelie walked down the ramp, toward the stage, looking into the players’ faces as they passed her. They were all somewhere else. She tried standing in front of one of the women, but the woman just stepped sideways and continued on as if Keelie had been a wall or a piece of furniture. No eye contact, no focus, no life. It horrified Keelie that trees could do this. But according to Bella Matera, they did it all the time.

The weird jester dude who played Puck was coming toward her. Again, he made Keelie feel uneasy. As he passed, his eyes flicked toward her and she caught a sinister glint in