Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,26
out a squeal and pointed. Keelie jumped, wondering if Bloodroot had appeared in the kitchen. Knot’s head ducked back into the bedroom.
“It’s Knotsie! Oh, I’d hoped he was here.” Risa jumped up, almost knocking over her chair, and dashed around the end of the table. Norzan watched with his mouth hanging open as she ran into the bedroom in hot pursuit of Knot.
“Oh, my sweet woods and dales,” the tree shepherd said. “How unfortunate.”
“Tell me about it.” But now it was Knot’s problem. Keelie pulled Risa’s pancakes toward her and drowned them in syrup. It was going to be another long day and she may as well fuel up.
“Grandmother, I have some questions about last night. First of all, why did Bella Matera try to put me to sleep last night? Didn’t she want me at the ceremony?”
“Nonsense, child. She was being kind.”
Keelie remembered the tree touching her face, and then the beautiful music and the dreams about the stars. She’d had her mental guards up to protect herself from the tree probing her thoughts, but a tree using magic to put her to sleep was something new. Although it didn’t seem like magic, just beautiful images. She wondered if the zombie humans had seen something like that.
“What kind of magic would bespell a crowd of humans?” Keelie needed to know more. Even though Grandmother said that Bella Matera’s motives were kind ones, Keelie was guarded. “It seems like a dangerous kind of magic.”
“No elf magic would do such a thing,” Grandmother admitted. “Perhaps Viran had access to fae glamour. He’s left a lot of mysteries behind.”
The back door opened by itself and an orange streak ran out, followed by Risa.
“Gee, I hope she doesn’t fall out of the tree,” Keelie said. Not.
After a while Knot returned alone, mumbling in a low meow. He looked like a furry porcupine, his fur sticking out in demonic cowlicks, and he smelled like lotion.
“What happened to him?” Grandmother watched as Knot trotted on through to the living room.
Keelie ran a hand through her own tangled hair. “Whatever happened, serves him right.” She spoke super loud so the cat could hear her. A loud purr answered her.
“Bloodroot.” Keelie contemplated the sound of the name for a few seconds. “Sounds like a tree starring in a horror movie.” Looked like one, too.
“Keelie, you must always treat the redwoods with the greatest of honor,” Grandmother said, her voice low and her expression shocked. “They’re like the ancient sages of the woodland world. They deserve the utmost respect.”
“You must be cautious, as well. They are very powerful.” Norzan looked at Grandmother as if he would say more, but glanced at Sariela and turned his attention back to his pancakes.
“Finish your breakfast. We need to be at the festival. The Lord Mayor is going to introduce us to the festival players.” Grandmother sniffed. “Although I don’t know why he feels it is necessary for us to associate with them.” Grandmother was sounding more like herself. Keelie didn’t know whether to be relieved or to run.
At the shop, the rest of the furniture had been unpacked and the elven jousters were loitering around. Sean was looking very handsome and commanding in a braided leather jerkin that was trimmed in the silver and blue of his jousting troop. He also sported snug leather breeches and tall boots, and looked very much the elven knight.
Keelie thought again of how much Sean had changed since his father had been punished for using dark magic in the Dread Forest. He was more confident in his role with the Silver Bough Jousting Company, whose leadership he’d now assumed. He’d trained hard and long with the other jousters over the winter, while she’d had her head crammed with elven lore from Elianard. They’d had no time for each other—until now.
Sean smiled at her, crossing his arms over his chest as she walked up to him. The other jousters stood behind him as if waiting for her command. They all looked at her with respect. Maybe they were following Sean’s lead. Since restoring the Dread in the Dread forest, Keelie’s status as the half-elf daughter of Zekeliel Heartwood had been accepted.
“Lord Sean.” Keelie arched an eyebrow, hoping she looked calm and collected. Just looking at him reminded her of the kiss they’d shared, and she was glad she’d remembered to apply deodorant; otherwise, sweat stains would be popping out on the armpits of the white