Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,27

poet’s blouse she’d tossed on over her tank top. Keelie knew she looked Ren Faire chic.

A current of energy arced between them as they stared at one another. It was growing stronger, that something they felt for one another. She didn’t want to name it with that word, that word that started with an “L,” but it shone from Sean’s eyes. She wanted Sean to take her away from here, to be somewhere far away, just the two of them, Sean and Keelie, without roles and responsibilities clinging to them. Keelie could only dream of what would happen then.

A loud purr floated up from her feet, and then Knot rubbed up against her leg. Next would be the sinking of claws into the leather of her boots. She lifted him up with the toe of her boot. His purring increased. She tossed him off her foot. He landed on all fours and gave her his kitty smile.

How did Knot do it? He always showed up at the moments he was least wanted. Moodbuster.

Sean didn’t look down at Knot, but the cat’s purring indicated the moment of simply Sean and Keelie was over. He was leader of the Silver Bough Jousting Company and she was the tree shepherdess, daughter of the leader of the Dread Forest elves.

“Milady, your realm is ready for final inspection.” Sean waved toward the shop. “My men unpacked the rest of your boxes.”

“Thank you, Lord Sean.” She was touched.

“This is wonderful. Thank you so much.” Grandmother had arrived, with Scott close behind her.

“Looks good. You can come work for me anytime.” Scott slowly rotated in place as he studied the shop.

Sean stiffened, and then bowed his head to Grandmother. “I was glad to help, Lady Keliatiel.”

“Thank you.” Grandmother said graciously. Her cheeks were pink with pleasure as she looked around the shop.

Scott stood next to Sean and put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. He nodded with appreciation. “If this jousting gig doesn’t work out for you, I think you have a future in Ren Faire

retail.”

Sean shrugged Scott’s hand away. “If the woodworking doesn’t work out, come to the jousting ring. We always have a need for squires.”

Sean walked away from him and stopped in front of Keelie. He took her hands in his. They were rougher, not as soft as they had been the last time she’d held them. “I’ll be practicing this afternoon. I would be delighted to see you at the ring, if you can make it. Come watch us practice.”

“Keelie is busy today,” Grandmother interjected.

Keelie wanted to kick her grandmother’s shins.

“Then I will see you another time.” Sean released Keelie’s hand.

Her heart panged. She couldn’t let him walk away. “Come to dinner tonight.”

Sean turned and walked backwards, smiling. “I will.”

“Keelie, you didn’t clear that with me.” Grandmother’s tone sounded shocked.

Keelie tore her gaze away from Sean’s retreating figure. “I just felt like it was the right thing to do.”

“What are you having for dinner?” Scott asked. “I really get tired of macaroni and cheese. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”

Grandmother looked at Scott and a smile appeared on her face. “Why don’t you join us? We’re having an early dinner at the Queen’s Alehouse.”

Keelie whirled around to protest.

“Thanks, I will.” Scott grinned. “Not home-cooked, but the company will make up for it.”

Keelie was about to retort, but a sudden darkness filled her. It was like being in the sunlight and then having a storm cloud obliterate the light. She tried to control her breathing, to stop her anxiety as the power filled her. She’d felt this when she’d opened the dark book of fairy magic to heal Ariel. The magic had poured upward, into her.

She stood still and called upon her tree magic, envisioning her feet like roots seeking the nourishing soil of the earth to steady herself. Coolness wrapped her mind, quelling the anxiety.

A loud jangling rent the air. The noise sounded like bells, but horrible, grim bells that made you want to gnash your teeth. She’d heard that noise before. Peascod was somewhere near. What was it with that jester?

The back of her neck itched and she scratched as Grandmother covered her ears, a pained look on her face.

“What a horrible sound,” Grandmother said.

“It’s Peascod the jester.” Keelie put her fingers in her ears. Other shopkeepers were stepping out of their buildings, shaking their heads and looking for the origins of the irritating noise.

Scott scowled. “Not him again. Whatever you do, don’t make him mad, because he