Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,4

tell me, I’ll go find Dad. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bring me back some twinkles,” Alora called.

“Right. You’re already wearing my entire jewelry box.”

It was truly weird that her best friend was a tree, and that when she wanted a pair of earrings she had to climb up and dig them out of a branch. Good thing there weren’t any magpies in the forest, or her jewelry would be scattered all over Oregon.

Keelie headed back toward the house, wondering where her dad could be at this time of day. With the Ren Faire season coming up, she thought he might be in his woodshop, and sure enough, that’s where she found him, finishing up an armchair made of bent willow twigs.

Her dad was wearing a long tunic of fine golden linen, no doubt a gift from one of the elven ladies who followed him around just as human women did at the Ren Faires. Dad was a chick magnet. At least they’d held off a little when she and Dad had first moved back to the Dread Forest; they probably were disconcerted to find him with a teenaged daughter.

“Keelie, right on time. Give me a hand with this.” He gave her a cloth and put a bowl of lemon oil polish between them. Keelie dipped the cloth in the oil and started to rub it into the chair while Dad worked on the other side. She pushed away the vision of the shallow stream and dappled forest which came to her as her fingers touched the willow’s wood.

“I got a letter from Talbot and Talbot today, Dad.”

“Really? Tax stuff?”

“No, they sold Mom’s house in Hancock Park.”

“Oh, good. Took long enough.” Dad scraped at a blemish in the wood with his fingernail.

Keelie bit her lip.

Dad straightened. “I know the house meant a lot to you, but it couldn’t sit empty waiting for you. Someday, if you want it again, you can find the owners and make them an offer. It won’t be gone forever.” He opened his arms and swept her into a hug. “Home is not a house.”

Keelie hugged him back, loving the feel of his strength. When Dad had taken her in when Mom died, he’d loved her unconditionally, and Keelie suddenly realized that she was making a big deal out of the house sale. But there was little of her mother in the Dread Forest, and Keelie wanted to feel surrounded by her mother’s presence one more time. Somehow, she had to get to Los Angeles.

“Alora said you had something to tell me.”

Dad stopped rubbing polish into the wood and straightened. “I do. I, too, have received an important message. Viran, the tree shepherd of the Redwood Forest, is missing. A few of the strongest shepherds are gathering there to help find him. The Redwood Forest is the oldest of the new world’s forests, and the shepherd of the sequoias must be very strong, for the trees are so old that their power could drive a weak one mad. We fear for Viran. No one has seen him in weeks.”

“Why don’t you ask the trees where he is?”

“Good point. But the trees don’t know, either. Or they aren’t telling.”

“What do you mean, not telling? Trees don’t lie.”

Dad looked grim. “I said the forest is very powerful. Do you know how the trees here can show their faces, and sometimes root walk?”

Keelie nodded. She saw the trees’ faces all the time, and root walking was something she’d seen for herself in the Wildewood Forest, and not in a good way. Trees had dragged their roots out of the ground and moved around as if they had feet, a scary sight. It got even more frightening when they attacked.

“Well, in the Redwood forest, the tree spirits can take the form of people, and interact with people. Their spirits walk among the elves.”

Keelie stared at him. “You’re serious. They can do that?” She pictured tree spirits chasing her around.

Dad nodded. “They’re quite powerful. Of course, most humans don’t see it. You’ll find them wise and independent. Their tree shepherd is most unusual.” He started polishing again. “I’m supposed to open the Heartwood shop at the High Mountain Faire the day after tomorrow, and I can’t change that commitment. So I want you to go to the redwoods in my stead. While you’re there, you can set up a Heartwood shop at the Juliet City Shakespeare Festival. We’ve never been there, and there’s space available.”

A million thoughts sped through Keelie’s mind. This

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