Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,46

hate you. I love you!

Dad said that Mom hadn’t taken her seriously, but it was the last thing she’d ever said to her mother.

Knot scooted past her, tail held high. Sean turned to look at the kitchen as Knot ducked into her old bedroom.

Ugh. Keelie followed Knot, anxious to prevent a cat accident. Knot was not above using a nice new carpet as his personal toilet, and the house belonged to someone else now.

“Come back here, Knot. Use the garden.”

Her bedroom was empty. For a moment Keelie just stood, staring at the neutral paint on the walls. She blinked back tears. She would not let this get to her. She had a new life now. She thought of her room in Oregon, of the four-poster bed with its twisty carved posts, and the window with a view of the forest. She thought of the fish kite that dangled in the hallway, twirling slowly. That was home now. This—she pictured a home office. Or a nursery. That was it. She felt better thinking that her old room would belong to a baby. The crib could go there, against the wall, and a rocking chair by the window …

She opened the closet door. A rod, a shelf. No cat. Keelie walked quickly from room to room, looking for Knot, but he’d vanished. Sean was in the front room, but the rest of the house was empty.

Just as well. She walked toward Mom’s room. As long as the house was here, Keelie had held out hope that Mom would come back, even though the logical part of her brain said it was impossible. She had seen a lot of magic, but none that brought back the dead. She’d come here partly to prove to herself that Mom wasn’t coming back.

Knot came trotting toward her, tail swishing. “Where were you, bad kitty? You stick close, okay?”

She went into Mom’s bedroom with Knot at her side. Also empty, of course. Empty, yet full of Mom. The walls were painted a soft peach, Mom’s favorite color. They hadn’t been repainted, and her almond and rose smell filled the room as if she’d just left. If only she could come back for a goodbye, for one last hug and kiss.

Tears sprang to Keelie’s eyes, and then trailed wet and warm down her cheek.

Knot leaned against her leg, stuck to her like crazy glue. He purred, but it was a different kind of purr, a warm soothing rhythm like a furry blanket of sound that wrapped her in comfort. She felt the tension in her body slowly release. The empty room didn’t contain her mother. Mom was in her memories … mornings in bed reading stories, playing games on weekends. Mom teaching her about makeup. She smiled, remembering the happy discoveries they’d made shopping. Those thoughts were locked away in her heart and mind. She never thought she could remember that happiness without hurting, but she could.

She looked down at Knot, and he blinked up at her, showing fang in a kitty grin. Keelie didn’t know if he’d used magic on her, but she gave him a slight nod of appreciation.

She had another reason for coming in here, too. She opened the door to the walk-in closet. It was almost as big as Dad’s Swiss Miss Chalet (she’d gained an appreciation for small spaces since sleeping in that tiny camper). Kneeling in front of the metal furnace grate on the wall, Keelie pressed the upper right-hand screw that seemed to hold it in place. The grate clicked open, revealing that it was a door. Inside was a safe. Talbot and Talbot knew nothing about this, and Keelie’s hand trembled as she reached for the knob.

She knew the combination. It was the same one that Mom had used for everything from bike locks to her ATM card. Her photos and journals were inside, and just maybe, an explanation of why she kept Keelie away from Dad, why she’d lied about Keelie’s “tree allergy.”

The combination lock sprang open. Keelie felt a tickling wind pass her, coming from the safe. She’d broken a magical ward. Bits of it still fluttered around like a spider web that had been torn. Keelie detected a strange coldness, too. Dark magic had been used here.

She stared disbelievingly at the inside of the open safe. It was empty. She reached into its depths and felt around. Nothing. As she pulled her arm out, a torn piece of paper fluttered to the ground. She picked it up