Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,6
like the redwoods,” Grandmother said. “They make one feel insignificant.”
A roaring echo filled Keelie’s ears, and an odd, musky scent filled the car. Help us, tree voices chorused. Help us, Keliel. Just as suddenly the noise was gone, leaving Keelie’s ears ringing with the sudden silence.
She looked quickly at Grandmother, but the old lady drove on, and behind them, Knot snored on his kitty cushion. Keelie had been the only one to receive the message, yet Grandmother was in charge of this mission.
Whatever it had meant, the trees sounded desperate. Keelie was suddenly determined not to let them down.
Grandmother maneuvered the truck into the sandy parking lot of the Juliet City Shakespeare Festival, narrowly missing the plywood cartoon cutout of William Shakespeare holding a wooden scroll that read, “Welcome to the Faire.” It wouldn’t have been a loss if the truck had demolished the unflattering portrait. The big, bulging eyes and bulbous nose made the Bard of Avon look like a troll.
Huge sequoias surrounded the festival grounds, and the buzz of their conversation was deafening. Keelie touched her rose quartz, then tapped into her elf magic to put the trees on silent. She would make her introductions later, when she had everything for the shop handled. The truck rolled to a stop and Grandmother turned the engine off with a satisfied smile.
Keelie jumped out, shivering from the chill air. She’d shelved her fantasy of sunbathing in her cute little yellow bikini when they’d passed the steep, rocky beach that was crowded with sleek, fat sea lions. No way. But the town of Juliet City was charming, and she couldn’t wait to visit it and get familiar with the festival grounds.
Knot was on the back of the bench seat, tail swishing, ready to join her. She shrugged and let him out. He’d find trouble no matter where he was.
“What do we do first?” Grandmother was stretching out the road kinks, leaning against the truck hood.
“Check in with administration.” Keelie felt superior because she knew what to do, while Grandmother had never left her woodland home. The Silver Bough Jousting Company’s horse hauler was parked on the opposite side of the lot, and seeing it made Keelie’s heart quicken with excitement. Sean was here somewhere, with his jousters. Of course, Risa was here too, at her new business called “Green Goddess Herbals.”
Things hadn’t been so hot between Keelie and Sean by the time he’d left for the festival. He’d seemed distant. Keelie knew that he was busy with the horses and the other jousters, preparing for the trip, but the worst had been the day when he left. Dad had been right there with the rest of the elves, and Sean hadn’t kissed her. He’d hugged her briefly and said, “See you in Colorado.” That was it. She’d been stuck with the rest of the group, waving goodbye, as if a piece of her heart wasn’t going with him. Elves!
What really bothered Keelie was that Risa had been hanging around the barn in the days before the jousters left, bringing late winter apples, helping to feed the horses, and telling everyone that she was happy to be useful. Keelie was sure that she was scoping out the jousters to see who was available, and maybe even checking out Sean, her former betrothed. No one else thought that Risa was strange, since, after all, Risa was one of the two young, pureblood elf girls, and therefore the biggest chance the elves had of increasing their dwindling population. The other pure elf girl was Elia, Keelie’s frenemy. She didn’t want to think about Elia, even though they weren’t actively at war anymore. Or so Elia said. At least Elia wouldn’t be hanging around at this festival.
Grandmother had climbed back into the drivers’ seat. She rubbed her hands along the rim of the steering wheel, looking like she was very satisfied with herself for having driven them all the way. Then she got back out, holding a leaf-embroidered tote bag, and carefully locked the dilapidated truck’s door. “What are you staring at? Let’s get on with it.”
Keelie shook her head, forcing herself to focus. She looked at the map and notes that Dad had given to her. “It says Admin is on the edge of the parking area.” She looked around. This festival was old and the buildings crowded close to the parking lot, with only a short picket fence separating the cars from the village.
Grandmother gestured toward a house that looked like an English