Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,7
thatched cottage. “That might be the one.”
Keelie shuddered, remembering Finch, the draconic director of the Wildewood Faire. Luckily, that faire’s Admin office didn’t have a thatched roof. Finch’s salty tongue would have caught it on fire.
Grandmother yawned, then pressed her hand against her mouth to suppress another one. “Let’s check in, then go to the campsite. I need to rest. We can check out the festival grounds tomorrow.”
“We need to unload all the furniture,” Keelie said. Grandmother must have forgotten the huge trailer of wooden furniture for sale, which Dad had sent ahead.
“I can’t unload it. My back.” Grandmother rubbed her spine.
Keelie forced herself not to roll her eyes. She’d once caught sight of her reflection in the hall mirror when Dad had been imparting his usual parental wisdom, and realized that rolling her eyes made her look like a peevish little kid.
She eyed the Silver Bough Jousting Company’s horse trailer. Maybe Sean and the other jousters would help her with the furniture. If they wouldn’t do it for her, then surely they would do it for Grandmother, who until recently had ruled the elves of the Dread Forest.
Keelie retrieved the registration papers from her messenger bag. “Let’s get going, then. I’ll figure something out about the furniture.”
Grandmother seemed content to forget the unloading. She stretched her arms wide and swiveled her waist as if she was doing a yoga move. There was a loud pop. “That’s better.”
Keelie had practiced yoga over the winter with Zabrina, who thought it would help her control her magic, but it was strange to see Granny Elf doing yoga. It was as if leaving the Dread Forest had given Grandmother a whole new mindset, and Keelie wasn’t sure what to think of it.
She started up the gravel path that led to the thatched cottage, Grandmother lagging behind, still stretching her arms. Keelie ignored her, choosing to focus on the feeling of efficiency that filled her. This was her third faire, and she knew the routine. She had to find the Heartwood shop and then convince Sean and the other jousters to help unload Dad’s beautiful furniture. She’d park Grandmother somewhere to get her out of the way, or maybe put her in charge of setting up the tent.
Wait until Dad heard. He’d be proud of Keelie’s business prowess. She would prove to him that she could be trusted as well as any adult. Even though she was only sixteen, Keelie considered herself to be an adult. After all the things she’d been through, she should certainly qualify as one.
“Keliel. Stop.” Grandmother’s voice held the “obey me now” tone that she used on the elves of the Dread Forest.
Keelie spun around. “Come on. If your back still hurts I’ll see if there’s a massage shop here. We’re late getting to Admin and there’s a lot to do. The Festival opens day after tomorrow.” Grandmother was cramping Keelie’s efficient business plan.
Grandmother held out a hand to silence her, then turned her brilliant green gaze to the tree canopy above them. She looked at Keelie. “Can you hear them?”
Keelie looked up at the impossibly tall trunks of the sequoias and the leafy canopy that towered above them like faraway green umbrellas. She’d been shielding herself from the trees, not wanting to be distracted by their thoughts and chatter.
Fog suddenly swirled between the trees, enveloping them in eddies like a fast-moving river of white smoke. In seconds, it was impossible to see beyond her grandmother and the silhouette of the Admin building.
Great. Keelie had hoped for twenty-four hours of normalcy before she became involved with the local trees. She had been looking forward to seeing the giant redwoods, but she was afraid of them, too. They were so old.
Keelie closed her eyes and saw, in her mind’s eye, a golden sparkling light interwoven with dark mist. This was fairy magic, she knew. Strange, because she hadn’t seen a single bhata or feithid daoine anywhere. The forest seemed to be empty of fae. She willed the mist to dissolve, and a bright green light illuminated the landscape of her mind.
A strong jolt like a mental punch almost knocked her over, as the redwoods’ thoughts crowded in and around her. A strong and ancient magic flowed through them. Keelie fought for breath and opened her eyes. Faces now pushed out from the bark in the trees, looking at her solemnly. She’d seen the tree faces before in other forests, but usually the