Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,72
you,” Laurie said, aiming a big smile at her friend.
Keelie slammed her coffee cup down. “What do you mean, you talked about me?”
“You and your tree weirdness.” Laurie didn’t seem concerned by her friend’s anger.
“It was the same way in the Dread Forest,” Risa confided. “Trees walking around. Unicorns coming out of the roots of a tree, and then that little seedling growing into a huge tree. Don’t get me started on the Earth magic and the fairy stuff.”
Keelie had heard enough. If Laurie and Risa wanted to bond, fine. Keelie rose from her chair. “Okay ladies, you can move your conversation to the Green Goddess Cart. I have a business to run.” They left, unperturbed by Keelie shooing them away from her shop.
Moments later, Tavyn stopped by. His skin was a normal elf color. “We’ve found evidence of the Redwood Tree Shepherd,” he said.
“Where?”
“Deep in a grove of hemlock. Bloodroot is investigating with Bella Matera.”
Tavyn didn’t show any sign of ill effects from tree possession, but Keelie still treated him as if Bloodroot was listening. She didn’t trust him.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
The elf ranger smiled, his normal, handsome face friendly as if yesterday’s frightening encounter had never happened.
“Ask away,” he said.
“Do you often let Bloodroot take over your body?”
“Only when he needs to go out in the human world. He’s been doing research. Sometimes we go to Los Angeles or San Francisco. It’s an honor to be of service to him.”
Keelie couldn’t imagine Bloodroot in a large city, or what that would do to his elf host. It had taken Risa and Sean a whole day to recover from the trip to Los Angeles.
“Normally he wants to go to the library, but now that we have an Internet connection, he doesn’t go into the city anymore,” Tavyn added.
Keelie’s head reeled. How advanced were the Ancients if they could use the Internet? And how did Tavyn survive being possessed, anyway? He either had powerful magic protecting him, or he was a zombie elf.
The sky was darkening when Keelie finished securing the shop for the day. After hours of talking to customers and arranging furniture shipments, she just wanted to crawl under the counter and snooze. Too bad Dad hadn’t sent down any beds to sell.
The sound of laughter and applause drifted toward her, meaning that the evening performance was underway. Keelie wanted to head in the opposite direction, but Grandmother was there and she’d said that they needed to talk.
You bet they needed to talk. Keelie had a thing or two to say to her grandmother. Working in Heartwood alone was exhausting, and though they were supposed to be here to find Viran and help the trees, they had made little progress. The trees here were so powerful and scary that Keelie thought they needed more help than just one old lady elf and one half-elf teenager.
Keelie had known that the redwoods were different from other forests—more intelligent, more evolved. But she was shocked at the elves who allowed tree spirits to take them over as if they were puppets. She wondered if the Redwood Tree Shepherd had simply abandoned his post. Did tree shepherds ever ditch a job?
If even Grandmother was falling under their enthralling influence, as seemed to be the case, Viran could have fallen sway to their powerful magic.
She had to talk to Dad. She tried the elven cell phone again, but couldn’t connect. With all the massive trees around, the tree-powered elven phone should work better than ever, but she couldn’t even get a signal. Disgusted, Keelie headed toward the Globe. Maybe someone there would lend her a phone.
A jangle disrupted the air, except it didn’t sound as sinister as it normally did. Keelie stopped at the entrance to the theater, where several smaller redwoods grew close together. She searched for Peascod, and drew in a breath when she saw him hobbling along the edge of the theater to a back exit. Relief rose in her as he kept moving.
From here, she could see the stage. The nearby trees’ faces were out, lips repeating the lines they heard Hermia and Lysander speak.
“The trees really like Shakespeare.” Coyote was sitting at her feet.
She jumped, then ran her fingers through her hair, trying to pretend that she hadn’t been frightened. “What are you doing here?” The sneaky fairy was too quiet. She wondered how much he overheard when he skulked around.