Shadows of the Redwood - By Gillian Summers Page 0,8

tree spirits waited a while to show her.

These guys didn’t waste anytime in revealing themselves. Waves of power poured from them, but Keelie pulled on her magic to create a barrier. Finally she breathed easier, as if the oxygen tap had been turned back on.

Grandmother turned in a slow circle, her eyes wide. “O, Ancient Ones, it is our honor to be among you.”

It is our honor, Keliatiel of the northern forest, to see you and your young sapling Keliel, about whom we have heard so much. The voice seemed to come from everywhere. Keelie couldn’t tell which tree had spoken.

Grandmother bowed her head reverently.

“Hi.” Keelie finger-waved, determined not to show how stunned she was by their age and power. She centered her magic on her barriers to keep from being overwhelmed.

We have much to discuss, and are thankful to the northern elves for sparing you to answer our summons.

Grandmother bowed again, then lifted her palms upwards. “My granddaughter and I are privileged to help the Ancient Ones. We will do whatever is necessary to aid you.”

Was the old lady nuts? You couldn’t make such open promises to a tree. They took everything literally. Keelie wanted to kick Grandmother so she’d shut up. Dealing with Alora the treeling had taught Keelie that trees did not understand little human problems like prior commitments, or fear of death and dismemberment. Despite their grand majesty, she was sensing more than great power from the redwoods. There was great need as well, and something else. Something familiar, but fleeting.

Tonight we shall discuss our problem further, and make formal greetings, the deep voice said in their minds. Until then, tree shepherds. The tree faces melted back into the bark.

Keelie waited for the tree magic to grow faint before wheeling around to confront her grandmother. “Why did you promise them that we could help them? We have no idea what the problem is.”

Grandmother waved her hand nonchalantly. “I don’t think it will be a big deal.” She reached for the papers in Keelie’s hand. “Why don’t we see about registering for the shop and getting the furniture moved out of the truck?”

Stunned, Keelie watched her grandmother stride toward the thatched cottage, all signs of muscle fatigue gone. The old faker was hiding something. What was going on with her? She’d given up being head of the Dread Forest and now Dad had that role, so why was her supposedly exhausted grandmother extending an open-ended offer of help? There was no telling what the redwoods wanted, and it might be something that they couldn’t deliver.

Keelie wasn’t happy about being tricked, but part of her admired the fact that Grandmother had done something she might have done. Keelie never could resist a cry for help.

Grandmother turned around at the door of the cottage. “Are you coming, or do I have to do everything myself?”

“You are too much.” Keelie marched up the steps, but before she could come up with a smartass retort, her grandmother had entered the cottage.

Keelie clenched her fists. Keliatiel was acting like the bossy old elf that Keelie had met late last summer when she’d first arrived in the Dread Forest. She would not let the old woman’s elvish snottiness get to her.

Inside the thatched cottage, the man who greeted them had a beaky nose, long dark hair, and a thin beard on a sharp protruding chin. He sat behind a glistening, polished wood desk that was decorated with Shakespearean knickknacks. The Romeo and Juliet kissing bobbleheads were disturbingly cute. A tarnished nameplate read, “Master Oswald, The Lord Mayor.”

“Ladies, please do come in.” Master Oswald was faking an English accent. Badly.

Two leather wingback chairs were in front of the desk, and their occupants stood up. Sean and Risa.

Keelie stepped back into the doorway and let Grandmother lead so that she’d have a chance to control her expression. How humiliating if they’d seen her joy at spotting Sean turn to anger at the sight of Risa.

Risa smiled at her, eyes flashing, and Keelie knew she’d seen.

Sean bowed. “Good day, Lady Keliatiel. Please take my seat. We were just leaving.” His eyes connected with Keelie’s.

Keelie gave him a squinty evil look. “Fancy seeing the two of you. Together.”

His gaze darkened, and Keelie shivered. She loved that look. Not that she was going to let on.

“So lovely to see you here, Lord Sean,” Grandmother purred. She glanced dismissively at Risa. “And you too, of course, Risa my dear.” Grandmother’s tone was a whole iceberg.

Risa curtseyed, the movement loosening

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