Into the Wildewood (16 page)

Where is my father? Is he with you?

No, he left our meeting at the rise of the sun. He is with the other elves.

Elianard?

No, but others who seek his wisdom on matters concerning the Wildewood.

Now she was mad. Dad knew they needed to be at the Canooga train station. Where was he? Still hanging out with the elves, talking shop.

She knew some of the elves were sick, but this was so much like Mom putting a client’s needs ahead of Keelie’s. She couldn’t leave Laurie stuck in town waiting for her. It wouldn’t take long to drive into Canooga Springs, collect Laurie, and skedaddle back to the Faire, and then Dad could get back to his meeting.

Tell him we need to go to town to pick up Laurie.

Keelie to town to pick up a Laurie.

It was cryptic, but okay. Dad would get the gist of it.

Keelie suddenly wondered whether, since the trees could send a message to Dad, they could send one to the unicorn. He was the guardian of the forest, so they should be able to communicate with him. She hadn’t seen the unicorn for almost a week, and was worried about him—especially now with the EPA guys in the woods. She should have thought about telepathically corresponding with him before, but talking to unicorns was all new to her.

Keelie liked this Tavak. Dad was right; she sensed a keen intelligence from the tree.

Thank you, Tavak. I need you to send one more message—to the unicorn.

Lord Einhorn is fading.

So, that was his name. And she knew he was fading after getting a glimpse of him.

Tell him the humans are searching the woods. He needs to find somewhere to hide.

Silence.

Then Tavak spoke again.
Lord Einhorn wants you to meet him in the circle of oaks on the path past the building you call Admin.

What time?
Keelie would have to sneak out. With Laurie around, that might be difficult.

Be there and he’ll find you
, Tavak said.

I’ll do my best.

Einhorn says you must. Or it might be too late.

No pressure.
I will meet him.

Tree Shepherd’s Daughter, your father’s consciousness is not open to us. Though we sense him, we cannot communicate your message to him.

Great. Dad had put the trees on hold. Keelie was getting a headache from all the telepathic communication.

We will continue to try to reach him. What more may the forest do to aid you, Tree Shepherdess Keliel?

Nothing, but as soon as you to talk to him, let me know.

As you wish, Tree Shepherdess.

The green glow disappeared, and Keelie opened her eyes. Her trembling hands were warm, and the rose quartz glowed like a teeny-tiny pink night-light.

Was Dad hurt? Maybe Elianard and the other elves had him imprisoned somewhere. Surely the trees would have sensed this, unless … ? She turned wildly, looking in the direction of the Swiss Miss Chalet. The battered truck with its ornate camper was gone. Her fear eased. No wonder the trees couldn’t find him. She made some mental notes: A) if they’d had cell phones, they could have communicated; B) if she had a driver’s license, she could drive Janice’s Wagoneer to Canooga Springs herself, and Dad could stay wherever he was, location unknown because (see A) she had no cell phone.

How many times had she told him that she had to pick up Laurie today? Wherever he was didn’t matter now. Maybe Janice could take her.

Keelie heard the wheezing before she noticed Knot trotting up to her. He sneezed, eyes squeezed shut, then looked up at her as if she’d caused it. Great, now the cat was sick.

“I’ll bet you’re contagious. Stay away from me.” Except for rabies, she didn’t know of any diseases that cats and humans could share. But he wasn’t really a cat, and she wasn’t totally human.

Knot didn’t come closer. Good thing, since Keelie was wearing a cute top and pants, and she wanted to stay presentable for Laurie.

The white cat crept over from behind the RV’s wheel, sat near Knot, and gazed up at Keelie. She opened the door of Sir Davey’s Winnebago. “Breakfast is inside. It’s some of that cat kibble Dad bought in Jackson Hole, all-natural yummy cat food.” Knot lifted a hind leg and began washing his butt.

“Fine, don’t eat, but let your little pal have some breakfast.” Neither cat went in. She couldn’t stand here holding the door forever. She brought the two bowls outside, and a third full of fresh water, and arranged them in the shade behind the tire. “All right, when you two are hungry, you know where the food is.”

Knot sneezed, and the white cat looked at him briefly, then returned its grayish gaze to Keelie. She didn’t have time for finicky felines, not when she had to find a way to get to the station to pick up Laurie.

She hurried toward the Faire, cutting through the spaces between the Faire workers’ tents. Many were deserted, while the inhabitants got their booths ready for the weekend, but others bustled with activity. Keelie ignored them all. She hadn’t planned on a trip to the Enchanted Lane.

Knot followed her, his silent steps occasionally punctuated with sneezes and snorts. This was worse than the endless licking. Keelie spun around, and was about to yell at him to get back to the Winnebago when she saw that the white cat had silently tagged along. The poor thing was desperate if he was hanging out with Knot the Snot.

She rushed up the path that intersected with the Enchanted Lane, thinking that she had bigger things to worry about than her cat’s social life. What if Laurie thought that she’d changed so much they couldn’t return to the way they’d been in California, sharing clothes and make-up and talking about boys? Keelie couldn’t tell Laurie everything about Sean. She could describe his hot bod, and the kiss, and how Elia had claimed Keelie had stolen him from her. But she couldn’t tell her best friend that he was an eighty-five-year-old elf. Or that she herself was part elf, or that all those times they’d played lacrosse in the fields at Baywood, the short trees next to the field had sung to her, and she’d stumbled as she tried to block them out.

Sean’s age still made
her
feel strange, and sometimes she pictured him as he would be if he were an eighty-five-year-old human, all wrinkled and stooped. Worse yet was the realization that he’d experienced things she couldn’t imagine. He must think that she was an infant, although he hadn’t kissed her the way you kiss a baby. The thought of his kiss made her shiver. He totally made her forget that she was only fifteen. Maybe that was what books called an ageless feeling.

She couldn’t wait to see him again. That was the one bright part of spending the coming winter in the Dread Forest, the home of elves in North America. She was to pass the time in elven studies, surrounded by her father’s people—feeling like an outsider.

Anxiety sped her steps, and her breath came in short gasps. The press of the trees’ unspoken pleas pressed against her. This was no panic attack. Keelie glanced up at the tree canopy. Talking to trees had its downside.

She reached for the rose quartz in her pocket and a wave of calm sluiced through her, hiding her behind its Earth-magic shield.

“Keelie. Hey, Keelie, wait up.” Sir Davey’s shout brought her back to the present. The little man was hurrying toward her, his satin musketeer’s cloak swirling around him and the white plume on his hat bobbing with each step. He refused to go along with the Robin Hood theme, but no one seemed bothered by the sight of the miniature musketeer in the midst of the Merry Men.

“Have you seen Dad? He didn’t come home from that Council meeting last night, and the truck is gone.”

Sir Davey stopped, breathless, and bent over, bracing himself with his hands on his knees. He held up his index finger. “He’s.” Breath. “At.” Another deep breath. “The lodge.”

“I thought they were meeting in the woods.”

Davey straightened. At full height, he reached Keelie’s nose. His hat evened the score a bit. “They decided to continue the meeting today at the lodge. He’s just under the weather, thought he’d stay in his camper. You know how elves are. They sleep, then wake up and feel better. Their immune systems are stronger than rocks.”

“My dad is alone and sick, sleeping in a parking lot, and no one told me? Take me to him.”

“Can’t. He doesn’t want you to catch what’s ailing him, and many more of the Faire folk from what I’ve seen. The lodge is starting to look like a hospital ward. You’re to stay in my RV with your friend from California. I’ll bunk with some of the Merry Men in their tent.”

At least she could be grateful that they’d be staying in modern surroundings. Exotic, but twenty-first century.

Knot opened his mouth, then sneezed in mid-meow.

Sir Davey met the cat’s green gaze with his own steel-gray one. His forehead furrowed. “Get some rest, old man, and I’ll look after Keelie. Take the day off.”

The cat blinked, then seemed to nod. He walked away, his tail dragging on the ground, pine needles clinging to his fluffy underside.

Keelie had never seen him sick. Not that she’d admit it aloud, but she was worried about him. She called out, “Hey, you’d better sleep in your cat bed and stay off my pillows.” He ignored her and padded on. She turned back to Sir Davey. “Knot talked to you, and you understood him.” She kept her tone casual, but this cat/person dialogue that she was excluded from was really bugging her.

“He meowed,” Sir Davey replied. “You talk to him, all the time. You were just yelling at him as if he understood.”

“Yeah. It’s one thing to talk
at
the cat, but it’s another to talk
to
the cat.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not. Dad does it, too.”

A glimpse of white drew her attention to the ground. The snowy little cat sat at her feet, its delicate head lifted toward her as if to say, “save me.” She reached down and patted it on the head. Tufts of white fur floated away. In the distance, Knot meowed.

The white cat’s ears twitched and it followed Knot’s path, as if he’d called. The pitiful thing was looking worse instead of better—she noticed two small bald patches on its haunches. “Poor abandoned kitty. We need to take him to the vet.”

“We don’t have time to take care of a feral cat right now.” Sir Davey was all business. “Let’s get to town. Later we can ask Janice about the poor beastie, and Knot as well. Right now if we don’t move it, your friend from California is going to be standing at the train station wondering if she’s been forgotten.”

They were entering the parking lot. It was comfortable walking with Sir Davey. She didn’t have to hurry to keep up, the way she did with Dad. “Can I drive to the train station?”

“No.” He answered matter-of-factly, as if she’d asked, “can we have bologna sandwiches for lunch?”

“How am I going to learn how to drive if no one will teach me?”

“I don’t know, and it’s not a priority.” Sir Davey brightened. “Ah, look, there’s Janice, right now. It’s your lucky day. Maybe after she heals your adopted cat, she can give you driving lessons.”

Adults thought they were so funny. Janice was at the Wagoneer with her car keys. She wore a purple sweatshirt that had “Earth Mama” embroidered across the chest in flowery blue.

“Are you excited about your friend coming?” Janice’s kindly face radiated good-mom vibes. Raven was so lucky.

“Yeah. I can’t wait to see her. I just wish Dad wasn’t sick.”

“Let him sleep for about twenty-four hours, and he’ll be fine.” Janice sounded reassuring. “There’s some weird bug going around, but those things come and go.”

“I hope so. Would you take a look at the little stray cat that’s been hanging around with Knot? Knot’s just sneezing, but the white cat’s losing the fur on the back of his legs. They’re headed toward Sir Davey’s camper.”

Janice glanced up the path. “I’ll check on him. Poor baby, left alone out here to fend for himself in the forest.” She spoke with so much emotion in her voice that Keelie didn’t know if Janice was talking about Dad or the stray cat. “His hair loss could be from malnutrition. I’ll look in on him this afternoon.”

Keelie felt better knowing Janice was going to examine the cat. “And don’t forget Knot’s sneezing. He’s either got a cold or he’s allergic to something around here.”

She smiled. “I’ll check on him, too. Any other under-the-weather animals I need to know about?”

“No.” Keelie looked up toward the hills and thought about the unicorn. Not unless Janice had an herbal remedy to make him better.

“She wants driving lessons.” Sir Davey rolled his eyes.

“What?” Janice frowned.

“I
need
driving lessons.”

The frown vanished, leaving Janice’s face as blank as a mannequin’s. “Oh. Well—” She glanced at her wrist. “Look at the time! You two had better get moving, or your friend is going to be waiting all alone in that train station, wondering where you are.”

Sir Davey grinned. “Come on, Keelie.”

As they hurried toward the parking lot, Keelie remembered that Janice never wore a watch. She could have just said no. Adults were hard to understand sometimes.

fourteen

Despite being too short to reach the pedals, Sir Davey drove the Wagoneer. The gas pedal just went down automatically when he needed to speed up, and the Jeep slowed down as he drove around a sharp curve. The brakes engaged whenever they came to a stop sign.

Keelie watched, amazed, before asking, “How are you doing that?”

“I’m using Earth magic, of course.” He pulled a stone from his pocket. “Remember, an object helps you focus the energy, and acts as a conduit for the magic.”

Keelie reached for the stone and Sir Davey yanked it away. “Don’t touch it,“ he said, panic in his voice. “I’m driving.” He placed the stone back into his coat pocket.

“Geez. Okay, I guess it’s your special rock.”

“No. It’s tuned to my magic. This rock’s energy pattern matches my own. If you touch it, you’ll damage it.”

“Wow. How can I get a special rock?” The possibilities of having a rock tuned to her were tempting. She could bypass driver’s ed, and maybe she could help the trees and the unicorn. “Does Dad know about this?” She fingered the rose quartz in her jeans pocket.