The Tree Shepherd's Daughter (14 page)

Earth magic, magical gifts, never divorced. The words
spun through her head, making her dizzy. Keelie flopped
onto the tall bed and hugged a pillow.

Tears burned her eyes, and she closed them tightly. She
wouldn't cry. Why not, though? Who would see? She buried her face in the pillow and let the tears come.

She wanted to throw or break something, to tear something up until all of her anger melted away.

Colorado, New York, Oregon. But not California.

Never.

Never.

Never.

Something purred near her head. She opened her eyes.
There, like a furry pile of autumn leaves, was Knot, curled
into the corner behind her pillow.

"What are you doing in here?"

He purred louder.

"Go away."

The inner rumbling increased.

"That horse would have stomped you into itty-bitty
kitty pieces if I hadn't shouted at it."

The purring stopped.

"Ungrateful beast."

It started again.

"I hate cats."

He sounded like a car engine.

"I hate you, especially."

The cat opened his weird green eyes and blinked at her.

With each insult, the gnawing anger inside of her dissipated a little.

"You're ugly."

Knot stretched and yawned.

"You shed fur everywhere."

The cat sat up.

"I should kick your butt for peeing in my suitcase."

Knot licked the fur on his tail with his pink tongue.

"Ew! Gross!"

The cat hopped off the bed and meandered over to the
door. He sat down, his head turned expectantly toward
Keelie.

She scooted off the bed, walked over to him, and stared down at the insolent feline, her hands on her hips. "I'm
not your door girl."

He blinked up at her.

"All right." She cracked the door and the cat squeezed
out. She reasoned that if she didn't let him out, he might
spray the room. It would be unliveable. As it was, she
might never get the noxious smell of his urine out of her
underwear and suitcase.

She heard her father speaking to a woman at the base
of the stairs. Keelie could see his back and heard her low
response. Keelie closed the door but left it open a wee
smidge so she could hear and see.

"I don't know how to get through to her," Zeke was
saying.

The woman answered, "Give her time, Zeke. Keelie
has just arrived to a whole new world. It's the total opposite of what she's known, and on top of that she's grieving
for her mother."

It sounded like nosy Janice. Keelie didn't need anyone
going to bat for her. If she was blowing her father's mind
with her rebellious attitude, then her plan was working.
He would want to get rid of her all the sooner. And that
meant she could live with Laurie in Los Angeles.

Keelie was doing him a favor.

She watched as her father's shoulders slumped. "I
should never have agreed to be hands-off with Keelie's
upbringing all those years ago. But that was what Katy
wanted. She was so afraid of what Keelie would become.
As if keeping her away from me would change the facts."

Keelie sucked in her breath. It wasn't Mom's idea for Zeke not to see her. How dare he blame his absence all
these years on Mom!

"What are you going to do? It's obvious what she is,"
the woman said. "The whole Ren Faire's buzzing about
her. She needs to know, Zeke, and be taught some control.
She's already wreaked havoc. That cat, for example. And
poor Elia-not that she didn't deserve it. But if the mundanes notice, it would mean real trouble, for all of us."

Keelie almost jumped out of her hiding place. Had
they gone crazy?

Her dad sat on the stairs, long legs sprawled out. He
leaned his head on his hand. "She doesn't want to learn
about her gift. Katy let Keelie think we were divorced, that
I abandoned them."

So it was true. Keelie's head felt heavy.

Knot hopped into her father's lap, and he absentmindedly scratched him behind the ear. The cat closed his eyes
and swished his tail.

"Stinker," Keelie mouthed silently.

Knot opened his eyes. They glowed like freaky green
swamp gas. What was even freakier was that the cat stared
right at Keelie as if he heard her. He began purring so
loudly that she could hear his thrum upstairs.

Keelie quietly shut the door. The whole Ren Faire was
talking about her? Well, la-de-da. She was leaving anyway.

No way she was going to wait around for Zeke to have
another life-changing chat with her. She waited until Zeke
left the stairs and returned to work, then put her shoes on
and took off down the hill. She needed to see Ariel. She had a lot in common with the imprisoned hawk. Maybe
she could just talk to her.

The sky was a lot darker than usual for this time of the
evening, even though the tornado watch had been called
off. She'd probably be missing dinner, if Zeke was planning to cook. More likely he'd send her back to Mrs. Butters. What a weird little woman.

Keelie passed merchants putting up their wares and locking their shops. A few glanced at her, then quickly turned
back to their tasks. Keelie frowned. Was it her breath? Here
she was dressed like one of them, living here, and she was
being treated like a leper. Not that she wanted to be the
local princess. But, still-would it hurt them to say hi?

She slowed as she reached the Birds of Prey show stage.
A little sign next to a giant pine read "The Mews." Behind
it was the place where the bird cages were kept. It was dark
and silent.

What if she went in and woke the birds up? The great
owls and vultures and hawks? The squawking would bring
down a crowd. She stopped and looked around. Sir Davey's shop was not too far away, but she didn't feel like another lesson on dirt and mud. Thunder rumbled above,
but it seemed far away.

Maybe waking the birds was a bad idea. She needed
warmth and to be around people. She thought of the
Shire. Keelie turned toward the path. Maybe she would
take more than a couple of swallows of the bottle when it
was passed around. She needed something to warm her on
the inside as well as the outside.

Last night, the tent had been warm and dry. She wondered what tent Sean slept in. And if he slept alone. Maybe
Raven knew. She'd go to the Shire and ask her. She whipped
around and started back down the hill, staying close to the
merchants opposite Heartwood, in case Zeke saw her.

She walked past Galadriel's Closet and scooted quickly
down to the bridge. She remembered Raven's instructions.
"Over the bridge, past the meadow," she muttered. Stay
on the path.

As the shadow of the bridge came into view, she saw
lights to the left. Bingo. She remembered the lovers doing
it underneath the bridge last night. With so many tents
and buildings around, you'd think people would pick some
place warmer and dryer. A troll didn't under live under the
bridge. Or did it?

She thought about the slugs and frogs and spiders that
no doubt did live there. Creepier than a troll, in her book.

She touched the handrail. Her hand buzzed, tingling.
And she knew. Redwood from California.

"Far from home, aren't you?" Keelie murmured. Quickly,
she withdrew her hand. And inhaled. She had to stop this.
She just needed to be around the other kids that hung out
at the party. Hopefully, she could find Sean. She imagined
placing her hands against his chest as he wrapped his arms
around her. She envisioned the warmth of his body soaking
into hers.

"Keliel." Her name wafted around her like half-remembered perfume. A ghost of her name, carried on the faint
breeze, and drawn out, as if the speaker were singing, but
forgot the tune.

She looked around nervously. Keliel. The voice had
plainly called her by her given name. Not Keelie, the nickname her mother had called her. Who besides her dad and
Ms. Talbot even knew it?

The rain-laden breeze ruffled her hair. "Keliel," the
voice moaned, and it sounded as if it was coming from beneath the boards under her feet. "Keliel, swim with me."

What the heck? She looked down. Not cool. She
thought of walking up this path yesterday with Raven,
talking about horror movies. Creepy films where girls
walking around in the dark alone always ended up as chick
nuggets.

The girls in those movies were too stupid to live. She
didn't consider herself stupid, so why the heck was she out
here in the dark? She wasn't going to stick around to find
out whoever or whatever knew her name. Her real name.

Suddenly, she realized that it was quiet. As in, not even
any insects. No light. She looked behind her, up the path
toward Heartwood. No light showed. Only the moon illuminated the path. Fast clouds moved in the purple sky
around it.

She looked around, then stopped. There was a light.
It was on the other side of the clearing. She wasn't afraid,
she told herself, breaking into a run. Gravel in the path
crunched underfoot as she sped toward the light. It must
be the Shire.

She was off the path now, trying to ignore the buzzing
on her skin as she passed tree after tree. So many. Pine,
pine, oak, hawthorn. Something about the hawthorn was
different. She didn't stick around to find out.

She ran faster, eager to get to the light. She veered north,
the moon at her right shoulder. The meadow she ran through
was fragrant with tall grass. At the end of the meadow was a
forest. The light came from there. Suddenly, a cloud of bugs
sprang out of the weeds. Fireflies. Hundreds and hundreds
of them.

Storm clouds covered the moon, and it was suddenly
dark. Pitch black. No stars. No way of orienting herself.
The fireflies glowed brighter, seeming to gain light from
the darkness. They hovered, a living wall.

She stopped, afraid. Bugs didn't get brighter. These
fireflies didn't twinkle, turning on and off like regular
ones. They just glowed. Like lightbulbs. She backed away.
She didn't want to go through them. Her stomach ached,
as if it had been clenched for a long time. She shivered.
She had to find a way home. She wanted her mom.

Maybe she could ask the voice at the bridge for directions. Okay, maybe not. This was weird. She wasn't afraid
of the dark. And she sure as heck wasn't afraid of bugs or
lights.

She forced herself to take a step forward. Fireflies were
just little bugs. Bugs were creepy, but fireflies were like
lady bugs. Raven would forge ahead and not be afraidshe'd march right into the creepy dark, and whatever was
in the woods would be afraid.

Keelie took a step toward the forest, then another. The
lights were closer, and then they were gone, and she was
at the edge of a village. An honest to goodness village, not
the crappy mudfest of the Faire.

Why didn't her dad's place look this good? She stepped onto the pine-needle cushion of the forest floor and felt
immediate relief, as if an unknown pain had been relieved.

A stone tower pushed toward the tree tops, embellished
with carved, jeweled dragonflies and stone leaves. Really,
Dad had the forest thing going on, but these people took
it to designer level.

It was no Bel-Air mansion, but if she was roughing it,
this was roughing it with style. A beautiful smell clung to
the place. Like going into a Bath & Body Works. What
was that smell? It was like Christmas here. A subtle hint of
cinnamon imbued the mostly pine forest.

A movement at the base of the tower caught her eye.
Elia was inside, wiping down her harp. Holy cow. Keelie
crept closer. She lived upstairs from a wood shop, and Elia
lived in a stone tower, like a princess? So not fair.

Before she could get closer, a man appeared. He looked
like something from The Lord of the Rings. Tall, with long
blonde hair and a long, cold face, he wore crimson robes
that swept the forest floor as he stepped in front of her,
barring her way.

"Whoa. Am I glad to see you. Can you tell me how to
get back to the Faire?"

"Who are you? How did you get here?"

Elia came to the door. "Father, is something wrong?"
She saw Keelie and froze. "Keelie? How did you get past
the Dread?"

This guy was Elia's dad! Immediately, Keelie saw the
family resemblance. Sneering must be in their genetic code.
Elia angled her head in that snarky I'm-better-than-you tilt that irritated Keelie. She'd have to do an impression of Elia
for Raven.

But, the Dread? What was that, their guard dog? "I
didn't see any Dread. I got off the path and got lost. Really, if you show me the way back I'll be out of your hair
in a minute. By the way, love the outfit. Where did you
get it?" Gold embroidered leaves trailed around the wide
sleeves: a back-to-nature theme with bling, bling. It went
with the designer feel of the camp.

Glowering at Keelie, Elia's dad swung a silver chain
back and forth like a pendulum. "You're Heartwood's brat.
His little human half-breed."

Keelie's eyes were drawn to the strange pendant, a
vine of thorns twined around an acorn. She shivered as
the man's glance caught hers. The thorn-imprisoned acorn
spun around hypnotically. Clasping his hand over the pendant, he shoved it up his wide sleeve.

As it vanished, she regained her courage. "I am Keliel
Heartwood," she confirmed, giving him her full name.
"And who are you?"

His eyebrows surged together in a glacial frown.

A voice spoke a name in her mind, green and fragrant
with sap, counteracting the strong odor of cinnamon.

"Elianard. That's your name."

He stepped back.

"How did she know, Father?" Elia's voice was almost
frightened.

Suddenly, an overpowering darkness enveloped Keelie.
The trees swayed, but she couldn't feel the wind; instead,
it was hot. Very hot and sticky. Sweat dripped down her back as she stumbled away from the blurring images of
Elianard and Elia. His crimson robes becoming a morphic
swirl of crimson and darkness. A nasty giggle surrounded
Keelie as she woodenly ran away from the camp. She had
to get out of here. Now. She couldn't stay any longer. If
she did she wouldn't be able to breathe.