twenty-two

“I shouldn’t let you live.”

Finch was red-faced from screaming, and she’d almost run out of steam. Keelie’s ears rang from the eighty-decibel lecture she’d endured for the last twenty minutes.

“If this was the Middle Ages, your head would be on a pike at the gates as a warning to all other bumblers and fools. You’ve cost the Faire hundreds of dollars.”

“I thought I was going to pay for it.” Keelie regretted the words as soon as she spoke them.

Finch’s hair, already standing on end, seemed to poke up higher, and her complexion went from tomato to firecracker. She loomed over Keelie like a corseted dragon, ready to spit fire.

“Insolent child! Rude puppy!” Finch was probably choking off worse expletives. She threw her clipboard on the floor and stomped her booted foot on it, cracking the press-board away from the metal clip.

Keelie swallowed. Mom would have said that it was good to transfer aggression to an inanimate object rather than to the real person. She wondered if she’d be paying for a new clipboard as well. She faced the Faire director, hoping Finch wouldn’t kill her. Did the elves have Lorems for dead tree shepherdesses? Maybe Knot would even mourn for her. Dad would date again, if he didn’t have a daughter around.

Finch sat down in her desk chair and lowered her head onto the palm of her hand. She said in a very low voice, “That window alone was nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

The world narrowed and got dark. I will not faint.

On the other side of the room, the Faire medics were tending to the owner of the Hearts of Glass shop. He was looking better—the color was coming back to his face—but he had to keep breathing into a paper bag every few minutes, especially whenever he attempted to say “window.” It kept coming out as “win, win,” and then he had to breathe into the bag.

“Add that to the Steak-on-a-Stake costume,” Finch continued. “The dry cleaning for the Plumpkin costume, an extra large bottle of Febreze.” She punched some numbers—tickey tock, tickey tock—on her desk calculator. “That’s forty-five dollars, added to the nine hundred and fifty, that’s a total of nine hundred and ninety-five dollars. Let’s make it an even thousand. You have until the end of the day to pay it.”

Finch’s bun had come down, and strands of red hair were wild and loose. She looked like Medusa. It might have been easier to face Medusa at this moment than her. She reached into her desk drawer, pulled out a silver flask, and took a sip. “What are you waiting for? Get out of here, and don’t come back until you have my money.”

“Will I be assigned a new job?”

“No!” Finch roared, and the veins in her forehead popped out in excruciating detail. “You are fired.”

Keelie ran. Outside, Raven and Laurie were waiting for her by the path that led to the campground.

“We heard every word,” Laurie said, eyes wide. “She really let you have it.”

Raven’s expression was strange, as if she’d just discovered that a bug was crawling up her leg. Then she gave up trying to control her expression and guffawed. “You were Plumpkin?”

“It’s not funny,” Keelie grumbled. She shouldn’t have to pay for cleaning that noxious costume. She’d burn it for them for free. “Humiliating, yes. Hilarious, no.”

Laurie draped her arm over Keelie’s shoulders. “I’ll give you the money. You don’t have to tell your dad about the thousand you owe.”

A thousand dollars. Even if she’d worked full time all summer, she wouldn’t have earned that much. Keelie leaned against a maple tree. It sent waves of comfort to her. She pressed her head against its bark. “I have to tell Dad. He’ll find out.”

“Yeah, he will.” Laurie sighed, and then her voice became very cheerful. “One good thing is, if you ever move back to L.A. you can work as a theme park character. You know, I think I would like doing that. Meeting people at a theme park, you get to see real families that are happy and ready to have fun with their kids.”

Keelie remembered thinking the same thing the first time she’d ever set foot in a Renaissance Faire. All the families had looked so happy. Her mother had just died and she was all alone. Laurie might be feeling the same way.

“And one more good thing is that you don’t have to wear that hideous Steak-on-a-Stake costume ever again.” Laurie shuddered. “I saw the girls in them, and you should sue the Faire for inflicting that tackiness on you. Heck, the customers had to look at them. You could make it a class action lawsuit. Better yet, thank your cat for screwing up that job.”

Keelie smiled, and her eyes closed as she drew comfort from the tree. Laurie was working overtime to cheer her up. “I need to get back to the shop and tell Dad before he hears it from someone else.” If he was there. She also needed to make sure the oaks were still quiet, although she would have heard if they had awakened.

Nearby was a kiosk specializing in silver jewelry. Laurie was looking toward it longingly. “Do you mind if I look at this jewelry?”

“No, go ahead.” Keelie sat on the ground. She leaned back and soaked up the encompassing green of the maple’s comfort. Green-magic hugs.

Tree Shepherdess, do you need us?

Tavak?

Yes.

Did you sense Elia use magic today?

She has gone to join her father at the lodge. The tree was evading her question.

Let me know if she returns.

Yes, Tree Shepherdess.

How are the oaks across our shop doing?

They sleep, but not for long. You need to return soon, Tree Shepherdess.

I’m on my way.

Funny. Dad should be there by now to keep an eye on the oaks. Maybe he was busy with customers. She should have asked Tavak. She recalled the dark circles under Dad’s eyes this morning. Her bad news would not help him heal.

“Doing your tree thing?”

Keelie opened her eyes. Raven had a huge smile on her face. Keelie wanted to wipe it off.

“I’m glad my life is such comedic fodder for your personal enjoyment.” She looked toward the kiosk, where Laurie was paying the silversmith for a purchase. At least her friend was good for the economic health of the Faire.

Raven shook her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you about the Plumpkin suit and Vernerd. They’re legendary. But by next year, you’ll think it’s funny and tell everyone about it.”

By then, Keelie would be part of the legend, too. She decided to change the topic. “Why are you here? Whatever happened to the Perilous Pirate marketing stuff you were going to do for Captain Dandy Randy?”

“The company that bought his game went with a large marketing firm out of L.A. He had no control over who did the advertising.”

Keelie frowned. “Oh. But what happened, exactly, at Doom Kitty? Janice said you loved it there.”

Raven sat down on a rock near the maple. She pulled a dandelion out of the ground and twirled it around in her hand. She looked up at Keelie. “I did. I came up with this really great promo thing for this group. The lead singer, Poison Ivy, loved it. She loved it. Then, the next day, she hated it, and it was like she had it in for me. I think she cast a spell on me or something, because everything I touched went wrong from that point on. If I filed papers, the filing cabinet drawer would slide out and crash to the floor. Sharpened pencils would fly through the air like arrows. If I made coffee, everyone would get diarrhea. There was a very bad vibe in the air. And there was this cinnamon smell everywhere. I never want a cinnamon roll, ever again. I associate it with bad things. They fired me. Told me I had bad mojo, and called in a shaman to exorcise the place.” Raven looked at the dandelion, surprised. She’d shredded it. She dropped it and wiped her hands on her skirt.

The smell of cinnamon. Keelie knew it well, but she didn’t think humans associated it with the presence of elven magic. She looked at her friend closely. Raven’s ears were in full view, with rounded tops.

Keelie leaned close and whispered, “Do you have any elf enemies?”

Raven gave her a look. “Just the usual jealous elf girl. She’s not exactly an enemy, though. She’s that way to everyone.”

“Besides her.” Keelie stopped. “Unless you think Elia is powerful enough to put a whammy on you all the way in Manhattan.”

“You know that Daddy’s Little Girl gets whatever she wants.” Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Elia. It never occurred to me. But why would she? And what makes you suspect it was elven magic?”

“The cinnamon smell. It’s a giveaway. Although—” Keelie hesitated. “I didn’t think humans could smell it.”

Raven’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yeah, think about it. Did anyone else at Doom Kitty notice the smell?”

“No,” Raven said slowly. “No one. It was pretty strong, too.”

“Raven, what do you know about your dad?” Keelie held her breath, unsure how her friend would react to such a personal question.

“I never met him. Mom’s kind of relaxed about stuff like that. It’s always been the two of us. She always said it was a guy she’d partied with when she was young. I quit asking when I was ten or so. It didn’t seem important any more. Do you think my father was an elf?”

“I don’t think so. But maybe something else. I wish I could ask my dad. He’s got a lot of stuff going on, though, plus being sick.”

“Whatever’s going around is rough. Some of the shops are closing.”

Laurie came over to them, holding out her hand as if she had a three-karat diamond ring on her finger instead of a plain silver band carved with stars. “Don’t you love it?” Raven and Keelie both nodded.

Keelie stood up, dusting off her pickle pants. “I need to get back to Heartwood. I need to talk to Dad. Raven, could you run in and get my jeans and T-shirt? They’re under the clothes rack opposite the Plumpkin head. I’m afraid to go back in.”

Raven laughed. “You’re not afraid of much, but I’ll do it for you.” She marched off, black skirts swirling as she scooted through the door.

Keelie and Laurie watched and waited. No noise, no talking. Then suddenly, an outraged screech split the air. Raven appeared in the doorway like a bat in the air, seeming to fly, with Keelie’s jeans flung over her arm. “Run!”

They turned and ran full tilt down the path, laughing and dodging Faire patrons until they got to the picnic tables. They fell on the bench, out of breath, still laughing, then ducked behind them as Finch whizzed by in her very nonperiod golf cart.

“What happened?” Keelie grabbed her jeans and pulled off the pickle pants, not caring who saw her underwear. The rose quartz was a comforting lump in her jeans pocket.

“Holy shit,” Raven said. “Old Finch took one look at me and she fired up her furnace. You’d think Keelie’s jeans were part of her personal hoard. Did I ever tell you about when I was Jill-of-the-Faire?”

“You?” Keelie hooted. “Oh, you have to tell all.”

Raven waved both hands dismissively. “I can’t top you, girl. You’re going down in history as the worst Jill ever.”

Laurie laughed, too, but she looked wistful. No stories to share. Keelie finished changing clothes and they walked back to Heartwood, leaving the pickle outfit draped over the picnic table.

As soon as they turned down Enchanted Lane, Keelie knew something was wrong. No birds were singing. She lifted her head to study the treetops, but there were no bhata around. Lulu’s shop was shuttered, and there were just a few people walking down Enchanted Lane. Keelie opened her mind to the trees, to Tavak, but something blocked her.

“What’s wrong?” Raven was studying her expression.

“I don’t know.” Keelie ran to Heartwood, followed by her friends. It was closed. Dad wasn’t there, but Knot sat at the entrance, his fur bushed to maximum fluff. Tufts of white cat hair were everywhere. ”Did you have a fight with the white stray?”

“Heartwood, come here.”

Keelie froze. It was Finch. She’d caught up with them, or maybe she’d come for the money. Or was she here to tell Zeke everything herself? Raven slipped away, the white kitty at her heels.

Finch still looked like a human-dragon hybrid with a mean Viking aura, but she didn’t seem to be about to barbecue anyone. Instead, she looked worried, and Keelie did a double take when she saw Sir Davey standing next to her, his face also lined with concern.

“Okay, Davey there she is. I’ve got to get back to the office.” She sighed. “Now that I’ve got both the EPA and the CDC to worry about, the heat’s on.”

“The CDC? That’s the disease people,” Laurie whispered.

Keelie felt cold. “Sir Davey, where’s Dad?”

Davey seemed to consider his words. “He’s sicker than we all thought. He hid it from you and from me, lass.”

Keelie’s heart raced. “Where is he? He was fine this morning.” Except for the dark circles. Except for the fatigue.

“He’s with the others at the lodge.”

With Elia and the elves. He wasn’t safe there. “I’ve got to go to him. He needs to be here with me. I’ll take care of him.”

“What’s going on?” Raven reappeared as Finch left. “Is my mom okay?”

“Zeke has been quarantined with the others at the lodge. Janice is fine, Raven. The CDC is investigating the source of the illness, and they’re trying to identify it.”

Keelie knew her face was bleached white from fear.

“If the CDC runs tests on them, then—then it’s good because they can find out what’s going on,” Laurie spoke confidently. “They can be cured.”

Keelie met Davey’s eyes. Not good, if they found out they weren’t human.

Raven still looked worried. “What about the Faire workers, crafts people, and mundanes—are they in danger?”

“Some Faire workers have become sick, but it’s mostly the folks at the lodge,” Sir Davey answered. “Raven, the only ones still here and healthy from that, er, group, are Elianard, Elia, Lord Niriel, and Keelie.”

All the elves were sick. Every one. Keelie was only half elven, so that might explain how she was not affected, but it didn’t explain why Elia and Elianard looked better than ever. Lord Niriel, too. She wondered what the three had in common.

Raven raced out the door. “Keelie, I’m going to be right back. I need to make sure Mom is okay.”

“Sure.” Keelie heard a sneeze at ground level. Knot sneezed again and pawed at the door of the shop, then meowed.

Even though he didn’t talk to her the way he talked to her dad, she understood. He wanted to go inside.

Sir Davey watched Raven go. “Zeke says work needs to go on as normally as possible. He says it will create a diversion for you. He wants you to remember that you’re a Heartwood, and he needs for you to help with … .” He inclined his head across the lane.

Keelie understood. “But I want to go to him. How will I know he’s all right?”

Knot meowed again.

Sir Davey seemed hesitant to leave. “I’ll keep you informed. I’ll be back to check on you in an hour.”

“I’ll help you, Keelie.” Laurie put a hand on her arm. “I guess I get to be a working girl after all. This is going to shock my mom, and you know hardly anything shocks her.”

Despite everything going on, Keelie couldn’t help being totally surprised by Laurie’s offer. “Are you sure?”

“Hey, I heard working builds character.”

Keelie stepped into the shop and ran her hand across the wood of a nearby chair. Elm from Maine. She had to hold back the tears. “Dad.”

Now was not the time to fall apart. Knot went behind the counter and scratched at a small cupboard, to the right of the shelves, that held receipt books, pens, and binders of furniture designs. Keelie opened it, and Knot pawed at something inside.

She bent down and reached for the object. It was a cell phone, or what looked like a cell phone—a flat wooden box decorated with a silver filigreed tree. When Keelie opened the silver-hinged lid, embedded, rune-like symbols glowed green. She could feel the chlorophyll from inside it.

She tilted her head and looked at Sir Davey. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yep.” Sir Davey removed a small crystal from a leather bag tied to his belt. “It figures that Knot knew where he hid it.” He handed the crystal to Keelie. “This will boost your power signal. Zeke quit using it because it kept dropping calls.”

Keelie looked down at Knot. “I should kick you across the Faire for hiding this from me.”

Laurie leaned over the counter. “That doesn’t look like any cell phone I’ve ever seen. What company do you use?”

“Earth Network,” Sir Davey replied easily. “They’re an underground company working with natural resources. Zeke uses Northwest Sylvan.”

“Very eco-cool.” Laurie looked impressed. “So green.”

Knot placed a paw on Keelie’s arm, his claws hooked into her cotton shirt. She looked down at him. His eyes were totally dilated. He released her and pressed his paw on a spiral-shaped symbol.

The world tilted. Keelie closed her eyes; she felt like she was traveling through a portal of green. She was connected from forest to forest down the Appalachian Mountains. The feeling was similar to getting on Google and viewing satellite pictures. Images of forests flashed across her mind. And then she heard Sean’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Sean, is that you?”

“Keelie? Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

“I never got them, but we can talk about that later. I need your help. Everyone here is sick and the CDC is going to run tests on them. Everyone’s sick except me, Elianard, Elia, and your father.”

Laurie was watching Keelie with wide eyes. “Sean? The Sean?”

Keelie knew she couldn’t say anything about the unicorn in front of Laurie. She might already be saying too much.

“Keelie, you’ve got to stop the CDC. They cannot find out about us.” His voice sounded urgent.

“How can I?”

“Go to my father,” Sean insisted. “He’s the—

There was a sound like the rustling of leaves, and the plink of a harp string, then silence.

“Dropped call?” Laurie was sympathetic. “And after all that time, too.”

“You might say that.” Keelie put the wooden cell phone on the counter. “Guess we’d better get to work.”