two

“Lord Elianard!” Keelie stepped back, putting distance between herself and the elf lord. There was major-league bad history between them. “What are you doing here?”

“Your grandmother did me the honor of inviting me to your gathering,” Elianard said. “I could not refuse.” He held the door open and waited for Keelie to enter.

Revolted, she remembered him draining the life force from Einhorn, the unicorn guardian of the forest above the Wildewood Faire, using a powerful amulet that Einhorn later gave to Keelie for safekeeping. Even after Elianard failed to kill the unicorn, he’d shown no remorse, claiming that everything he’d done was for the benefit of the elves. She would be safer staying outside.

“Child, where have you been?” a stern voice said. It was Grandmother Keliatiel, the Lady of the Forest, the honcho elfin charge of all the trees and magic in the Dread Forest. The older woman stood beside Elianard, the same haughty expression on both their faces. The two elves glanced at one another knowingly, as if they’d been discussing Keelie. She wondered how her grandmother could bear to be so close to him. Didn’t she care? Keelie knew that Dad had told Keliatiel about what had happened in the Wildewood.

A wave of anger washing over her, Keelie stepped back, unwilling to submit to their superior attitudes. She quelled the urge to run, although it was appealing to think of getting away from her grandmother. And away from Elianard. She could camp in the Dread Forest with Ariel and Alora. As uncomfortable as it would be, it would be better than sticking around with these hypocrites. Keelie breathed deeply, sucking in the cool evening air, easing the anger that surged through her.

Something warm and furry rubbed up against her ankle, and calm filled her as claws snagged her soft leather boot. Then a very loud and comforting purring surrounded her, cushioning her in a bubble of warm, caramel sound. Knot had arrived. Keelie glanced down to see the oversized, pumpkin-colored cat sitting between her and Grandmother Keliatiel.

He blinked up at the elven elders, then thrust a leg straight up in the air and started to wash his backside with his pink tongue. Her so-called guardian and a major pain in the backside; Knot didn’t pussyfoot around.

Grandmother Keliatiel looked away, her nose wrinkled in disdain, and her heavy gaze settled back on Keelie. She felt trapped by her grandmother’s piercing green stare, and crossed her arms over chest, not that the gesture would protect her.

Keelie! Dad’s mental shout made her brain hurt.

“Dad, I’m here,” she said aloud. Keliatiel and Elianard exchanged another glance. They hadn’t heard her father’s call.

A moment later, Dad pushed Elianard aside and stepped outside. He looked like an elven prince tonight, with his light brown hair tied back so that his pointed ears swept up in graceful arcs, and he wore a long green riding tunic and hose, with boots that wrapped his slender legs in soft green to his knees. He enveloped her in a hug. “You took too long,” he whispered.

Dad’s strong arms made her feel safe and protected. She wished that all the others would disappear, that it could be just the two of them, as it had been in Colorado and New York. Their relationship was too new and too precious to share.

Grandmother’s gaze turned frosty. “Zekeliel, the child is wild enough without rewarding her for her abhorrent behavior.”

Dad’s arms stiffened, and he dropped them to his sides. “She is my daughter, Mother, and I will raise her as I see fit.”

Elianard made a tsk, tsk sound. “It’s exactly as I told you.”

“It’s worse,” Grandmother said. “But now is not the time or place to discuss this matter. We have guests, and Keliel has rudely kept them waiting at her own welcome gathering.”

Indignant, Keelie straightened, ready to tell her grandmother exactly what she’d learned here, when Dad placed his arm around her shoulder.

“She’s right,” he whispered. “Let’s go inside and greet your guests.”

Knot finally stopped his impromptu bath and walked in the door after them.

Grandmother Keliatiel pushed a foot into his path.

“Stop, fairy. You are not invited.”

Knot ignored her and sauntered past her, his tail held high. The kitty tail message was clear—kiss this.

Grandmother Keliatiel sighed. “Let us end this tiresome evening.”

For once, Keelie couldn’t agree with her grandmother more.

Inside the house, the scent of cinnamon was layered through savory food smells. Keelie’s stomach growled as she stepped into the tall-ceilinged great room of her grandmother’s home. This was where her father grew up, she realized. Every inch of space was crowded with the gathered elves, who ate and drank, their raised voices mingled with the sound of a flute playing softly somewhere by the main hallway on the other side of the room.

Keelie smiled stiffly at the suspicious and curious looks directed her way. She was an outsider here, worse than a stranger. A human. A half-human, anyway.

The guests held earthenware mugs and plates, reminding Keelie of the pottery she’d seen for sale at Renaissance Faires. She couldn’t believe that she actually felt a pang of homesickness for her father’s ridiculous curlicued wooden camper, perched on the back of his old pickup truck. Events were pretty grim if she was missing the Swiss Miss Chalet. She wanted to grab her Dad and run away to check out California’s Ren Faires, far from here.

Instead, she walked forward, trying to summon the fortitude to get her through this. Maybe she’d find Knot and hang out with him. Okay, now she knew she was desperate.

A familiar-looking elderly woman with long, straight silver hair was regarding her with a steady, unsmiling gaze. Keelie stared back. She could be rude, too. The woman winked, and then Keelie laughed.

“Do you remember me, child?”

“I do, but—”

“We met in the Wildewood. The Emergency Response Team?”

“Oh, yeah. The rescue rangers. I remember now. Etila…”

“Etilafael.”

“Right, thanks.” The elf woman had been wearing her hair in a severe knot when she’d led a team of elven healers through the disease-ravaged Wildewood, but Keelie remembered her words: I expect great things from you.

“What is your sense of the forest?” Etilafael was asking her. “Have you met the great trees of the Grove? The ones called the aunties?”

“I have met them, and they are caring for my treeling, Alora. I talked to a fir on the ridge earlier. He showed me the development at the base of the mountain.”

Etilafael frowned. “Unfortunate, that. The mayor of the human town has allowed construction to encroach on our forest borders.”

“Do the elves own the forest? I mean, legally?”

Just then Lord Niriel, Sean’s father, joined them, handsome in robes embroidered with the silver branch emblem of the jousting company he led. He bowed to Etilafael.

Keelie forced herself to relax. She wouldn’t show everyone how upset she was over Sean.

Lord Niriel didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong. “Keelie, I wish to welcome you formally to the Dread Forest. I see you’ve made the acquaintance of Lady Etilafael, the Council Head.”

Keelie glanced quickly at her new friend. The head of the Council?

Lady Etilafael winked at her again. “We were talking about the mayor’s project in the clearing. Keliel wondered if we owned the Dread Forest land.”

Lord Niriel’s face darkened. He turned to Keelie. “Elves have lived here for hundreds of years, long before men sliced up the land and sold it to each other. But we take care of our own. We own this forest, and many others. Each elven tribe is tied to their forest, and will die for it. We cannot be apart from our forest home for long.”

“Then how does my dad travel to all the Ren Faires? How do you do it, Lord Niriel?” Keelie knew they spent the entire summer going from faire to faire.

“Months are as days to us, you see. A summer is not a long time.”

The passage of time was another thing that made her different from the elves. For her, a summer was a long time. How many would she have in her life? Eighty? Ninety? If she was lucky.

Dad appeared at her side with an empty plate. He bowed to Etilafael and Niriel, then gave the plate to Keelie. “I bet you’re hungry.”

She nodded. “A little.” She curtseyed to the two elves, which felt natural in her long gown. She hoped Grandmother was watching.

Dad led her to the buffet table. She was grateful for his rescue, although talking about the forest had taken her mind off of Sean. The minute Dad had mentioned hunger she’d realized she was starving, but she wanted a huge order of spicy, tangy chicken wings and a bowl of creamy sauce to dip them in, not the rabbit food that was artfully arranged on platters on the table.

“When we get home, you can have a little something else.”

He’d gotten to know her well since they were reunited in Colorado. She was certain he hadn’t read her thoughts, since she’d been shielding her mind. As for his ability to communicate with her mentally, well, she had to work extra hard to block that. She’d been using the little tektite amulet Sir Davey had given her, which guarded against most types of unwanted mental communication.

“I hope Alora is still with the aunties. She wasn’t in my room. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Yes, she’s safe with them. She’s a great responsibility, I agree.” He smiled and nodded at a group of chatting ladies as he led her toward the buffet table. “You are doing an excellent job of caring for her.”

She was glad Alora was with the aunties, but there went her excuse to bail out early.

With Dad at her side, Keelie was greeted with guarded hellos. Other elves nodded their heads in formal acknowledgement, and she returned the courtesy. Earlier today, Grandmother had given her a dusty book to read on elven culture, full of descriptions of formal gestures. The minute she passed the elves, their talk returned to the upcoming harvest festival as if she’d never existed.

She spotted Sean and her heart started to beat with rapid hummingbird pulses. What would she do if he looked at her? She would not cry.

But she felt tears thicken her throat, and she took a deep breath and bit into a celery stick, examining it closely as she chewed.

From the edges of her vision she saw that Sean was walking toward her, smiling. He shone in the lamplight. Tall, blond, and handsome, he had been one of the jousters at her first Ren Faire, the kind of guy all the girls noticed. And he’d noticed her, Keelie.

He’d wanted to spend time with her.

He strode up to her, weaving in between elves until he was smiling down at her. The edges of his smile trembled a little, as if he were faking it. She wanted to run away.

“Welcome to the Dread Forest.” A few hours ago, those words would have seemed like a promise.

“Hi,” she managed to squeak out. This had to be the most miserable social moment of her life.

“How was training today?” Dad asked from the opposite side of the table, where he was loading a plate with watercress and cucumber sandwiches. He sounded totally normal.

He doesn’t know, Keelie thought. He would have warned me.

“It was tough. We’re implementing some new routines,” Sean said.

Zeke nodded and eyed a selection of cheeses. “Your father said he found a medieval training manual full of interesting exercises.”

Sean’s face lit up. “Yes, and we’re almost done with the new forge. We’ll be producing broadswords first.”

This was like guys talking about sports, except with elves it was swords. Why couldn’t Sean just leave? She didn’t dare step away from her father. At least with him around, Sean wouldn’t want a private talk.

“I’ll be on hand when your father begins folding the new leaves,” Dad said, referring to the way steel blades were strengthened at the forge.

The elves nearby nodded solemnly, and a few of them glanced quickly at Grandmother Keliatiel. Keelie wondered what those looks meant.

Sean’s eyes widened with surprise. “It will be an honor to have you there.”

She hoped it wasn’t a duty she’d have to be a part of. It sounded hot and dirty, and she didn’t think she could take the sight of Sean making swords, maybe stripped to the waist, all hot and sweaty. Of course, elves didn’t sweat. But still, he’d be hot.

Keelie tingled all the way from the top of her head down to her toes. Her body was a total traitor, too. Sean belonged to someone else—so stop with the excited tingles, she told herself.

Dad leaned across the table and handed the plate of watercress sandwiches to her. “Hungry?”

She took the plate and stared dismally at the greenfilled sandwiches.

Someone bumped into Sean and he turned to see who’d crashed into him.

A curvy red-headed elf girl smiled up at him, bright green eyes twinkling. “You can bump into me anytime,” she said, flipping back a lock of long, curly hair. She had hoochie stamped all over her, from the super-tight satin dress that emphasized her teeny-tiny waist to her overflowing cleavage.

Sean’s eartips turned bright red. Keelie’s heart dropped. This was her.

The elf girl’s amused gaze turned to Keelie. “Sean darling, aren’t you going to introduce me to your round-eared friend?”

Sean frowned at the girl. “Keelie, this is Risa.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Keelie’s words came out so frosty that it was as if she’d actually added, not really.

Dad made a choking sound as he tried to swallow.

Risa placed her hands on her hips. “Have you heard? Sean and I are betrothed.”

“How lucky for both of you.” Keelie pulled her lips away from her teeth, hoping it looked like a smile.

Grandmother Keliatiel drifted over. “Oh good, Keliel, you’ve met Risa. You young people should all get together.”

Keelie barely managed to nod her head. She bit into one of the watercress sandwiches, then almost gagged when she realized what she’d done.

Risa placed her hand against her mouth and giggled. “I was telling your granddaughter that Sean and I are betrothed.”

Sean did not meet Keelie’s eyes, which were starting to feel itchy and hot. She would not cry in front of all these elves.

Risa leaned into Sean and placed her hand against his shoulder. Sean did not move away. Keelie swallowed hard.

A stout elf with a small pointed beard put an arm on Risa’s shoulder and bowed to Keelie. “Lady Keliel, welcome to the forest. I am Hamriel, Risa’s father. I farm the south face of the mountain. The vegetables we eat tonight are from my fields.” He smiled fondly at his daughter, tugging her toward him. She stuck to Sean and glared at Keelie. His smile grew forced. “Risa farms as well. She is noted for her prowess with green things. Her melons are famous.”

Keelie choked out, “How do you do?” She bowed in return, noting that Risa did not let go of Sean although her father clearly wanted her to do so.

Dad walked around the table and took her plate out of her hands and put it down.

“Come, Keliel, there’s someone I want you to meet.” When she didn’t move he tugged on her elbow. “Keelie?” His voice lowered. “Just walk away.”

She heard him, but she couldn’t move. Her feet were frozen to the floor, and her eyes were locked on the betrothed pair. She imagined picking up her drink and throwing it into the girl’s face. Or tossing the dish of messy, smelly cheeses at her.

She wondered how much of her thoughts were visible on her face. Dad was looking worried. Then a movement by the front window caught her eye—Knot, stalking some imaginary prey. He must have sensed her stare, because he stopped and turned to look at her.

She looked right into his eyes and thought hard. She kept trying to project her thoughts until his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, flashing kitty fang in laughing appreciation.

Keelie smiled at her father. “Dad, chill. I’m fine, really.” And she was. Knot was on the job.

She followed her father to the other side of the room, not even looking back at the so-called happy couple.

Moments later a stifled scream and concerned murmurs made everyone turn.

Risa’s dress had split all the way up the front, exposing her underwear. Two fat white circles lay on the buffet table—Risa’s cleavage. Keelie coughed to cover her laugh. So much for the famed melons. Her grandmother and several guests were busily trying to cover the distraught girl. Sean was looking either mortified or as if he was about to break into laughter.

“Well done, Round Ear. What did you do to her?” The sweet whisper in her ear made Keelie freeze. She turned her head just a little. Sure enough, her old adversary, Elia— Elianard’s beautiful, haughty daughter—was standing close enough to kiss her cheek.

“Me? Not a thing.” Keelie straightened. Elia was still looking at the disaster scene and now her eyes widened. A long, fluffy orange tail stuck out from under the tablecloth.

“Oops. Excuse me while I, ah, get another sandwich.” Keelie raised an eyebrow. “You want anything?”

Elia blinked slowly, letting her golden lashes rest on her porcelain cheeks for a split second. “I want exactly what you want, Keliel Heartwood.”

“Tough,” Keelie replied, not believing a word of what Elia said. Then she put a hand to her mouth. “Oops. Did I just say that?”

Across the room Risa was glaring at them, her eyes in slits as she looked from Keelie to Elia.

“Oh, if gazes were daggers we’d be dead, Keliel,” Elia purred. “Act like you’re my friend.”

Friend? Elia didn’t even qualify as an enemy. Keelie wished she’d never met the vain, self-centered, and dangerous elf girl, but she knew that Elia just wanted to mess up Risa’s head even more. And right now, Keelie wanted that as well. She was ready. The two girls put their arms around each other’s waists and smiled back at Risa, who was now wrapped in a borrowed, oversized robe. Several of the elf women looked startled to see Keelie and Elia standing so close together. Keelie’s father did a double take.

Good. Let them all guess.

“I’ve had about as much fun as I’m going to tonight.”

Keelie pulled her arm free and turned away.

Elia grabbed her long sleeve and tugged her close again. “Don’t leave yet. Stick around.”

“She’s all yours. I’m going to bed.” Keelie felt queasy. She must look bad if even Elia was trying to make her feel better. No wait, that couldn’t be. This was Elia.

Someone was plucking a lively tune on a harp, and Keelie jumped. Harps always signaled bad magic.

“Relax. Mine broke, remember?” Elia hissed.

Keelie didn’t relax. Elia’s magic had been potent.

Dad was with his mother, who was trying to soothe Risa, now surrounded by a crowd of sympathetic onlookers. Keelie headed toward the door, eager to slip outside.

“Now you’ve had your fun, so you’re sneaking out, Keliel?” Risa’s raised voice stopped the party noise. She was stalking toward Keelie, her hands clenched like claws.

Keelie faced her red-faced rival. “I’ve done nothing to harm you, Risa.” If she took one step closer, she’d clock the wench.

The elf girl pulled the borrowed bathrobe tighter around her body. “You think you’re so important, don’t you. Tree Shepherd. Granddaughter of the Lady of the Forest. But for all that, what are you really? You just appear out of nowhere and suddenly you can do magic and talk to the trees.”

Faces turned from one girl to the other, as if evaluating them. They didn’t look shocked, and Keelie wasn’t surprised. Maybe Risa was just saying what they had thought all along. Keelie felt her expression freeze, her cheeks cold and stiff as if made out of clay.

“Why would I hurt you, Risa? This is my party.”

Risa screamed, and threw a platter of sandwiches at her. Keelie ducked and it hit the window draperies behind her. “You’re evil,” Risa shrieked. “Round Ears sent you to destroy us. Your so-called family is under a spell. You aren’t related to them. Changeling!”

The chick had gone psycho. Grandmother’s face was pale with shock. Dad was pushing his way through the crowd toward Keelie.

A mighty bang thundered through the room, making the windows rattle. Etilafael swept forward, a tall crystalencrusted staff in one hand. “This will cease,” she commanded. “Such behavior. Lord Hamriel, remove your daughter from this house.”

Lord Hamriel scuttled forward, head bowed apologetically. “Lady Keliatiel, a thousand pardons. I don’t know what has come over my beloved daughter. High strung, you know.”

“I am not!” Risa cried. She started to sob. “She thinks she can have my fiancé, too. Just look at her.”

Knot jumped up onto the table, his puffed-out tail swishing back and forth like a pumpkin-colored toilet brush.

Risa’s eyes squinted almost shut. “I hate cats. And you are no cat. It was you who destroyed my pumpkins last year with fairy magic.”

She picked up a pitcher of honey wine and threw it at him. The pitcher’s handle caught on a tray and tumbled across the table, drenching Knot in sticky, honey-scented wine. His back arched and he hissed at her, swatting the air with an extended paw that seemed to have claws like hypodermic needles. Seconds later he vanished, leaving a puddle of honey wine on the table where he’d stood.

Keelie took advantage of the commotion and slipped outside. Elia was leaning against the rough stone of the outer wall, laughing.

“That was perfect. How did Knot destroy her gown so thoroughly?” She bent over, trying to catch her breath. She waved at the air in front of her face, as if trying to waft more oxygen close.

“It wasn’t funny. No one in that room will ever forget that scene. And it was supposed to be my party, too.” Keelie tried to frown, but a smile split her face. “Did you see her bra stuffing on the table like two biscuits?” She laughed, setting Elia off again. The two held on to each other, howling, tears streaming down their faces.

“Hrm.” Elianard had followed them outside, and was now clearing his throat to get their attention. A frown furrowed his aristocratic face. “Elia, it is time to go home.”

Elia wiped her face with the palms of her hands. “Good evening to you, Keliel of the Honey Wine.”

Keelie snorted. “And good night to you as well, Elia of the Snarky Comments.”

Moments later, Knot was at her side, his fur dry and soft as if the whole incident had been her imagination.

“Well done, Snot,” Keelie said, aiming a kick at Knot’s rear. He purred like an outdoor motor and moved faster to avoid her boot. Weird kitty. He didn’t like to be loved on, saving his purrs for when she threatened him.

She looked toward the ridge. Was the boy still out there? If he was, he’d be in for a long, cold night. It got chilly here after dark. It was a hike to get out there, but maybe she’d run into him again. She shook her head. What was she thinking? She’d had enough of boys for one night. She detoured past the aunties to pick up Alora.

“Let me stay longer, please?” The little treeling spoke aloud instead of telepathically (or in what Keelie called “tree speak”). Alora was in a new, larger terra-cotta pot that would accommodate her spreading root system. The magical acorn had grown quickly on their trip from New York to Oregon, much to Keelie’s dismay.

“Nope. Time to get inside.”

Thank you, Great Ones, for sharing your knowledge with Alora. Keelie knew that they probably were aware that they were called the aunties, but she didn’t want to offend them.

All is well, Tree Shepherdess. The treeling learns much.

Yeah. Keelie moved her skirts aside and picked up the heavy clay pot. The treeling glittered in the moonlight, its branches hung with just about every earring and bracelet that Keelie owned; this was all thanks to her friend Laurie, who had gotten Alora hooked on her own love of sparkly jewels during the trip. In Portland, Keelie and Dad had put Laurie on a train to California, and now she was safe at home in Los Angeles, Keelie’s old home, while Keelie was stuck in the north woods with a potted princess and a lying, cheating, scuzzbag former boyfriend.

She lugged Alora home, tripping over her skirts in the dark. The whole way, Alora complained about the salt content of Keelie’s tears.