five

“So, are you ready for your lesson? We won’t go far, just to the forge.” Niriel gestured toward the long buildings that housed the forge and stables.

“I’m not sure about this, Keelie.” Dad looked worried. “You don’t have to do this today. You’ve had a lot of upsets.”

“I’m fine.” Disgusted with herself, Keelie marched toward the path.

Niriel arched his eyebrow at her father as she passed him. “Problems?”

“No,” Dad said.

She was grateful to Dad, and a sense of protectiveness toward him welled up in her. She didn’t want to embarrass him in front of Niriel. She didn’t want Sean or Risa to hear that she couldn’t handle a lesson. She would trudge forward and do this, even if she just wanted to return to the woods with Ariel.

“Let’s get started,” she said.

Niriel caught up with her, and together they walked toward the forge. “How was your Lore lesson?” His voice was deep and smooth. He looked and sounded like a movie star, but Keelie didn’t trust him.

“It was okay.” Okay like a snore fest.

The sound of clashing steel came from inside the forge, along with shouts and laughter. Sean was probably in there. A few weeks ago she would have been antsy, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Today he was Risa’s fiancé and she hoped he stayed inside.

“As you are aware, the forge is where the young men work metal, each making his own sword and jousting armor. We’ll stay out here.”

They sat on a great tree root, and Niriel launched into a long and boring lecture about the various metals in a sword. Keelie felt her eyes getting heavier and heavier as he droned on, but came fully awake with a start as he said, “And now Keelie Heartwood, you’ll begin your first lesson.”

He stood up and drew a gleaming silver sword, as long as her arm, from the scabbard he was carrying. “Take it.” He tossed the scabbard aside.

She got up carefully and held out her hand, wondering if the sword would zap her like in the movies. Or maybe hundreds of armed men would come at her, screaming, from the woods. Instead, her fingers closed around the warm brown hilt. It was made from a piece of leather, and crisscrossed hundreds of times with a black silk cord to make a firm, hard surface.

She lifted the sword’s tip, then dropped it again. It was a strange feeling, but exciting. She suddenly wanted to learn how to use this weapon. She whirled to face Niriel, and he backed quickly away.

She laughed. “Sorry. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“There are rules, Keliel, about the wielding of live steel.”

She studied the blade. She knew he meant that the sword blade was naked, unsheathed, but it seemed to her that the sword might indeed be alive.

“I’m ready, Lord Niriel.”

But she wasn’t ready for the swift attack. His sword was out and at her throat, cold and hard, a second later. How had he moved so quickly?

She felt the sharpness on her skin a little longer, and then he released her. She stumbled forward, her own useless weapon drooping in her nerveless fingers.

“You must always be prepared for an attack, Keliel. You must hold the sword up, not like some wilting lily, and balance on your feet so that you are prepared to move, to react, without thought, without clumsiness.”

She watched him leap back, then stand, knees slightly bent, eyes focused on her, a predatory smile on his face. She licked her dry lips. He’d gone from cool, handsome elf lord to dangerous animal.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

He stood taller, and the animal grace dropped like a discarded cloak. “Come now, where’s the brave girl who led the charge into the Wildewood, who rescued Lord Einhorn? She wasn’t afraid.”

“She didn’t have to use a sword, either.” His words did make her feel stronger. She lifted the sword, which was heavy and awkward. She had a new appreciation for the swordsmen she’d seen at the faire. They made it look so easy, but this was like carrying a giant butter knife. A sharp one.

For the next hour, Niriel led her in exercises. They moved forward and backward, and she always kept the sword up, not letting it flag. When they stopped, her thighs, right arm, and shoulders were on fire.

“When do I get to hit something?” she asked, panting and leaning against a tree (oak, a young sapling).

“Oh, now we’re bloodthirsty.” Niriel grinned. “You can practice against a dummy, but not yet. I don’t want you to fracture a bone or rupture a muscle. Little by little.” He tilted his head. “I didn’t think that Zekeliel’s daughter would have the makings of a fighter, but you’re swift, and you catch on to the moves quickly for a—” he paused.

“For a girl?” she supplied. “Or for a Round Ear?”

He rolled his eyes. “I was going to say, for a city dweller.”

“Oh.” Embarrassed that she’d accused him of sexism and racism, she studied the handle of her sword, remembering her lesson on its parts. The pommel was the round thing at the end, and it balanced the long part, the blade. The hilt, the part she held, was made of strong wood with steel running through it. “Is this a broadsword?”

“Yes. It does not have a basket hilt to protect your hand, and its blade is long and two-edged all the way to the hilt. This is a light one, for practice. When you have learned more, if you wish to continue, I’ll let you use a heavier one.”

Heavier than this? It was torture just to lift the thing a few inches.

“Tired, aren’t you? We’ll put our swords away and practice again in a couple of days. You might want to rub liniment in your shoulder tonight.”

“Thanks, I’ll see if Dad has any. Can I keep the sword tonight?”

Niriel’s eyebrows rose. Maybe he thought she was going to murder his son. Or him. He shrugged. “Of course you may. Wipe it down tonight before you go to bed, and don’t let it get wet or it will rust.”

“Thanks.” She took a deep breath. “It was fun.” There. That had hurt more than her shoulder.

Niriel nodded gravely. “You must learn our ways, Keliel, but it doesn’t have to be torture, you know. This is a big step. Your father will be pleased.”

She noted that he didn’t mention her grandmother.

Later that afternoon, Keelie sat on the ridge watching the construction going on below by the road. Above her, Ariel cried out as if warning all the songbirds she was hungry.The discovery that the hawk could fly, “seeing” the world through the trees’ vision, had eased Keelie’s stress and guilt.

“You’ll never catch anything that way,” she called to Ariel, rubbing her shoulder. Her arm ached from the sword fighting.

She leaned back against the nearest tree (hemlock) and smiled down at the tiny people at the construction site. She imagined them as tiny people living on a puppet stage, even though they were normal-sized humans and very far away from her life in the woods with the elves.

The harvest festival was only weeks away. She couldn’t wait to see Sir Davey again. The festival wouldn’t be anything like a Renaissance Faire, but it would be fun to walk around the town in costume. She couldn’t wait to carve a pumpkin.

Her right hand smoothed out the soil in a small area, pushing aside leaves and sticks, and then her finger began to trace a design in the earth. A spiral, starting small, grower wider. A tickle on her arm drew her attention. It was a bhata, crawling down the bark of the tree. It walked slowly into the clear circle and seemed to examine her drawing.

Keelie waited, examining the little creature, wondering if it was the one who had accompanied her from New York. She called the bhata the stick fairies, because they seemed to be a collection of sticks and moss and berries. Sir Davey said that they were air spirits who used bits of the forest to make themselves a body. Knot liked to tear them apart. They always put themselves back together again. And then they’d chase Knot, pinching and poking him with their stick limbs. She’d even seen a bhata ride Knot like a cowboy.

She reached a fingertip out and touched one of the thin branch pieces that served as a leg for this one. It didn’t seem to notice as it concentrated on the symbol.

Ariel called from above, pulling Keelie out of her trancelike state.

“I just about hypnotized myself looking at one of those,” she said aloud.

The bhata turned sideways and cocked a scrap of moss to one side like a bad toupee.

“I’m just saying. Call it a warning among friends.” She leaned forward to smooth away the design, but the bhata, moving incredibly fast, stopped her by poking a stick between her fingers.

“Ouch.” Keelie drew her hand back and stared at the red spot in the tender webbing between her fingers. A drop of blood welled up. “You hurt me.”

The bhata turned from her and went back to staring at the concentric circle in the dirt. Keelie ignored it and squeezed her wound, wondering how much blood she could make ooze out. Crazy stick thing.

“You’re hurt. Did you cut yourself?”

She looked up, startled. The boy she’d seen sleeping the evening before stood a few feet away, watching her warily.

“Hey. I didn’t hear you come up. I just cut myself a little.” He was fast and quiet. She angled her body so that he wouldn’t see the bhata. Not that many humans ever noticed them, but she was acting more and more like a tree shepherd. “Do you live near here?”

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving her face. Or was he staring at her hand? She covered it with the hem of her oversized sweater.

“I saw you the other day. Sleeping under the dead tree over there.” Keelie gestured toward it. “Were you okay?”

He cleared his throat, and a spasm crossed his face. “Er, yes. I’m fine.”

Keelie didn’t think he looked fine. He held his arms stiffly at his sides, his fists clenched.

Ariel called again. Keelie glanced up to make sure the hawk was nearby. She had caught a thermal and was circling high over the town.

The boy looked in the same direction. “Your bird seems to be safe.” He lowered his gaze back to her hand, but then quickly lifted his head and focused on her. He smiled a little and stepped closer. “I think we need to introduce ourselves, since we keep running into each other in the forest. My name is Jake. What’s yours?”

“Keelie.” She wondered whether she should back away. Jake was one strange guy.

Knot appeared from beneath some ferns growing near the rock. Keelie wondered how long he’d been sitting there. He plunked himself down beside Keelie’s foot and proceeded to wash his leg.

The boy nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Keelie. Do you live around here?” He gestured toward town.

Even though Jake was cute, she didn’t think it was safe to let him know where she lived. But then Knot sauntered over and began rubbing his head against Jake’s jean-clad leg. Maybe the cat was giving her the he’s okay sign.

“Yeah, I do. I live just over there with my Dad and Grandmother.” She motioned with her chin in the direction of the elf village. It wouldn’t hurt for Jake to know her family was nearby.

Knot rubbed his head up and down Jake’s leg with vigorous enthusiasm. Jake smiled a little.

“So, are you a hiker? Camper?” Keelie asked.

He glanced behind him, as if he’d left his gear in plain sight.

“You don’t have to worry,” she said quickly. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here. Is someone coming back to pick you up?”

“No.” He looked at her for a second, and his expression changed, as if he’d come to a decision. “I’m not a hiker,” he confessed. “I’m hiding here.”

Knot now sat beside Jake. The cat lifted his head as if giving him the once over.

“Hiding?” She fought the urge to scoot backward. “As in, from the police, or are you a runaway?”

“I got into some stuff I shouldn’t have. Not drugs or anything,” he added. “I just need a place to stay, get my head together before I make some big life decisions. Being away from people and in the forest helps center me.”

Keelie understood about getting your head together. She needed to get away from people too. However, she was never alone when she was around the trees.

Ariel called from a nearby red alder. Keelie watched as her claws dug for purchase in the branches. The hawk balanced herself on the branch as a soft wind blew through the leaves.

“She’s lucky to have you look after her,” Jake said.

When Keelie turned around, Knot was sitting on top of Jake’s foot. The cat purred, super loud. That was new.

Relieved, Keelie relaxed. She believed Jake. “You’re all wet. I’ve got to get back, but I’ll bring you some dry clothes and a blanket, and some food. My dad made lentil stew. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“I’ve got plenty to eat, but the clothes would be awesome.” He smiled, then looked up quickly, staring at the spot where ferns bordered the stream.

Keelie turned to look and was surprised to see Elia step out from behind a tree. The elf girl must have followed her out here. Keelie turned to reassure Jake, but he was gone. Knot was exactly in the same place and blinked up at Keelie, his whiskers twitching.

Jake must run track at his high school.

Keelie looked around again, but the only things in sight were her sword and the gauntlet she used to carry Ariel on her arm. Knot had disappeared, too.

“Who was that?” Elia was staring into the crowded trees along the top of the ridge.

Annoyed, Keelie didn’t answer. Instead, she picked up the gauntlet and Ariel’s jesses, which were under the heavy leather glove.

“Well, aren’t you going to answer me? He looked human but something about him was different.” Elia sounded thoughtful. “I wonder how he can stand the Dread. The others must know that a human penetrated this far. Everyone will be quite alarmed. I must tell Father.”

“Please don’t tell him,” Keelie said. “His name is Jake, and he’s not going to hurt anyone. He’s running away from home and hiding here.”

Elia stared at her. “Don’t be stupid. The Dread is the only thing that keeps humans from trashing this forest the way they destroy everything they touch.” She motioned toward the construction site. “This is serious, Keelie. Look at how close they are. If we lose the Dread, nothing will stop them from building up against our land. We won’t be able to keep the humans out.”

She was right. And Keelie hadn’t missed the fact that Elia was talking to her normally, not putting on snooty elfprincess airs. Now wasn’t the time to mention Elia’s role in the attack on Wildewood’s unicorn, but that was a conversation that had to happen—and soon.

“I know. But give Jake a couple of days before you tell your dad, okay? I want him to have a chance.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know about anything anymore.” Elia sat on a fallen log. She spread her skirts around her, still posing even where only Keelie and the trees could see her. “I will consider it. Why are you defending this Jake?”

“Because he looks so lost.” Keelie hadn’t meant for the words to sound so wistful, but Elia caught it right away.

“You identify with him. Not because he’s human, but because he’s alone in a hostile place.”

“You sound like an old woman giving advice. Or did you get your psychology degree?” Keelie thought about all of Dad’s college degrees.

“You forget that in human years, I am an old woman.” Elia smiled a little at the face Keelie made. “And Sean is older than me. You may have guessed that I wasn’t thrilled to learn that he and Risa are betrothed.”

“I kind of got that. But what I don’t get is why Risa? Why not you?”

Elia’s perfect posture melted. “It has something to do with the fact that Risa’s mother is a brood mare. Risa has three brothers—four children—that’s huge for an elven family.” Elia pressed her hand against her chest. “I’m an only child.”

One Elia is enough for this planet, Keelie thought.

“This boy sounds intriguing.” Elia gazed into the woods where Jake had disappeared. “Can you introduce me to him?”

“I just met him. I saw him asleep in the forest yesterday and ran into him again. I think he must live in town.”

Elia nodded as if she understood, but she looked disappointed. “From town. I thought he might be a traveler.”

“Well, I’m not sure he’s totally human. For one thing, the Dread doesn’t bother him. It’s fading, but it’s still plenty strong.” Keelie squeezed her rose quartz for comfort.

They sat in companionable silence. Knot rubbed his head against Keelie’s leg. She kept a wary eye on him.

“How did your Lore lesson go today?” Elia asked.

“It was a challenge for both of us.”

Knot climbed up into Keelie’s lap and curled up into a round ball, tucking his head into his chest. This was scary—a loving Knot and a friendly Elia. Something was wrong with this picture.

As if sensing her discomfort, Knot stretched a paw out and sank his claws into Keelie’s leg. “Ow!”

“What?” Elia asked.

“Nothing.”

Elia looked at Knot and wrinkled her nose. “Better you than me.”

Keelie removed Knot’s claws from her pants leg. He purred.

Ariel called to Keelie. She flew from the red alder to a Western hemlock. Keelie sensed a warm and caring personality from the tall tree. Ariel would be safe in the branches.

“Your hawk seems to be doing well.”

Keelie glared at the elf girl. “Some nerve. You’re the one who blinded her. Why don’t you remove the spell?”

Elia bowed her head and sighed. “I can’t. If I try, I’m afraid it will rebound on me.”

“Rebound on you? What do you mean?” Keelie asked.

“If I take the curse from Ariel, then the magic has to go somewhere.”

Keelie didn’t understand.

“For every magical action, there is an equal reaction. If I remove this particular dark curse, then it will return to me. I will become blind.”

“There’s no way of breaking it?” Keelie wasn’t shocked. Her father had told her as much soon after Elia had blinded Ariel using magic beyond her skill level. No one had been able to lift the curse.

“Father has been searching all the lore books. We haven’t found any answers.”

“So Elianard has been searching for a way to break the curse?” That seemed hard to believe.

A loud buzzing came from the ferns underneath the alder tree.

Elia nodded and turned away. Her voice softened. “I found the curse in a book on dark magic. Father had always warned me not to use it, but I wanted to hurt you. Make you go away.” Elia swung her head around, her face serious. “Remember this Keelie—the rules matter.”

The buzzing became louder, and the ferns rustled with activity. A bhata climbed up the trunk of the red alder.

Knot swished his tail back and forth. He jumped up from Keelie’s lap and ran toward the leafy undergrowth beneath the alder tree. The buzzing noise stopped and was replaced by a screeching.

Knot appeared with a bug fairy dangling from his mouth. The fairy kicked the cat with its back legs. Knot growled. The bug fairy went limp. Knot trotted down the path, his orange tail held high. Looked like it was going to be curtains for an unfortunate bug fairy.

“You know, if you give Father a chance, you’ll learn a lot about the elves and the magic,” Elia said.

“I don’t know.” The thought of being nice to Elianard wasn’t a good one.

“Let’s make a deal. I won’t tell anyone about Jake for a few days—if you promise to give Father a chance. He’s a wonderful Lore Master. No one knows more than he does about the history, the culture, the legends of our people. He can help you with your magic, too. Go to class just until the harvest festival.”

Keelie didn’t know if she could tolerate Elianard that long, but if it bought Jake a little more time, she would try.

“Okay! But you promise not to say anything about Jake.”

Elia smiled. “Good. He can tell you about the old days.”

“I heard a lot about the old days this morning.”

Elia stretched out her arms, taking in the whole forest. “The old days were when the elves came here and settled in this area. Three hundred years ago, your grandmother brought her young sons to live in the forest when they were just little guys.”

Keelie stared at Elia. “Three hundred years ago?” That’s how old dad had said he was. There wasn’t even a United States three hundred years ago. The colonies barely existed. Was everyone pulling her leg?

Then she realized what else Elia had said: Grandmother Keliatiel had brought her young sons to live in the forest. Dad was one.

What happened to the other one?