Into the Wildewood (29 page)

“Yeah, how about that. Must be wireless.” Keelie poked at a couple of the buttons. The machine whirred like an insect.

The green-gowned woman came to the counter. “Can you have that large dollhouse in back delivered?”

“Sure,” Keelie said, then stopped. She’d heard her father make shipping arrangements, but didn’t know what to do next.

“Allow me.” Raven pushed her gently aside. “Cash or charge?”

With Raven in control, Keelie went to the rear of the shop to see if Laurie needed help. She felt much better, thanks to Janice’s herbal infusion. The woman in violet stopped her.

“This is darling. Did you make them?” She held one of the smaller dollhouses in her arms.

“No, my dad’s the woodworker. Let me get you a box.” Keelie went to the back to grab one from the small pile Dad always kept for customers. As she picked one out, a tree branch moved through the high, open window and touched her arm. Moving trees no longer freaked her out, a sure sign that she was no longer California Keelie.

“It’ll be okay,” she told the tree, patting its rough branches. She lied. She had no idea what to do, and Raven couldn’t push her aside and help with this one. She needed Dad. The elves were sick, the unicorn was sick, and two government agencies were crawling all over the Faire site. She couldn’t figure out how or if it was all connected.

She grabbed a box and started back to the front, where she packed the dollhouse while Raven took the woman’s card. She ran it through the machine, and a receipt printed up. Thanks to the Bank of the Dread Forest, they were in business.

The woman signed the receipt with a wooden pen. “It’s hard to find such enchanting, old-fashioned toys.”

Raven laughed. “One thing the Heartwoods can certainly do is bring out the enchantment in wood.”

The blonde lady in green exclaimed over a bag of cylindrical building blocks, and added them to her purchase.

Despite the chlorophyll wooziness, Keelie felt proud of her work. Her shoulders ached a little from all the sawing, but she’d made a contribution to the family budget. She couldn’t wait to tell Dad. She blinked back tears and stepped behind a column so that the others wouldn’t see.

“My best friend is going to have a baby,” the woman said, pulling her wallet out again. “And she’s going to love these blocks.”

Laurie took her credit card. “You know, out in L.A. these would go for triple this amount. Your friend is going to totally love these.”

Raven packed them in a brown paper bag with a raffia handle.

Knot left the adoring women, and padded over to Keelie. He placed his paw on her hand, then hopped off the counter and walked outside. He stopped at an oak tree, stretched up, and sharpened his claws on the bark. The oak tree lifted a root and kicked at him.

Darn that cat. After all the work to keep the oaks asleep. Keelie glanced quickly at the women, certain one of them must have seen the movement. They were still fussing over their purchases.

A small
bhata
climbed down the tree trunk, looking like a woodland marionette made of branches and held together by moss. Knot’s tail bushed out and he hissed at it. It tilted its face of leaves and examined him with its berry eyes.

One of the women glanced at Keelie, then followed her gaze and gasped. She pointed at the
bhata
, looking right at it. “What an amazing puppet.”

The woman could see the
bhata
. This was totally wrong. Adults never saw fairies.

“Wow, I’ve never seen anything like that.” Laurie’s mouth dropped open.

Keelie groaned. Laurie, too. Then she noticed that Raven was staring at the creature in awe, probably the only one who had an idea of what this really was.

Keelie remembered what Dad said about diverting humans who saw magic. “That’s a new puppet design my dad is working on. It’s still in the planning stages, so it’s not for sale.”

“I don’t see any strings, and it’s so lifelike.” The violet-gowned woman clasped her hands together in delight. “How do you make them?”

“It’s a trade secret. Dad’s applied for a patent.” Keelie walked carefully toward the tree, a hand outstretched toward the
bhata
, which seemed to be waiting for her.

“It’s like primitive art, but yet, so real.” The lady in blue squinted, trying to see strings or rods.

“You’re sure you don’t have any for sale?” The green lady searched for an overlooked basket of
bhata
puppets.

Keelie shook her head. “Like I said, they’re still in development.” She lowered her hand and allowed the
bhata
to climb up her sleeve. It clung to her shoulder and patted her cheek with its stick hand.

“Wow.” The blue-gowned woman grinned at her friends. She turned back to Keelie. “Do you have a mailing list?”

Knot meowed and vanished under the counter. They heard scrabbling sounds, then a thump. Raven glanced down at her feet, then leaned over and reappeared with a blank notebook.

“Here you go. Name, address, phone, and email, please.”

Laurie seemed to be torn between looking at the
bhata
and watching for Knot, who was still under the counter with the supplies. “That cat should be in the movies.”

As the ladies lined up at the book to scribble down their contact information, Raven gave Keelie a look over their heads. A “you have got to fill me in on the real truth” kind of look.

Keelie rolled her eyes. The
bhata
climbed onto her head and then leaped up and vanished into the shop’s exposed rafters, blending in with the dark wood.

“This place is wonderful,” the violet woman told the blue one.

The blue lady nodded emphatically. “We’ll have to come back next year, and bring all of our friends.”

After they’d left, laden with boxes and bags, Laurie and Raven high-fived and danced around the counter. Keelie looked at the totals. “In the last hour, we’ve managed to make close to two thousand dollars.”

“Not bad for an hour’s work.” Laurie looked satisfied. “You can pay back the evil Finch person.”

Raven reached up with a finger, and the
bhata
leaned down from the rafters. Red berries popped out of the moss-wrapped jumble that formed its face, giving it a lopsided berry smile. Raven smiled back. “Keelie, what is this?”

“Yeah.” Laurie looked out the open front of the shop. “I think you need to explain some of this Faire stuff to me, because I think I see an oak tree walking across the lane. That’s either serious animatronics, which—don’t get me wrong—I don’t think your dinky Faire can afford, or we’ve all been fed hallucinogenic tea.”

Keelie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, no.” An oak tree was indeed heaving itself across the lane. She gripped the pine counter. Several mundanes had gathered to watch the walking oak, probably thinking it was a performance.

Keelie rushed out of the shop and ran up to the trees, summoning up energy and magic. Her magical encounter with Elia yesterday had drained her, and the magic she’d used to keep the trees asleep was falling apart.

She closed her eyes and opened her mind.
Tavak, can you hear me?
Keelie allowed the tree to see into her mind and what was happening with the oak.

Create a shield. Channel your energy.

Keelie didn’t think she had much energy left, but she pushed her hands toward the trees and felt for the slow-moving core of forest magic she had discovered deep inside of herself. Green energy flowed from her hands. The wind began to blow, and sand and debris swirled around the humans, encasing them in small cyclones. Green energy also surrounded the mundanes, but they had covered their eyes to protect themselves from the wind and didn’t see the glow.

Tavak spoke again.
We are helping you, Tree Shepherd’s Daughter. The humans won’t see the trees.

Are you kidding me?
An oak the size of a two-story house was stomping down the side alley between the herb shop and the privies. Janice stood in her doorway, her mouth opened in a perfect circle of amazement
. I’m thinking they’re visible to some.

Help Oamlik, Tree Shepherdess
. Tavak sounded stressed.

Oamlik must be the wayward oak. Keelie had an impression of great age, although Oamlik wasn’t the tallest tree in the forest. Maybe not the brightest, either. She walked over to Oamlik and reached up. The struggling tree clutched her arm with what looked like twiggy fingers.

Janice watched them as Keelie walked Oamlik back to the grove across from Heartwood. It was like she was escorting an elderly person across a busy intersection. This is a first, she thought. And if she was lucky, a last, too.

As they made their way to the grove, dozens of
bhata
clambered down the trees and touched her, as if in tribute. One touched her eyelids, making her duck. She didn’t want to get her eyes poked out by a stick fairy, but when she reopened them everything was bright green.

She’d heard of viewing the world through rose-colored glasses, but this was the forest version. It was like she was seeing two different realms stacked on top of each other.

The human world, the world in which she lived, was there; but with the magic sight, she saw the hidden world, too. Was this the way Dad saw the forest? Was this the difference between seeing with human and elven eyes?

There were
bhata
everywhere, all sorts of them. And the
feithid daoine
—the bug fairies that were smart and sometimes mean. Knot loved to chase them. And she could see the faces in the trees, the trees as they really were, and they were as different as you’d find among humans. There were some with wide faces, and some that were angular. Some had solemn expressions, with dour bark lips puckered together, while others seemed to have once been happy, with smile lines grooved into their bark. Their jolliness had faded, however, and many of the trees and some of the
bhata
and
feithid daoine
were smeared with a thick, luminous, dark blue liquid. Some of the trees had the stuff oozing down their trunks.

As Oamlik sank his roots deep into the soil, Keelie noticed that the old oak’s roots were also covered in the sticky blue substance. She opened her mind to Tavak and to Oamlik.
What is this?

We call it venumiel. Since Lord Einhorn has been sick, he cannot protect us from the poisons humans make.

Compassion filled her. The trees were tired, and they’d been sick for a long time. Keelie drew from Oamlik’s memories, and saw the unicorn running through the forest. His magic protected the trees from the burning rains and the dark, dirty air, and from the painful throbbing vibrations of the humans’ metal houses on the other side of the mountain. Keelie saw from the tree’s memory how the unicorn touched his horn to the sick trees and extended his magic over all, protecting this woodland.

The unicorn stood in a clearing. This was happening now, Keelie saw. Far away, but happening this very minute. Buildings were behind him, and what appeared to be a smokestack. He staggered as he touched his horn to a leafless tree. Even now, sick as he was, he was trying to protect his realm. She would help him. She had to.

Keelie hugged the tree. He wrapped his branches around her, and then the green faded from her vision and she realized that she was surrounded by a small crowd, clapping.

She looked up, but Oamlik’s face had formed back into knots.

Exhausted, Keelie bowed to the crowd, but not too low in case she pitched forward into the dust. She wondered what the people had seen, or thought they’d seen, and started back toward Heartwood.

The geeky boys who’d watched the pickle launch the day before followed her. “That’s so amazing! Are you running some type of robotic program? That was cool how you and that tree never reacted to the jousters.”

“Jousters?” She must have been totally out of it. Jousters always shook the earth as they galloped past on their huge, armored steeds.

“Yeah, when the two of you were walking across the street and the jousters came charging by on those great big horses, and you kept walking. Way cool! Where did the jousters go?” The boys looked around as if the phantom jousters would reappear.

Now Keelie understood what Tavak had meant; the trees had created an illusion of jousters so that everyone would think the walking tree was part of the show. “I’ll bet they went to the joust.”

A burly guy wearing a kilt snorted. “That wasn’t a robot. There’s some actor in that tree suit, ain’t there, girly?”

Keelie shook her head. “No actor. Believe me.”

“I say it’s an actor, and I’ll prove it.” The man picked up a broom that was leaning against a nearby building and headed toward Oamlik. As he passed by one of the other oaks, a branch seemed to bob with a passing breeze. It snagged his kilt, revealing silky blue boxers with the New York Yankees’ logo emblazoned in red on the rear.

Laughter burst from the crowd. The guy pulled his kilt back down, his face as red as the lettering across his backside. Keelie smiled. Trees with a sense of humor. Who would have guessed?

twenty-four

When Keelie returned to Heartwood, she found Laurie and Raven waiting on new customers. Knot lay on the counter in a beam of sunlight, which gave his usually demonic orange fur an angelic golden glow. He purred like a kitty Ferrari. People petted him as they passed and told him what a lovely cat he was. But Keelie could tell that he was still sick, and now she saw the blue that edged his kitty nostrils. She wondered if she’d see venumiel on Dad. He’d said the trees and elves were closely linked, and this would be a sure sign.

Even ill, Knot was enjoying the adoration of the customers he’d charmed. There would be no living with him now. Keelie wondered if it was a variation of the elf charm. Nah, that wasn’t possible. Still, she sniffed as she passed, checking him out for the telltale cinnamon scent of elf magic.

Laurie was showing a cradle, made of twigs and encrusted with semi-precious stones, to a couple. The woman was enormously pregnant. The couple held hands and gazed adoringly at one another as Laurie told them what a special cradle they had decided to purchase. “Just like Sleeping Beauty’s.”