"There may be more of the likes of me and my kind in Keelie than even Zeke Heartwood wants to admit, Sir Jadwyn," said Sean.
Keelie looked from the dwarf to Sean. "Excuse me, but in case you two have forgotten, I'm standing right here. And I thought your name was Davey."
The little man shrugged. "I said they called me Davey. Jadwyn's another name."
She gazed up at Sean. "What did you mean? More of the likes of you and your kind? In me? Not a chance, Sean. I like horses, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take up jousting.
A man on an impressive white horse stopped beside Sean. "Lord Sean, the Queen requests your presence in the ring."
Sean smiled at Keelie, then he winked. "I wish you a wonderful day, Keelie Heartwood." He circled his horse around and followed the other jousters.
Even though Sean hadn't answered her question, and obviously wasn't friendly with the glowering Sir Jadwyn, Keelie's heart cartwheeled because Sean said she was of his kind, even in her mud-pit clothes and curly, short hair. He had even winked at her.
"Lady Keelie, stay away from him. He may look young, but he's older in more ways than you can imagine. It's best you get back to your father." Sir Davey just didn't look like a Jadwyn.
She heard him but pretended she hadn't. This place was full of folk who thought she needed mothering. The only person who fit that job description was gone.
Her eyes remained fixed on Sean's retreating figure. Could he really like her? He looked seventeen. Sir Davey said he was older. Could he be twenty? That was just three years older. Not as old as Captain Randy. She imagined her friends' reaction back at Baywood Academy as they gathered around her locker to hear about her boyfriend, the twenty-year-old actor and stuntman.
She returned to the counter, picked up her mug, and took another appreciative sip. "Thanks again for the great coffee."
He arched a steel gray eyebrow, still brushing flecks of mud from his hat. "See that you go straight back to your father's booth and don't be conversing or congregating with any strange folk."
"Then I can't speak to anyone, can I? Everyone is strange around here." With a jolly little wave, Keelie left the shop, mug in hand.
"We'll talk about that other matter another time," Sir Davey called.
That other matter? Earth magic. She remembered that Janice had told her that if she stayed she would discover things about herself that she hadn't thought possible.
Not if she could help it. She thought the words "law school" over and over until all thoughts of magic were scrubbed from her mind. Good thing she'd stayed away from those crystal-seed muffins.
Even though she was heading back to her father's booth, she could still explore a little more. She wondered if there was a place at the Faire where she could get her belly button pierced. She wondered if Raven had a piercing.
She spied the jewelry booth where she'd bought the quartz and strode over to it. She hadn't gotten a good look before, with Ms. Talbot hurrying her along like a mad corgi with a stubborn sheep.
No body jewelry, but on a velvet display board, a small silver necklace glistened. A fairy pendant dangled from the chain. She touched the fairy, marveling at the itty bitty wings.
A woman in an elaborate Renaissance dress with a high, tight bodice and huge, dragging sleeves shaped exactly like her huge, dragging nose walked over to Keelie and said through Shar-Pei wrinkles, "Please don't handle the merchandise unless you intend to pay for it, little girl."
Keelie looked closer. Under the big dress was a huge bosom. It was Tania, playing the Evil Queen instead of the Melon Smuggler. Keelie let the fairy necklace slip from her hand back to the display board.
Little girl? Humiliated, Keelie wanted to run, but decided she'd walk away with her head held high.
When she turned around, she almost walked right smack into Elia, Princess Better-Than-You, who raised her pert nose as her gaze lingered over Keelie. Elia carried a harp today, and hugged it closer as if contact with Keelie would contaminate it.
Elias perfect rose-tinted lips lifted into a sneer. "What happened to your hair? Did you cut it?"
Tania laughed.
Keelie didn't bother to answer that it only looked shorter because it was curly. It would have been a waste of time. The girl lacked any human feelings. Keelie stepped around her.
Elia followed. "Hey, I was talking to you, California girl. Who cut your hair? I want to know so that I can warn all my friends not to go there." Elia laughed.
Just keep moving, Keelie thought. Don't even mess with her. There isn't a brain underneath all that golden hair.
Anger boiled within her. She clenched her fist tightly around her mug. She wanted to punch Miss Perfect in the nose.
Keelie was surprised to hear Elias footsteps continuing behind her. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction of turning around. Elia ran her hand over her harpstrings, and sweet music filled the air. She began singing in a lilting voice:
A girl there once was with locks so shorn
She looked like a sheep, not human-born,
Who could blame her for being forlorn?"
A crowd of spectators, including the stilt walker that Keelie had seen on her arrival yesterday, had gathered to listen to the performance. Elia strummed her harp again and smiled at the people as if she were an innocent angel. Then she continued her singing:
"Her garments were soiled, all covered in dirt,
A sight she was, and filled many with mirth. "
"That doesn't even scan, Lady Lame," Keelie muttered. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall the wisp of power she'd felt earlier. She imagined the harp strings breaking. She felt the trees all around her, as if gathering to protect her. This was far different from the claustrophobic feelings she'd had in the past. They felt friendly, as if they'd said, "Got your back."
A breeze touched her face, soothing, like the windchimes in her father's apartment, and she opened her eyes, surprised.
The wispy wind blew right through her, leaving a piney green smell that clung to her like incense. The tall pine trees that grew behind the jewelry booth began to sway. A hanging gold Renaissance dress oscillated in the wind like a dancer doing a jig. Several loud pings sounded nearby, and Elia screamed.
Keelie looked with a mingled combination of horror and delight. Elia's harp strings blew in the breeze like silky strands of spider silk.
A pointed ear tip showed as Elia bent her head over her harp. Just like Sean's. A Faire fad, or were they all related?
Elia looked up at Keelie, her green eyes glowing with hatred. Something darker slid behind their vivid color, then floated up to ring her irises in black.
Whoa. Keelie backed away from the scary-eyed girl.
"You did this. I don't know how, but somehow, you did this," she cried out as she rocked her harp in her arms.
More and more people crowded around the sobbing girl. Tania had joined the crowd and scowled at Keelie. "What did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything. I was standing right here. I didn't touch her harp." She hadn't touched the harp, but she'd wished it. Was this Sir Davey's Earth magic? The cat and now the harp. This was way beyond what she'd been able to do in California.
Elia looked up at the gathered crowd with tear-filled eyes. "I shall be unable to play today for not only are the strings of my harp broken, alas, so is my heart."
What a drama queen!
Keelie started to back away, but a hand squeezed her shoulder. The elegantly costumed jeweler held her still.
"Don't move," Tania said. She looked around at the gathered mundanes and hauled Keelie back behind the jewelry booth and shook her shoulder. "You've caused enough trouble, girl. You mud people need to stay in your own area. If I see you here again, I'll call security."
"I didn't do anything," Keelie said, breaking free of the woman's claws. She glared at the jeweler, who looked back at her angrily and made another grab at her.
"Go. Get away from my shop," Tania hissed. She turned to look at Elia, sti
ll sobbing on the path. The woman spat on the ground and rubbed the spit into the dirt with the tip of her shoe. She muttered something under her breath.
Over the woman's shoulder, Keelie watched Elia turn slowly, as if smelling something in the air. She thought the girl was looking for her, but she locked eyes with the jeweler.
Tania gasped.
Elia took one step toward her. "Do you think your puny curses can harm me?"
The woman stepped back, pale. She really looked afraid. Keelie was disgusted. This must have been a show for the mundanes. She wished she'd been let in on it. That was the lesson to remember. Everything here was fake.
Sean appeared on foot, followed by some of the knights she'd seen earlier. Elia ran to Sean, harp strings fluttering behind her damaged instrument. He put his arms around her, but his eyes were on Keelie. Elia pointed toward Keelie, then started to cry again.
Keelie backed away. Elia lifted her face from Sean's shoulder and smiled wickedly at Keelie. As she suspected, the tears were fake.
She was confused. Was anything real here? She quietly wove her way through the growing throng of people and once clear of the crowd, started to run, not caring where she went. At this rate she'd make the long-distance track team back home.
When her side began to ache, she stopped. She had to gulp in several deep breaths to calm herself. She was by the entrance towers. A family paid their admission and passed through the gates. The dad walked with two little boys and behind them the mom pushed a little girl in a stroller. They looked so normal.
Keelie wanted to yell, "Turn around, don't enter. This place isn't for normal people. "
She watched as the two little boys, dressed in raincoats and carrying wooden swords, shouted "Huzzah." Wind whipped their hair back, and they yelled into it. Their father turned back to hurry them along.
"Rain's coming, boys. Let's get out of the mud." Above them the sky had darkened again, and the wind brought the smell of ozone. "Weirdest summer ever, right, guys?"
Keelie turned away from their protests that mud was fun. It hurt to watch the happy family. Had she been like the little toddler in the stroller? Were Mom and Zeke ever happy together? Her dad who couldn't live away from the woods? Dad. He wasn't a dad to her. He was her father in name only, and he was fifteen years too late to be "Dad."
She gazed at the entrance and froze. Keelie couldn't believe what she saw. Could it be? It couldn't be. It was. An anachronistic gadget in this feudal festival-a pay phone, hanging on a wooden fence between the exit and the restrooms.
She reached into her pocket and found the change the lady from the tea shop had given her. She pulled it out: a nickel, two quarters, four pennies, and six one-dollar bills.
Hadn't she seen the toll-free collect-call commercials on television? She'd call Elizabeth. She would make immediate arrangements for Keelie to come home once she told her of the horrible conditions that she had to endure here.
Two men dressed in leather vests, white muslin shirts, and cloth breeches scurried past her and out the exit.
"If she flies past the grounds, we'll never be able to catch her," said one man. "She'll die out there."
"Aye, we'll need to alert the management. I've never known a bird more tenacious than that one," said the other man.
She wondered what that was about, but it didn't concern her. She was on her way home. Keelie lifted the phone from the cradle. She stopped as she heard music nearby, the sound of a harp. Had Elia followed her? She looked around, but there was no golden-haired witch in sight. The harping stopped, and then she heard the dial tone and punched in one of the 1-800 numbers she recalled. An operator answered, "To whom would you like to make a collect call?"
"Laurie Abernathy in Los Angeles, California. This is Keelie Heartwood." Keelie gave the operator Laurie's number. Thunder rumbled above her as the phone rang. Keelie's heart pounded against her ribcage, and on the other end of the receiver, a familiar voice said, "Hello?"
The operator said, "Will you accept a collect call from Keelie Heartwood?"
"Yes!"
Laurie's voice was like warm sunshine after a cold, rainy day. It was home and school and listening to new CDs by the pool. Keelie wanted to transform herself into little bits of microscopic Keelie pieces and travel through the telephone cord over the fiber optic network to be with her friend.
A dark shadow swooped over her. Keelie looked up into the sky to see what it was-
-and screamed as razor-sharp talons reached for her eyes.
seven
"Keelie? Keelie, is that you?"
Keelie heard her friend's voice, tinny and far above. She'd dropped and rolled onto the ground, arms over her head. A harsh screech sounded directly overhead. She flinched as something brushed her back.
Eyes closed, she pictured the claws extended like powerful scythes, ready to shred her face. She pulled her legs up tighter and tucked her face into her arms. A hawk. A huge one.
Keelie's muscles felt frozen by the frighteningly shrill cry and flapping wings. The pay phone cord dangled somewhere above her head, and Laurie's voice was replaced by a woman's monotone voice, "If you would like to make a call, please hang up and try again."
Keelie closed her eyes tighter and covered her head. All those years of earthquake drills in school finally came in handy. She listened for more of the bird's movements; instead, she heard only the irritating beeping of the phone. She twisted her head and peeked between her fingers. Blackening, swirling storm clouds, but no movement. She cautiously moved her arm. No hawk hovering above her, waiting to tear her into shreds.
She rose to her knees and scanned the surrounding trees. Still no hawk. Relief flooded through her. It was gone.
Keelie stood. Something skimmed the back of her head with a light stroke. Panic returned. She remained perfectly still, then inhaled sharply when the hawk landed lightly on the nearby fence. Its claws dug into the wood as it attempted to balance itself, wide wings tented.
Mouth dry, she gazed into the bird's golden eye as it scrutinized her. It turned its head, and her fear lessened, replaced by sympathy. The other eye was milky white. Blind.
Keelie had never been this close to something so majestic and beautiful in her entire life. Its blindness didn't mar the power, and being this close to it touched something inside her-tripped a switch deep within her soul.
A warm breeze ruffled the bird's feathers. The irritating beeping from the pay phone receiver pulled Keelie's attention away from the hawk, and back to the fact she'd lost her connection to Laurie: her connection to home.
Keelie reached for the receiver, picked it up, and stretched closer to the pay phone to push the buttons to call Laurie. She smiled at the hawk. It watched her, unmoving, until she pressed the metal buttons. The bird cried out again as if asking her, "What are you doing? Why do you want to leave?"
She left the pay phone and walked over to touch the wooden fence. It was cedar, and in her mind she saw rows of planted trees. Tree farm.
The hawk cried out. Keelie turned to see the two men who had rushed by only minutes before. They walked through the tower gates, then stopped when they heard the hawk cry out again. Keelie looked from the bird to the men. "Is this your bird?"
One of the men called out, "Don't move, kid."
The other one held out an arm encased in a thick, stiff leather glove. "Come, Ariel, come to me," he called out.
The first man motioned cautiously to Keelie. "Don't move. She's dangerous."
Yeah, now you warn me.
The hawk turned its head from the men to look once more at Keelie. This must have been the bird that had flown away during the raptor show when she'd arrived yesterday.
Above her, the trees whispered to each other. She felt their touch in the breeze against her cheek. Feather light.
Feathers. She sensed that the hawk wasn't going with these men, but maybe she would come to her.
Ariel the hawk turned her golden eye to Keelie and as their eyes locked, the two c
onnected. Understanding flowed between two hurt souls, bound in pain. At that moment, Keelie knew she had a friend at the High Mountain Renaissance Festival.
She edged closer to Ariel. "Will you come to me?"
The hawk bobbed her head as if saying yes. Ariel inched her talons down the fence closer to Keelie.
"Move slowly," the gloved man called. He drew the glove off and tossed it to her underhand. It fell at her feet. Ariel shifted her weight back, as if ready to jump on it, then settled down.
"Put the gauntlet on, then put out your arm. Be careful, her talons are as sharp as knives."
Keelie tugged the glove onto her hand, moving carefully so that she wouldn't scare the hawk. She was glad for the protection from Ariel's sharp claws.
Ariel bobbed her head up and down, examining her, then launched herself toward Keelie and landed on her extended forearm. She was large, but not as heavy as Keelie had thought. She kept her head back, afraid of the wicked beak so close to her face. Ariel lowered her head and leaned forward. Keelie mirrored the move, and Ariel touched her forehead to Keelie's.
"Holy cow!"
"Will you look at that?"
Ignoring the wondering cries of the men, Keelie and Ariel touched, feather to skin, until at last Keelie raised her head.
"We both should've flown free when we had the chance," Keelie whispered against the smooth head.
At the raptor mews, Keelie learned Ariel's sad story from the two men. Some teenage boys had shot at her with a BB gun, and the pellet had permanently blinded her left eye.
No longer able to see to hunt, she had been brought to the raptor rehabilitators. Since Ariel could fly, she kept attempting to escape. Each time she'd returned when she was hungry, but her impaired vision put her in danger of being injured.
This was the first time she'd flown to a person, and the men seemed in awe of Keelie as they flanked her on the walk to the mews.
"Thank the stars and the planets, Ariel has returned to us," said a tall, slender woman with odd, brush-cut hair. Keelie recognized her; it was Cameron, the lady who had held the snowy owl the day before, and the only other woman at the Faire with short hair like hers.
The Tree Shepherd's Daughter Page 8
