The Tree Shepherd's Daughter

by Gillian Summers

  "Here you are. You've been delivered safe and sound. I'll be back around three forty-five to walk you back. Have fun with the dead rats." Scott nodded at one of the mews workers and sauntered off.

  Cameron approached, carrying a brown paper bag marked "Ariel" in black marker. "Good morrow, Keelie. Ariel's been waiting for you." She gave Keelie two sturdy leather gloves.

  "I can't wait." Not.

  "Where's your father? I needed to speak to him." Worry lines creased her face.

  "He's resting. He's not feeling well after our trip to the mall yesterday." Keelie put the gloves on. "I think it might have been MSG in his tofu."

  "Your father went to the mall?" Cameron's mouth hung open.

  "Yeah. According to Raven, it was a historical event. I needed clothes. All I had to wear were the mud clothes. The airline's lost my luggage, and Knot peed on my underwear." The comment about Knot whizzing on her underwear always solicited sympathy.

  "Knot peed on your underwear?"

  Keelie nodded.

  Cameron scrunched her face up and shook her head. "Knowing Knot, he might have been telling someone or something you belonged to him. Marking you as his territory, so to speak. Some cats do that."

  Keelie stared at the bird woman in total shocked silence. Somebody had been hanging out with her fine- feathered friends for way too long. "I am so not his territory. I think it was a hate message: Leave now."

  Smiling, Cameron said, "Well, Knot has always been a bit unusual, even for a cat. I hope Zeke feels better. Do you think he'll be up for a visit tomorrow?"

  "I think so."

  Cameron opened the bag. "Okay, Keelie, reach in there and retrieve Ariel's dinner."

  The thick leather of the gloves made her fingers feel clumsy. Reaching into the bag, Keelie grasped something thin but heavy. She slowly lifted a large, dead white rat out of the bag. Its tail hung limp and disgusting, but thankfully, its eyes were closed. Keelie looked away, afraid she'd hurl her lunch.

  "Gross, but necessary, Keelie. Give it to Ariel," Cameron said.

  Keelie made her way to the cage. Ariel's good eye watched her-or rather, the rat.

  A bundle of autumn-colored fur ran toward Keelie. What was that sadistic cat doing here? Had he heard them talking about him? Forget him.

  Keelie focused on Ariel. She locked eyes with the hawk as she approached, cursing Knot silently for weaving in and out of her legs. When she reached to open Ariel's door, she felt claws at her ankle and stepped back, tripping over the cat. She reached for the wooden cage with one hand to break her fall. As she did, she dropped the rat, which landed with a thud as the cage door popped open.

  The cat yowled like a banshee when the chilled rat landed on him. Ariel stretched her wings once, then flew out and spiraled into the trees.

  Knot shot into the woods, as if aware of the chaos he'd caused.

  Cameron cried out for him to stop, but the cat kept running, leaving a trail of waving grasses in his wake.

  In the air, Ariel paused as if noticing new prey, then shot down in pursuit.

  All the birds began screeching and flapping their wings against the bars of their enclosures. It seemed to Keelie that they were cheering Ariel on as the hawk flew in pursuit of the rapidly retreating Knot. Keelie wanted to run, too.

  Her second day on the job, and she'd lost the hawk.

  eleven

  Keelie kicked pebbles as she walked down the path toward Heartwood. She'd chased Ariel all over the Faire. Luckily, Cameron had bribed the hawk back with another rat. At least it had been Keelie's idea, so she'd redeemed herself, sort of.

  She stopped in front of the Magic Maze. A group of the badass college kids who manned the booths on weekends were playing soccer on the path and the clearing on both sides of it. She detoured around them and circled the Magic Maze. A little path led through the woods.

  Great, a shortcut. It probably led to the jousting fields. The path was narrow, and she brushed against fragrant branches and her fingers grazed occasionally against the rough bark of the trees that bordered the path. Pine, she thought.

  A branch snagged her hair, and she ducked to free herself. Her head yanked back. She reached up to untangle her hair. It was wrapped between two sticks. It was starting to hurt. She pulled at a stick and felt a velvety texture. Then a bony, stick-light hand grabbed her finger, wrapping around it.

  Was it a bird? She felt around, fighting the panic that made her shoulders clench and her skin prickle. Was it fur, feathers? It felt like sticks and leaves and moss. And it moved against her questing fingers.

  She screamed and ran, tearing her hair loose. It hurt like hell, but she wanted to get away from whatever it was. She stopped next to a tree, out of breath, heart pounding. What had it been?

  She looked around. She was surrounded by trees, and everything was quiet. Where was she? She should have been at the jousting ring by now. She was lost.

  Something moved in her hair. She froze. It glided down the back of her head, then she felt it on her shoulder. Afraid to look, she cut her eyes to the right. Sticks. She turned her head a little. It was just sticks, held together with moss.

  But it wasn't. She could see little hands now, brown and hard and shiny, and eyes that glowed from the moss of the face. The little creature lifted a hand to her cheek.

  It wasn't real, she told herself. It was a doll from one of the vendors. A puppet, left in the trees as a joke. The puppet pointed toward the woods to the right.

  She followed the tiny twiglike finger. There was movement in the bushes, probably some animal.

  "Danger." The voice was like a whisper of dried leaves. "Run, Keliel."

  Okay. The stick knew her true name. The bushes rustled a few yards away. She saw a flash of red.

  She ran, following the path, running as hard as she could. Then she heard voices. Human voices. She veered toward the sound and saw light ahead. And then she was out of the woods.

  She was at the edge of a clearing. She stopped, heart still racing, and looked toward her shoulder, but the little creature was gone. She knew she hadn't imagined it or the glimpse of red hat.

  Enough was enough. The evil little person was stalking her. She thought of Sir Davey, who was around the same height. She hadn't seen her attacker clearly, but she knew it was not Davey.

  Ahead of her was a large one-story building with massive timbers and a big wraparound deck filled with laughing people. She walked toward it and saw that it was on the shores of a lake with an island in the middle of it. A wide plank bridge farther down the shore led to the island, which was large enough to hold several buildings.

  Now that she was away from the forest, she could think clearly again. She was mad at herself for running, and from what? A bundle of sticks and a manic midget in yard-gnome couture? If this was Earth magic, keep it, she thought. And the little dude was only waist high. Let him come near her again, and she'd show him some Earth magic, Keelie-style. She'd pound him into the ground.

  The crowd on the deck seemed rowdy, and she was hesitant about asking them for directions. Then she recognized two of them as the pirates who'd driven by after picking up their checks earlier. Now she was definitely not asking for directions.

  The drummer from the Shire tent waved at her. "Hey Keelie! Hungry?"

  The man with his back to the rail turned around. It was Scott. Fabulous.

  Two of the pirates jumped down from the deck and swaggered toward her. Her heart sank. Captain Dandy Randy was one of them. She had to admit they looked hot in their long boots and pouffy shirts.

  "What a luscious bit of wench we have here," the other pirate said. He weaved a little as he walked.

  Captain Randy leered at her, but he grabbed the other pirate's arm, making him spin toward him. "She's underage. Throw her back and catch her again when she's ripe."

  She glared at him. Thanks a lot, Captain Geek.

  The other pirate grinned. "She looks old enough to me." He held up a beer tankard. "To all lovely lasses."
He drank deeply, then coughed as Scott's quiet voice rang through the clearing.

  "She's Heartwood's daughter."

  The beer tankard flew out of the pirate's suddenly nerveless fingers. It arced as if in slow motion, its contents flying out and splashing Keelie's new jeans. Great. She'd smell like a brewery.

  The pirates froze, then backed away.

  Heartwood's daughter. It sounded like a curse. She was doomed to be dateless. Hooves pounded behind her, like the cavalry in an old Western. She turned to see white horses gallop into the clearing, ridden by colorful riders.

  Sean. Sean was one of the riders. And then Elias horse caught up with him. The last person she wanted to see, especially when she smelled like beer.

  She saw that Scott had come to stand beside her. The air smelled of beer, cinnamon, and ozone. Dark clouds had gathered above them, echoing her mood.

  She could feel the tension between the group on the deck and the riders. She glanced behind her. Some of the college kids who played pirate were gripping the rail, as if waiting for the fight to begin.

  Sean smiled easily at the drinkers. "Great day for a ride. We've come to put the horses up-storm's brewing."

  Elias eyes locked on Keelie, her lips pressed in a thin line. "On your way to the Mire? Oops, sorry. I meant the Shire."

  Lightning flashed overhead, followed by the rumble of thunder. The skies opened. Keelie was soaked in seconds. She looked down, dismayed. Her new clothes.

  Elia's silvery laugh tinkled overhead. Keelie's fists closed, ready for battle, then she stopped. Elia was dry. No umbrella in sight, but the girl's golden curls were perfect, and her long, green gown was unspotted. None of the other riders seemed to be as lucky. They, and their horses, were wet, even Sean.

  They wheeled their horses around and headed for the bridge. Even from behind, Elia was dry. What the heck was going on around here?

  Keelie wanted to stick her tongue out but was afraid she'd start a melee. When things got real between her and Elia, she wouldn't drag a bunch of innocent guys into it. It would be just her and the she-witch of the Medieval Hell, mano a mano. And somebody's long, golden locks would get torn out by the roots.

  Scott grabbed her elbow. Before she could protest, he was dragging her up toward a wide, tree-overhung path. The path she'd thought she was on earlier. They passed a long, low stage with a banner above that announced fencing demonstrations, and a shuttered booth called Aviva's Shimmy Shack. A belly dancing shop! She'd remember this place for sure. Maybe she could come here with Raven when the weather improved.

  A shout from behind her stopped them. "Hey, Keelie, come back to the Shire tonight. We're having a drum circle by the meadow. Inside if it's still raining." The drummer waved at her and several of the pirates waved and grinned from the deck.

  She grinned back and waved with her free hand. Scott yanked her arm. "Quit fooling around. You are in so much trouble. Your dad said not to wander around by yourself."

  She pulled her arm out of his grasp. "Yeah? Well, you were the one put in charge of escorting me. And where were you? Drinking with Jack Sparrow's buddies."

  Did he look paler? She hoped he felt sick. Hard to tell with water dripping down his face.

  "Where were you? You have sticks in your hair." He was looking at her head.

  She reached up, panicked, but the sticks in her hair were just tiny twigs and bits of moss. Nothing moved.

  Scott gave her a weird look. "Come on."

  Feeling they were even now, she walked fast to keep up with his long legs, pulling debris out of her wet hair.

  They passed closed stores and exhibit areas, and then she saw the directional sign she'd seen the first day with Ms. Talbot. She'd gone in the opposite direction. Maybe she'd buy a compass and learn how to use it.

  "The drummer, what's his name?"

  "We call him Skins."

  "How PETA-friendly. Skins said the drum circle, whatever that is, was going to be at the meadow, but I was in the meadow last night, and that's a seriously creepy place."

  "Yeah, your dad told me you wandered into Elianard's camp. Stay away from him. He's worse than his daughter." Scott leered at her. "But the Shire is tons of fun."

  She ignored the remark. "What about the guy with the red hat? What do you know about him? Does he work here? He's got issues. Like, serial killer issues. Dad wouldn't let me call the police, either."

  Scott sighed. "There's a lot you don't understand about the Faire. But you will. The police never get called."

  "Never? As in, find a murdered body and just bury it in the woods?"

  "Planning to kill someone?"

  "Just you." She had to walk fast to keep up with his long stride. "What about the red-hat guy?"

  "Talk to your father about him. And the meadow's not so bad. What's creepy about it? The Faire administration keeps the area by the Shire mowed and the kids hang out there. They build bonfires and stuff, far away from the trees."

  "That actually sounds like fun. But you don't feel anything strange about the meadow?"

  "No. Not near the Shire. This hasn't been a normal season. Besides the weather, there have been thefts and fights, and Skin says there's some bad vibes around the Shire."

  "Bad vibes, huh? Now who sounds like they're from California?"

  "So no more sneaking off, right?"

  "I did not sneak offl I was with Cameron in the mews.

  "The mews are on the other side of the Faire grounds."

  "I got lost."

  He looked at her skeptically. "Remind me not to go walking in the woods with you."

  She almost said, why, are you scared? But instead she lifted her chin. "What makes you think I want to walk in the woods with you?"

  Why did she say that? She didn't want to encourage him. Sean, yes. Scott, no way. But he didn't seem to notice. Clueless wimp.

  She splashed her way back to Heartwood. The wind had changed direction, and it was warmer. That was a blessing, at least. She didn't have to be cold and wet. And she had dry clothes waiting for her. She picked up speed, almost passing Scott.

  The lights were on in the workshop, and Scott went through the furniture, now protected by long tarps. Keelie squished up the stairs.

  The apartment was dark, but it smelled deliciously of cooking onions. Keelie was amazed to see rays of light shooting up from the floor. For a second she thought it was another woo-woo Faire moment, but then she realized that it was the workshop lights leaking through spaces in the floor boards.

  She knelt on the wide plank floor (cedar) and put her eye to a crack. For a second, the images didn't make sense, then she realized she was seeing a huge log, bark still on, strapped to sawhorses. Zeke and Scott stood at either side of the log, examining it.

  A deep purring sounded near her, and Knot's furry head bumped her cheek. She stayed still, afraid he'd scratch her eyes out.

  "Good kitty." The purring stopped. "Miserable feline." The deep rumble resumed. "You are so weird."

  She pushed away from the floor and headed toward the bathroom to towel off. Knot followed, watching with eyes half-closed as she undressed and pulled the tags off more of her new clothes.

  "Where were you when I ran into the red-hat midget in the woods?"

  His eyes opened wide and he stared, almost as if he understood her words.

  "And that little twig puppet? The Henson studios need to know about that technology. It seemed real."

  Knot wasn't purring anymore. He was watching her carefully. She stopped brushing her hair. "What? You've never seen a chick with moss in her hair? It's all the rage in the Colorado woods."

  A twig bounced from her brush and fell at his feet. He batted it closer and sniffed at it, then started to purr again.

  Keelie laughed as she noticed the huge bald spot in the back of his head. "That must have been from Ariel. Serves you right."

  Warm and dry once more, she walked to the kitchen, hoping for a cup of tea. A big package was on the table. She glanced at the label
. Dread Forest, Oregon? She remembered her dad's credit card. Must be family.

  She took the tea kettle down from its shelf and turned on the cold water. Knot sat on her foot. With her other foot, she nudged Knot. He didn't move an inch. The diabolical cat sank his claws deep into her skin. "Ow!"

  She pushed him hard with her foot. He let go, sliding on the hardwood floor on his belly. Knot huddled his body into a ball. His tail twitched. He raised his backside up, ready to pounce.

  "Come on, psycho kitty, I'll take you on." Keelie wiggled her foot in his direction. He lowered his caboose, sat up, and studied her, suddenly calm as she filled the kettle. She tried to ignore him, but he continued to stare at her, and his eyes began to dilate, turning into large, black orbs.

  He meandered toward the bedroom curtain, then sat down.

  "Not on your life," she warned. She put the kettle on the stove, turned the burner on, and wiped her hands on a tea towel. Her father had started dinner. There was a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove, and water was simmering in a stock pot.

  "I mean it, cat. Stay away from my new clothes, and stay away from me. You're beyond demented."

  The cat purred as if she had given him a compliment. Something blue and tiny stuck out of a snarl of fur by his shoulder. She reached down quickly and plucked it off. A tiny blue feather. What kind of bird had this come from?

  Knot yowled and tried to swat her, then thought better of it and walked away calmly, as if it didn't matter.

  She lit two white beeswax candles that stood in wooden candleholders on the small kitchen table. The flames flickered, casting a warm glow around the room, counteracting the gloom from the cloudy skies outside.

  Zeke came in. "Doesn't it smell great in here? I'm making spaghetti sauce."

  "It does smell good."

  "Can you help fix it? I've got to head back downstairs."

  "Sure." Her stomach growled.

  Zeke opened a cupboard and pulled out a colander and placed it on the counter. "We need to talk."

  There was a knock at the door.

  He didn't remove his gaze from Keelie's. "Come in."

  It was Scott. "Sorry to disturb your cozy family scene, but I'm having a devil of a time. Can you come back down, Zeke?"