The Tree Shepherd's Daughter

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The Tree Shepherd's Daughter Page 16

by Gillian Summers


  "You've got that magic, Keelie," Cameron said.

  Keelie thought of Ariel, of the hawk's bony head against hers. Ariel trusted her. She thought of her mother, who always said medicine was overrated and that she didn't believe in anything but the law.

  Keelie would've defied Mom to save Ariel. To save Moon, she would have to defy Mom's memory, her beliefs. Or disbeliefs.

  She wouldn't let Moon die, even if it meant opening herself up to that tree creepiness, that bad feeling from underground.

  "Okay, what do I need to do? I'm only trying it, Cameron. No promises. But I'm willing to try for you and Moon."

  Zeke put his hand on her shoulder. "Good girl. I'll keep watch. Nothing and no one will approach."

  Tears spilled from the woman's eyes. "Thank you, Keelie."

  Cameron removed Moon from the birdcage. The owl slowly opened her eyes. Keelie couldn't see any wounds, but she sensed a purpose around the owl, like an invisible blanket of mean intent surrounding her. Whoever had harmed her had done so maliciously.

  Cameron placed her on Keelie's arm. Moon's clawed feet pressed against the stiff leather covering her arm, and Keelie put her other hand up to balance the light bird. Moon leaned into Keelie's hand, and she drew her arm toward her chest so that the bird could lean into her bodyeven though she was wary of the wickedly sharp beak so close to her skin. Ariel trusted Keelie, but she hadn't handled Moon before. Maybe a sick bird, like a sick dog, might lash out in fear.

  Keelie swallowed hard. "Okay. What next?"

  "You'll need to touch that aspen and let the energy from the tree flow through you to Moon." Cameron pointed at the tree, then stood back.

  Touch the tree? Keelie shivered. On the other side of the meadow, the drumming had intensified, punctuated now with excited yells and ululating calls. The dancing had begun.

  The tree looked healthy and green, a living version of the broken log in her father's shop. She walked up to the aspen, hands shaking, then jumped back when she saw the face of a young man looking out at her from the bark. This was no allergy.

  "Please, Keelie," Cameron said behind her.

  Keelie shut her eyes to block the weird hallucination and placed her free hand on the tree. Warmth spread from the rough bark to her fingers, then up her arm. Through her closed eyes, the movement seemed green, like living sap. She wasn't scared any more. It was okay. Or at least, it didn't hurt.

  What do you seek, Tree Shepherd's daughter?

  Keelie opened her eyes. The tree had spoken to her in her mind. His words seemed green, too, and parts of them sprouted, taking root in her mind.

  Moon gave a weak hoot. Time was running out for the owl. Keelie closed her eyes and pressed her hand more firmly against the bark. It was time for her to trust, too.

  She pictured herself opening the locked box where she kept her feelings. The box opened, revealing the dark emptiness inside.

  If you can heal this owl, please. She needs your help, she thought. I don't know what to do.

  Tree Shepherd's daughter, you answered my call when fire struck from the clouds. My power is yours to wield. The green light that had crept up her arm now flowed from the tree, through Keelie, filling the box in her mind. She pushed it into and around the sick owl.

  Keelie formed an image of a healthy Moon and held it in her mind. As the aspen's skin-tingling energy flowed into her, Keelie kept the image of the green light dissolving the darkness that infected the bird.

  She stood still, holding the owl in the aspen's healing magic, until she felt weak and her knees grew rubbery. She locked her right knee and leaned against the tree, and the contact opened the power between them even more.

  After a few minutes, Keelie slumped to the ground. Moon's lightweight body had become a leaden burden.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. She couldn't hold her any more.

  She felt a final green caress from the tree and a faraway whisper, Tree Shepherd's daughter, then heard Cameron say, "You did it, Keelie. You've saved her."

  Keelie opened her eyes and she saw Cameron cradling the snowy owl against her chest. Exhaustion filled Keelie's body, but happiness, too. She'd saved Moon with the tree's help.

  Zeke leaned down, his face looming in front of her. "Are you all right?"

  She nodded, then put one hand behind her to caress the bark. "Thank you," she whispered.

  You are a friend to trees, the voice whispered back.

  A buzzing filled her ears, as if a mosquito was flying too close. She'd heard the sound before, when it chased Knot.

  She turned her head to follow the noise and saw an insect clinging to the aspen's smooth bark. It turned bright, intelligent eyes to her and extended its wings.

  Keelie kept her eyes on it, not trusting that it would go away if she closed them. Too much had happened, and she couldn't disbelieve anymore.

  "Keelie, don't." Her father's tone seemed urgent.

  "Are you a fairy?" She moved her face closer to the oversized bug, and it skittered back a little. She held out her hand, and it moved closer and put a leg onto her finger.

  Then it backed up, and a fine spray hit her face. The particles seemed to come alive. In moments they had flown right into her eyes, seeming to pick up speed the closer they got.

  Keelie heard herself cough, and then everything went black.

  twelve

  If this was what a hangover felt like, then she was never, ever going to touch alcohol, Keelie thought miserably. Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat. She pulled the covers higher on her chest, then grimaced at the loud sound the sheets made as they rubbed on her skin.

  Raven held up a green dress with about a billion yards of fabric in the trailing sleeves. "How about this one?"

  Ribbons of green flowed straight up from the dress. That couldn't be right. Keelie wished she'd taken the willow-bark tea that Janice had sent along. Stupid fairy dust. When she caught up with the tiny terrorist, she'd feed him to Knot. But how to tell a fairy bug from a real bug?

  "Keelie? This dress?" Raven looked at her, eyebrows raised.

  Keelie lowered the covers. "Too much," she whispered, and wished Raven would, too. "It's too tempting for Knot. Of course, he might suffocate in it, which would be a plus." He was the one who'd gotten the fairies riled in the first place.

  Fairies. She groaned and put her palm against her forehead.

  "Raven, could you leave me alone, please? I need to die."

  "No way." Raven grinned. Her teeth were so, sobright.

  Raven smiled and put the dress back on the wooden rack that she and Janice had brought in, loaded with costumes for her to try on. She took down the next one.

  Keelie groaned. That morning she'd bolted upright, her heart racing, remembering Moon, the aspen tree, the little stick creature, and the poisonous bug. Her awful headache lingered, as if someone was hitting the back of her head while squeezing her temples, like the bellows the blacksmith used over at the sword-making booth.

  Angry fairies, Zeke had said. She'd lost the whole evening, put under by fairy dust. He'd also said that the little creature might be mad at her for healing Moon. If she hadn't seen it herself, she would have thought it was more of her father's weirdness. Of course, the whole event in the field made her father look less weird by the second.

  "You need that headache tea," Raven said.

  "Bring it on. Make it a double." Keelie looked around, in case the creepy little flying thing was around somewhere. "Why did the fairies put a hit on me?"

  Raven patted her shoulder. "Your dad's looking into it." She rummaged through the dresses on the rack. "You can lie down a little while longer, but it's better for you to move around."

  Her father had already left for his shop when she'd come out of the fairy-induced sleep and discovered her right hand was Crayola green. Janice had been sitting by her bed, a cup of soothing, honey-sweetened tea ready for her. It was cold now. Raven had taken over after an hour, when she'd gone back to finish her shop's bookkeeping.
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br />   Keelie reached for the cup that Raven offered. "So you believe in fairies, too? Have you seen them?" The tea was cool, but it smelled good.

  "I've never seen them. Mom calls them the bhata." She pronounced it "watta." Raven sounded wistful. "But this Red Cap everyone's worried about? I've seen what he can do. Two guys almost killed each other over a missing MP3 player at the Shire, and neither of them is the fighting kind. It was bad vibes, and very weird. Scary weird."

  "Scary weird? Coming from She-Who-Likes-SlasherMovies?"

  "Hey, I don't like to live them." Raven tipped up the bottom of the cup with her finger. "Drink up, small fry, and then we'll get your blood moving."

  Keelie did as she was told, draining the cup. She felt better already, though the room still shifted to the left if she turned her head too fast. "What do you mean, get my blood moving?"

  Raven looked mysteriously at her, then reached toward the floor and pulled out a long black scarf covered in jingling gold coins. She stood up, swishing her hips as she wrapped the scarf around them and knotted it in front. "Time for your lesson."

  "Now? Raven, I'm dying. This is not a good time."

  "Get up, slacker. Dancing will make you feel better, promise." Raven grabbed the covers and yanked them to the floor, exposing Keelie's poor, dying body to the chill.

  "Oh, that's cruel. Now I'll die of pneumonia, too."

  Beneath the bed, Knot purred.

  Keelie rolled over and bent her head over the side of the bed, anchoring herself with her hands clutching the sides of the mattress. Under the bed, Knot was chewing on one of her socks, drooling over the shredded fabric.

  "I took a fairy bullet for you last night, fuzz ball. Let's have a little gratitude." Hanging upside down was a bad idea. Her head was pounding even more.

  Knot stared at her with huge green eyes, then darted a paw and swatted at her. As he moved, she saw her cell phone protruding from under his pudgy side.

  "Hey, my phone." She reached in and grabbed it, avoiding his claws. She tried to straighten up but slid off the bed, landing in a heap on the wooden floor.

  Raven snatched the phone from her hand. "Yuck, it's all covered in dried mud." She scraped at the crusty shell with a fingernail. "I think it's had it."

  Keelie lay on the floor, looking up. Any minute the crime-scene guys would show up to draw a chalk line around her.

  "But you never can tell. Maybe if you cleaned it out carefully and dried it fast it might work again."

  Keelie closed her eyes. "I need it to work. It's my only connection to my friends in L.A." She thought she heard Raven snort, but she was probably wrong. "Yesterday was so strange. It was like a dream. The day started normal, but then it went out of control. I think I saw Knot wearing boots and fighting those stick fairies with a sword."

  "I wouldn't be surprised," she heard Raven answer. "Knot is an interesting creature. Sort of a mystery, like the Bermuda Triangle."

  "A mystery? Misery's more like it. I can think of other words to describe him, too."

  That one made Raven laugh.

  Knot purred as he rubbed up against Raven's legs. She stepped back. "Oh, nasty. I have kitty slime on me. He's drooled all over my custom-made boots."

  Something heavy landed on the bed above her head. Keelie didn't need to look to know it was the hairball. He purred.

  "Can I look at the dresses later? I think I need to get back in bed." She picked up the sunglasses that she'd dropped on the nightstand the day she arrived and put them on. Darker, but better.

  "Do those help? You're still a little green."

  Keelie opened her eyes. "At least I'm not seeing green streamers shooting out of your head."

  Raven felt the top of her black hair. "Thank goodness. Green is so not my color. " She gestured at the rack full of dresses. "You've got two underdresses, those are the white ones-they can double as nightgowns. We've got three gowns for you too, including the green one, and Mom measured your shoes for medieval boots. They're sort of a mix between bedroom slippers and boots. Super comfy, mud repellent. You should have those in a few days."

  In a few days, Keelie hoped to be gone. She felt guilty accepting the costumes, but she still needed garb to wear until then, and she could always wear them when she came back to visit her dad. It's not like they'd go out of style or anything, being four hundred years past their expiration date already.

  "You and your mom are so nice. It sure is different from that Muck and Mire Show outfit." She was sure Elia would find something snarky to say about her new clothes, as well as remind everyone about the tacky handprints on her old Muck and Mire Show skirt. She wondered how much Elia knew about the fairies. Could she see all this weird stuff, too, or was it just a family thing? She remembered how the rain had not touched Elia even when everyone else was soaked.

  Keelie rubbed her right hand against her nightdress. The skin on her hand and fingers were still stained green but didn't feel sunburned any more.

  Raven couldn't see the fairies nor the faces in the trees. What if she ended up having more in common with Elia than with Raven? She shuddered. No way.

  "Sir Davey dropped off some coffee for you. It's in the kitchen. He said to sip it every few minutes."

  "Thanks." Coffee as medicine. Gotta love it. Sir Davey was another one she needed to talk to. He'd mentioned Earth magic. Maybe that was what she'd done yesterday.

  "I promise I'll be back later. I have to check out what's going on in the meadow."

  "In the meadow? What?" Keelie sat up, then clutched her head. Jeez. Like it hadn't been pounding for hours. She remembered that creepy manic midget in the red hat and the thing living in the stream. "What's happening in the meadow? Is it Moon? Is she okay?"

  Raven helped Keelie get up. "Moon's on the mend. Remember I told you? Don't worry about what's going on. It's a Shire thing. Our party last night kind of got out of control. I'll be back, I promise. Skins and I are going to go and investigate some stuff. Aviva, one of my belly-dancing friends, lost a silver ring carved with rowan leaves. It's a family heirloom. Maybe we'll find the missing MP3 player, too."

  "Okay. If you promise to come back and tell me everything." The Shire partied, and Keelie turned green. If she didn't feel so bad, she'd make a joke about it. "Can I take a rain check on that dancing?"

  "Yeah. Get some rest, and when you feel better, I'll show you how to do some hip lifts." Raven helped her get into bed.

  "Hip what?" Keelie rose up on her elbows.

  Raven lifted her hip and then it dropped in a smooth, fluid movement. Then she did it several times, the coins on her scarf jingling like a tambourine. Knot's head moved up and down like a fuzzy kitty yo-yo as he watched Raven's moves, and Keelie became dizzy. Raven stopped. Keelie plopped back down on her pillow. "I'll never be able to do that."

  "Probably not. You're so California. See ya, kid."

  Raven left the room, then stuck her head back in, grinning. "By the way, you missed a great party, but I understand. It was for a good cause." She ducked out of sight again, and Keelie heard the door and Raven's voice say, "Hi, Zeke. She's doing a lot better."

  Footsteps sounded loudly on the wooden floorboards, making her wince, and then her father appeared in the curtained doorway. "Glad to see you sitting up." He held a tray, and on it there was a silver carafe with a glass lid sparkling with different jewels. She inhaled the aroma of coffee.

  "I thought I would bring you some of Sir Davey's `clear away anything giving you a headache' coffee."

  She nodded. "Coffee. Great. I'm still alive. Freaked out, but living."

  "Want to hear some good news?" He placed the tray on the bedside table and poured the coffee into a green clay mug embossed with a gold leaf.

  "About?"

  He handed her the mug, and she gripped it with both hands. The warmth soaked into her skin, then she sipped the strong but delicious brew. Immediately, the throbbing in her head eased.

  "It seems your luggage has made it to London." He was smiling, bu
t his eyes held a look of concern. He didn't believe she was all right.

  "London. As in England. As in Great Britain." Her head pulsed. She shouldn't have nodded. She sipped more of Sir Davey's coffee.

  "It's getting closer. It'll be in New York City in a couple of days. That's New York, as in New York State. As in the United States." He smiled. "Why don't you lay down and rest?"

  "I'm fine. I want to change into my new clothes. I'm feeling better. I think I can move now." Her head whirled, but not as much.

  Despite her headache, she was happy about the good news. Things were looking up. Her luggage, including Mom's pictures and Boo Boo Bunny, were on their way back to her. She needed to see Mom's pictures. She needed to make sure she remembered her face the way it had been. And she could use a stuffed bunny hug about now.

  "If you're up to it, I'd like to have some folks over to talk about Faire business tonight. Just Janice and Sir Davey. They're worried about you, too, and I didn't want to leave you alone. We'll move the meeting if we bother you.

  He looked at his hands, his soft voice deepened with remorse. "I feel badly about what happened, Keelie, and that you had to deal with it unprepared."

  Keelie wrapped her arms around herself. Had Dad carried her back from the field? She didn't remember anything after the bug bite, or whatever it was.

  "You keep saying that we need to talk," she said. "Just tell me now."

  He shrugged and looked as if he was about to say something, then changed his mind. After thinking for a moment, he lifted his head and looked at her. "Remember the tree I was working on yesterday?"

  "How could I forget?"

  "You said something about an allergy, and then the fairies attacked Knot and we didn't talk again. What did you mean?"

  "Mom said I was allergic to wood, ever since the trees talked to me in the park when I was five and I told her about it. She said it was allergen-induced psychosis."

  His expression grew grim. "Your mother wanted to protect you, and she did, the best way she knew how. But you don't have any allergies, Keelie."

  "I figured. It's been worse since I moved here, but I wasn't itchy or sneezing. I was hearing the trees. I can feel them in my skin. Can you do that, too?"

 

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