The goblin's curse sos-3

by Gillian Summers

  They’d seen the goblins. Keelie’s worst fear had come true. Dad had to know this right away.

  The reporter and photographer had stopped to stare at the abnormally huge cat. Ralph lifted his camera and got some shots.

  “Meow will take care of them.” Knot flicked his tail and bounded into the woods.

  “Be careful,” Keelie shouted out after him. Then she gestured toward the parking lot in the performers’ campground; it would be better to get Blakely and Ralph out of here for their own safety. “You should go that way.”

  “That cat talked,” Blakely Kilpatrick said, looking dazed.

  Keelie ignored her statement and jogged ahead. “Follow me.”

  They ran down the path. When an arrow zinged past them and struck a tree, Keelie came to a complete stop. The alder screamed in pain, its cries rippling through her head.

  “We need to go back.” She would have to lead the reporter and the photographer into the faire itself. “Run.”

  She moved as fast as her legs would take her. She heard the huffing and puffing of the winded duo from the Fort Collins Daily, but they were still talking as they made their way after Keelie.

  “Did you see that thing back there?” Blakely asked.

  “Yeah, and I got great photos,” the camera dude answered.

  So they had proof-they had seen the goblins. Keelie wondered what the photos would show.

  As they came around the Griffin jousting ride, Keelie saw Vangar walking quickly toward Wood Row. He stopped when he saw her with her bedraggled companions.

  “Keelie, I was about to go and search for you. Finch is beside herself with worry,” he called.

  “Goblins,” she said breathless. “They’re coming in from the woods side of the faire.”

  Vangar’s face reddened as his shoulders hunched and his hands clenched. He was about to transform. Keelie held up her hand. “These are reporters.”

  He shook away the transformation, relaxing his shoulders, then smiled and nodded. “Hello, folks.” He turned to Keelie. “I’ll gather the others,” he said softly.

  “There are monsters in the woods,” Blakely said, her voice shrill. “Don’t go down that road.” She pointed to the East Road.

  Vangar nodded. “Thanks, I won’t.”

  Before Keelie could stop her, Blakely was yelling into phone. “I need the editor, now. I’m sending some photos from my phone. I have the scoop. Those sightings of green men at the faire-I have proof they’re real. No, not makeup. We’re talking some kind of green monsters, with axes, wearing armor. This is big.”

  Keelie didn’t think Finch was going to like this latest development. If the world discovered that goblins were real, what would happen to those with real magic? Would they be subject to government testing? Would they be socially ostracized? She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  “I think you need to meet our faire director,” she said.

  “Does she know what’s going on here?” Blakely asked.

  “Um, yes.” Keelie ran toward the Admin office by the main gate, the reporters huffing and puffing behind her.

  In Finch’s office, the dragon-woman broke several pencils as Blakely explained how she’d run into goblins and sent the pictures into the newspaper.

  Then the reporter’s phone rang. “No, that’s awesome news-I’ll let them know,” she said into her phone. She beamed at Keelie. “CNN, the Associated Press, all the news stations picked up my story, and they’re on their way with cameras. In twenty-four hours this place is going to be covered with reporters.” She did a little dance step, beaming with excitement.

  Finch’s pile of broken pencils was getting scary.

  Keelie needed to find Dad and make sure he was safe. He was probably thinking the same thing about her.

  Finch’s radio crackled on her desk. Vangar’s voice was garbled, but clear enough to make out his warning. “Goblins have been seen near the elven camp. I’m sealing the shields around the faire.”

  Finch paled.

  “What does he mean, seal the shields around the faire? Do you have soldiers guarding a secret compound?” Blakely asked.

  “It means you’re not leaving.”

  “What?” The reporter reeled back from Finch’s booming voice.

  Once again, Keelie wished she had the Compendium- she could’ve cast a forgetful spell on the reporters.

  “Keelie, contact the trees. Find out the situation with the elves.”

  “Elves. Contact trees?” Blakely looked like she was about to wet her pants. “If I hadn’t seen those slimy, greeny-gray guys myself, I’d think this was a LARP.”

  “LARP?” Finch frowned.

  “Live Action Role Playing-it’s a game,” Keelie explained.

  “What kind of games do humans play?” Finch asked, not expecting an answer. She pressed a button on a remote control and a wall panel slid to the left, exposing swords, spears, and maces. It was a fully stocked medieval armory.

  “Quite the collection,” Keelie said as Finch removed a short blade from the wall.

  Blakely stood, open-mouthed, while her photographer got busy snapping pictures.

  “Can you handle a sword?” Finch asked the reporter.

  “I took fencing in school, but I did foil. These are all edged weapons,” she said.

  “I’m impressed that you called it an edged weapon. So, close enough.” Finch handed the hilt of the short blade to the reporter. “We’re at war, sweetheart, so you’re going to have to slice and dice if you’re attacked. Otherwise, you’re dead. Keelie, what do you want?” Finch held out a selection.

  Keelie had wielded a sword before. She chose a rapier with an emerald in the pommel. “This one.”

  Finch nodded her approval. “Good choice.”

  “This is for real.” Blakely’s voice was serious.

  “It’s for real,” Keelie replied. “I’m going to contact the trees.” Plus, she wanted to make sure Dad was safe. She took comfort in knowing that the elves, at least, were on their way home.

  Stepping outside, Keelie took a deep breath and sought out the greenness.

  Hrok.

  The tree didn’t answer. What did reply to Keelie’s summons wasn’t Hrok.

  Do you seek counsel with your tree friend?

  An orange and red light filtered through Keelie’s mind. The fieriness reminded her of a goblin’s eyes.

  Who are you?

  Surely you can guess?

  Melankin?

  Perceptive. That is one of my names.

  Elven lore doesn’t tell of a goblin tree shepherd. I’m not sure it’s possible. Goblinkind are linked to rocks and crystals, not living things.

  The elves think they’re the only species who can live in harmony with nature. My kind lives in close association with the humans in the cities, nature of a different sort. It is our way of preserving our independence, but still being part of this world.

  Keelie couldn’t argue with this point. The elves had withdrawn into their forests and isolated themselves.

  Why are you attacking the faire? These are innocent people here. If you’re a friend of trees, then you wouldn’t put them in harm’s way. You would leave the faire. And you say goblins live closely with humans, so why hurt them?

  I am indeed a friend of trees, but I’m not an elf friend, nor a human friend.

  Why this faire?

  Why, Keelie, I thought the reason would be obvious.

  I’m clueless. Enlighten me.

  Laughter erupted in her mind, making it pound with red and yellow bursts. She inhaled. Could it be Tavyn? He had talked to the Redwoods, but those ancient trees could be seen and heard by all if they wished to reveal themselves.

  Getting closer. In fact, you’re red hot.

  The trees may know you by the name Melankin, but the goblins and elves call you Tavyn.

  Ah, Keliel, you’re a smart one. What else do you know?

  You’re here at this faire because you want to get your revenge against me
for foiling your plans in California.

  One of the reasons. But you have something in your possession that I want.

  Keelie had no idea what he could want. She had nothing of value. Could it be her magical cat? You mean Knot?

  She felt a wave of disbelief trickle through her mind. As if. That cat is a curse to anyone who owns him. You two are a well-matched pair. I’ll make a bargain with you, Keliel. We’ll save the trees, we’ll save the humans and their little faire, and no one gets hurt if you make a trade with me.

  Keelie’s heart started to thud faster. What could he want that was worth disrupting and destroying so much? What do you wish to trade?

  You give me the Compendium, and I’ll call off my goblins, and your humans will be safe. You have until sunset today.

  It was already mid-afternoon. Keelie felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t possibly comply. The Compendium was a pile of ashes.

  twenty

  Once Keelie emerged from her telepathic communication link with Tavyn, she dropped onto a nearby bench to steady herself. Her head ached even more than from her earlier contact with Hrok. She glanced up at the position of the sun. She had about four hours before Tavyn’s threat would come to pass.

  It was eerily quiet. There were no birds singing, and the trees were silent. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Could goblins be lurking and watching her every move and reporting back to Tavyn? She fought the urge to flee back into the Admin office.

  Something warm and hairy rubbed up against her leg. Keelie jumped up from the rock.

  Knot, back to normal-cat size, rubbed his face against her leg as the familiar tree greenness formed in her mind. She recognized the essence: Hrok.

  Daughter of the Forest. You seemed distressed. Melankin’s request seems reasonable. He explained to me he merely wants to read this book. Yet fear flows through you. Why are you so afraid of him?

  How did she explain this to Hrok?

  I don’t think Melankin is as nice as he’s making himself out to be. I think he has a shadowy-bark side.

  He seems very nice to us.

  Keelie didn’t have time to debate the situation with Hrok. She had to report to Finch.

  Be careful around Melankin. He’s not what he seems. His rings are stained with treachery and betrayal. Hrok, can you sense my father?

  This conversation puzzles me, Daughter of the Forest. As to sensing your father, I do not. In fact, I think he has left the area.

  I need to see him. It’s an emergency.

  I am sorry. Still, I do not sense his presence. Let me ask the trees within the elven camp.

  Their connection thinned and became a wispy green thread as he consulted the rest of the forest. Then it flared back to life.

  The little cedars at Heartwood would like for me to tell you that they saw your friend Hob. It looked as if he was making magic with a book.

  Keelie’s heart raced. A big green book?

  Yes, milady.

  Keelie’s knees felt rubbery and she leaned against a fence post (cedar, from Washington State). The Compendium wasn’t lost after all. But Hob was Peascod, and he had the Compendium. Perhaps he’d set the fire so he could steal it, but why? Her head reeled. Was he going to give it to Tavyn?

  “Meow what’s wrong?” Knot swished his tail as he waited patiently down at her feet. He hadn’t left her side.

  “The Compendium didn’t burn, but Peascod has it.”

  Knot placed his paw on her leg. “Meow will help you get it back, meow.”

  Love for the fairy cat flowed through her, but she wouldn’t ruin their relationship by telling him.

  “Whatever happens, thank you, Knot.”

  He lifted his head, eyes dilated. “Meow why thank meow?”

  “Because you’re a good guardian.”

  Knot turned his head. His ears tilted forward. Keelie thought she heard a sniff, sniff. But she didn’t push the cat. Sentimentalism wasn’t his style.

  What should she do next? She tried reaching out to Dad but she couldn’t reach him; her head was all fuzzy with green energy.

  She had to get the Compendium back. Maybe Elianard would help her once he found out it hadn’t been destroyed. He might already have left for the Dread Forest, but she could use one of the elven cell phones that used tree magic to call him. Dad had his, but maybe one was left behind in the elven village.

  “Knot, go tell Finch what we’ve learned. I’m going to the elven village.”

  The cat meowed agreement and dashed up the Admin building’s steps as Keelie clutched her rose quartz and ran down the path toward Water Sprite Lane, keeping an eye out for any remaining elves. The strong wallop of Dread hit her as she approached the woods, but she breathed in and pushed on, breaking through the Dread spell as she entered the village.

  The streets were empty, but she heard the whinny of horses. A huge pickup truck and horse trailer were parked by the meeting hall, the trailer marked with the logo of the Silver Bough Jousting Company. Keelie almost gasped with relief that the village wasn’t totally empty.

  Two jousters appeared, leading their tall, muscular horses. Then her heart raced as she heard Sean’s voice shouting out orders.

  He appeared from behind the trailer. “Bromliel, do we have enough hay in the back?”

  Keelie stepped toward him. Did she still love him, or was this just her body reacting out of memory?

  Sean noticed her and stared disbelievingly. “Keelie?” He rushed toward her. “You’re going with us.” A statement-not a command, nor a request. His voice was happy, reminding her of the old Sean, the one who loved her. “You can ride with me in the truck.”

  Part of Keelie wished she could hop into that truck and be the girl he wanted her to be, but she knew she couldn’t.

  “Sean, I didn’t come to see you. I need to speak to Elianard. It’s urgent. Do you have an elven cell phone I can use?”

  “And why would you need to speak with the Lore Master, if not to make travel arrangements?” a familiar voice grated.

  “Lord Niriel.” Keelie bowed her head to him. She was the daughter of the Lord of the Dread Forest and she would act accordingly. She would be respectful to Niriel for her father’s sake, although she wanted to throw a mudball at the haughty, pinched-faced elf traitor.

  He bowed his head in return. Dressed in the richly embroidered robes that reflected his high-ranking Council position, he seemed like a character from a fairy tale. The evil vizier, perhaps.

  “I need to speak to Elianard about the Compendium,” Keelie said curtly. Time was growing short.

  “It’s too late for apologies. Didn’t you destroy our most valued treasure? Have you come to grovel for forgiveness?” A puzzled expression crossed Niriel’s face, as if he was pondering a riddle. The horses in the trailer stomped their hooves on the metal floor. They were growing impatient, as if they sensed danger looming near.

  “I thought I heard my name,” Elianard said as he walked up to them. He wore a green linen tunic with long flowing sleeves, the edges appliqued with silver oak leaves.

  “You’re still here!” Keelie rushed to him, leaving Lord Niriel open-mouthed at her lack of manners.

  “Keelie, why are you here?” Elianard frowned. “You are still forbidden to enter the village.”

  “I need your help in finding the Compendium. It wasn’t destroyed-Peascod has it.”

  “We have proof that it was destroyed. You cannot delay us with your human tactics,” Niriel huffed, raising his eyebrows at Elianard as if in warning.

  Keelie didn’t want to reveal too much in front of Niriel, but she didn’t have a choice. “The Compendium contains goblin magic as well as elven charms.”

  Elianard’s face paled. “Impossible.”

  “I think it has hidden layers that it’s revealing for the first time. Peascod took it, but I’m sure he learned about it from another.” She quickly told them about Tavyn the half-elf/half-goblin and his power grab. “Tavyn can use the power in the Compendium,
and he said if I didn’t bring it to him, then he would attack the faire.”

  “Even if we had the Compendium, why would we give it to you to trade to this abomination?” Niriel’s scalding gaze made it clear that he included her in that category.

  Elianard was frowning, deep in thought.

  “Because I don’t think Tavyn is going to stop at the faire. I’ve seen the goblins in Oregon and in California. They’re everywhere, and in every city. Tavyn can rally them, form an army, and attack humans as well as elves. You won’t be safe hiding in the Dread Forest for long.”

  “Let him attack. We’ll be ready,” Niriel said. “Enough of this foolishness. If your father won’t rein you in, then I will. You are to return to the Dread Forest, where you will reinforce the defenses of your home forest with your magic.”

  He grabbed her upper arm. “Sean, take charge of her. You wanted her, now you can have her.”

  “Dad, this is wrong.” Sean’s face flushed red.

  Keelie turned to Sean, pleading with her eyes for him to help her. He wouldn’t look at her, but his hands fisted and his eyebrows slammed together in a mighty frown.

  “What?” Niriel asked, seemingly amused by his son’s anger. “Do you question me?”

  “Yes, I do,” Sean cried. “You may not approve of Keelie, but I think she’s right. I fought Tavyn, and I know what he is capable of. He could attack the Dread Forest, and if he has a huge army of goblins, we don’t stand a chance against them.”

  Keelie raised her fist, ready to punch Niriel to free herself, but Elianard stepped forward, hands outstretched. “Niriel, release Keliel. This is no way to treat a tree shepherdess. She is the daughter of the Lord of the Dread Forest.”

  Niriel looked shocked that Elianard had come to her defense. Keelie was a little surprised, too.

  Elianard folded his arms and looked down his nose at Niriel.

  Niriel glowered. “You would follow Zekeliel.”

  Elianard nodded. “He is the Lord of the Forest. Our chosen leader. And Keliel is right-if the Compendium still exists, we cannot leave it in goblin hands.”

  Niriel scowled and shoved Keelie toward Elianard. “Do with her as you wish. She’s nothing but a curse upon the elves with her mixed blood.” A landing helicopter distracted him. “I must see to the evacuation.”