The Goblin's Curse: The Scions of Shadow Trilogy, Book 3 (The Faire Folk Saga)

by Summers, Gillian

  Twelve steps in, she discovered Cricket’s broken body lying against the wall. His little legs were sprawled carelessly, and his eyes were open wide, glazed with fear and frozen in death.

  A sob escaped from deep within her chest. She reached out and picked him up, cradling him against her chest. “Poor little guy. You didn’t deserve this.”

  “Halt.” The growled command came from behind.

  Keelie’s heart boomed loudly as she slowly turned around, fearing it was a goblin. She hoped it would understand why she was here and would let her go do what she must.

  “Help me. I just wanted to get his body and bury it with the respect and dignity that he deserves,” she said without looking up. She held Cricket in the palms of her hands and extended them so the goblin could see the body. The little creature’s sharp-taloned hands dangled.

  “Your kindness to others always amazes me. I think it is one of your better qualities.” The voice transformed, becoming warm and smooth.

  “Dad! What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He didn’t acknowledge her question, looking around the cavern instead. “Interesting place. Made by dragons—can you tell?”

  “Dragons, really?” What was up with her father?

  Dad seemed more relaxed and less rigid, less the angry elf, here in the goblins’ lair than he’d been up in Finch’s office.

  “Yes, and since Peascod has invoked the anger of two dragons, in the end he will be dispatched to the Goddess of Death. One does not make a dragon angry without facing the consequences.” Dad’s voice was calm.

  “The Goddess of Death. I thought it was the Grim Reaper,” Keelie said.

  “The Grim Reaper is an image, sort of like Santa Claus. The Goddess of Death has her minions dress in black robes, and she carries a scythe, the whole scary thing, but she’s the one who runs the spirit world.”

  Keelie blinked and looked once more down at Cricket’s body.

  “Come, Keelie. Bring your companion and let us take him where his body can rise forth and meet the Great Sylvus,” Dad said gently. “Do not worry, daughter. Your friend will be put safely to rest.”

  Keelie nodded and blinked. She would not cry. “Dad, what happened to you?”

  “Why?” His eyes widened as if he realized something was different about him. “I feel more my old self now. I’ve felt odd since arriving at the faire.” He touched the smooth rock wall.

  And acted odd, too. Touching the dirt in her pocket, Keelie tilted her head fifteen degrees, called upon Earth magic, and focused on Dad. “Allow me to see truly.”

  Fading green tendrils surrounded Dad. It looked like nature magic, the kind used by elves.

  “I think you’ve been enchanted,” Keelie said.

  Dad narrowed his eyes. He lifted his hands and looked at them as if he could see the spell. “Enchanted. That would explain why I cast my vote at the Council meeting for the elves to leave. My vote was the deciding factor. Niriel was pleased.”

  “He said you’d been acting more like a proper elf,” Keelie said.

  “So he did.” Dad grimaced. “Niriel enchanted me. Yet despite that, I followed you here. I remember thinking that I needed to go to the elven village, but still, my feet stayed on the path behind you.”

  “The magic doesn’t seem to work at all in this cavern,” Keelie said. “You’re shielded from its influence.”

  “I need a strong talisman to shield me from Niriel’s magic above ground, and I think I know who can help.” Dad gestured toward the entrance. “We need to return to the surface before we meet up with any goblins.”

  “Dad, I can draw on Earth magic directly to shield myself from the Dread, so I can spare this.” Keelie put the rose quartz in his hand and closed his fingers around it. “I hope it helps.”

  He smiled tenderly. “Thank you.” Putting a hand on her shoulder, he followed as she headed out, holding Cricket’s body tightly.

  When they reached the surface, Keelie gulped in the fresh air. Relief flowed through her at having her dad back. “Who can help find a permanent talisman to protect you?” she asked. “That rose quartz isn’t meant to defend against heavy-duty magic.”

  “Sir Davey, who else? But first, let us put your little friend to rest.” Dad’s voice was gentle as he looked at Cricket.

  “Where?” Keelie asked.

  “We’re going to ask for a little help from the trees to find the proper resting place.” Hrok, Dad telepathically called.

  Yes, Tree Shepherd. Green filled Keelie’s mind.

  We need your assistance.

  Images of herself holding Cricket spun through her mind like a zoetrope, and then circulated through all the trees in the surrounding forests and mountaintops.

  We hear your call, Tree Shepherd.

  Dad’s presence and voice encompassed the trees as he instructed them to find a resting place for the little goblin. Green magic enfolded Keelie; she felt a sense of peace, and a oneness with the trees and their energy. She hadn’t known that Dad wielded quite this much power.

  Feeling lighter, she opened her eyes to see herself floating above the ground. Then a sickening wave of nausea overcame her as she experienced the familiar sensation of a whoosh.

  sixteen

  The vertigo faded as soon as Keelie’s feet touched the ground, Dad beside her. They’d landed in a valley tucked between two large Rocky Mountains, which rose like granite teeth on either side. Red, yellow, and orange wildflowers carpeted the meadow where they stood.

  The afternoon sun was low on the horizon, its light golden and soft. Fresh air brushed against Keelie’s face and she inhaled deeply. She turned to look at Dad. “I didn’t know you could transport to another location.”

  Dad staggered, pale. “I didn’t know, either. Ever since we’ve returned from the Northwoods, my powers have surged, and I don’t know how or why. I don’t even know if it’s permanent or just the result of the wild magic we were exposed to.”

  “I’m impressed. But where are we, and how do we get back?” Keelie asked.

  “Trust.” Dad pointed to the right. “Why don’t you ask them where we are?”

  Three Colorado Spruce trees greeted her, their green voices blended as one. Hello, Tree Shepherdess.

  Keelie reached out with her tree sense. Hello.

  Your father has become strong, and he is favored by the Great Sylvus.

  Pride coursed through her.

  What are your names? Keelie asked. She sensed that these trees were very nice. This could be a wonderful place for Cricket.

  The first, round tree answered. I am Bruce. He had a jolly tone.

  The second, skinny tree waved his branches. You can call me Deuce. His voice was nasally.

  You have the privilege of addressing me as Zeus. The third, very tall spruce had a deep baritone echo to his tree speak.

  Keelie bowed her head to hide her smile. She didn’t want to offend these trees. Very nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances.

  Dad walked up to the trees and bowed his head respectfully.

  It is time, Bruce said.

  You know why we’re here? Keelie asked. She wasn’t sure yet if they would bury Cricket here, but if they did, she had to know why these trees were allowing a goblin to be buried among their roots. She shuddered, remembering her recent experience in the Redwood Forest with a goblin-infected tree.

  A shower of green left Deuce’s branches, laying a trail across the ground that led to a rocky outcrop. The Great Sylvus has asked us to help the little one to carry on his journey.

  This wasn’t the first time Keelie had had indirect contact with the elven deity.

  Several bhata climbed through the branches of the spruce trees. Feithid daoine buzzed near the top of each tree like a crown of insects. Pixies, the little light fairies, danced in the meadow, and hundreds of butterflies waltzed in midair with them.

  It was a peaceful place, and Keelie felt better knowing that this was where Cricket would rest.r />
  The pixies flew to Keelie, and Cricket’s body was surrounded by light. The little goblin floated out of her arms to the spruces, and each took a turn holding him in their branches.

  The pixies lowered Cricket to the ground, their bodies creating a glowing pillow upon which he rested. Keelie gathered wildflowers and placed them around him.

  The trees watched in reverent silence.

  Keelie remembered the Tree Lorem last summer for the Aspen Queen, and felt the need to speak.

  “May your spirit rest in peace, my little friend,” she said as she sniffed. A little sparkle shot out of the grave and joined the glittering pixies. They winked out once Cricket’s bright light had joined them.

  The spruce trees sighed in unison.

  Do not worry, Tree Shepherdess. All will be well. Bruce waved his branches.

  Thank you. Keelie smiled through tears.

  Dad reached out his hand and she accepted it. “All will be well,” he said.

  With a green whoosh, they traveled back to the faire, landing outside the elven village on the path hidden by the trees. Keelie heard the sound of jingling harnesses and chain mail. Sean, Bromliel, and some of the other jousters rode by on horseback, and she and Dad had to jump out of their way.

  Keelie and Dad’s sudden arrival startled the horses, and the elves had to rein in their frightened animals.

  “Whoa!” Sean shouted. “Lord Zekeliel.”

  “Pardon me, gentlemen, my timing is off.” Dad bowed gracefully.

  “What are you doing here?” Sean asked. “You’re supposed to be helping my father.”

  Above the elven village, helicopter rotors beat the air.

  So soon?

  Sean straightened in his saddle, haughty and handsome. He met his elven companions’ eyes, as if they all shared a secret.

  “You can’t leave yet.” Keelie whirled around and grabbed the reins of Sean’s bay gelding. The horse stepped sideways, but, well-trained, didn’t startle.

  “If you’re an elf, then you will return to the Dread Forest with the rest of us,” Sean said. “Where do you stand in this world, Keliel?”

  “You’re really and truly abandoning the faire?” She’d hoped maybe Sean would stay.

  “If the threat was a human one, or a natural one, we would stay. But goblins—they’re after us, Keelie. We have our own lands to protect. Our own forest.” He held out his hand. “Come with me, and you and I will defend our Dread Forest.”

  A sharp pain lanced through her chest as she realized how far apart she and Sean had grown in only a few days.

  His expression softened. “Keelie, I will speak to the Council on your behalf and tell them that the fae magic in your blood contaminates your decisions. They will forgive you.”

  Saddened, Keelie saw that he truly thought he was being kind.

  “It isn’t too late. For us.” Sean’s eyes pleaded with her to say yes.

  Releasing the horse’s reins, Keelie shook her head. “I have to stay.”

  Dad came to Keelie’s side. “Stand beside us, Sean, and persuade the other elves to join us against the goblins. Let’s put a stop to Peascod once and for all.”

  Sean frowned. “Lord Zekeliel, you helped form our escape plan. You yourself said that humans are in no danger. Humans can’t even see goblins, remember? I cannot join your foolish venture. Our forest needs us.” Sean turned his horse, as did all the other elves.

  Before he galloped away, Bromliel turned around and bowed his head. “Good luck to you, Daughter of the Forest. Lord of the Forest.” He clicked his heels against his horse’s side and cantered away after Sean and the others.

  “They’re really leaving.” Keelie looked up at Dad. Another helicopter circled above. “Dad, what you said before, about goblins not hurting humans, might not be true.”

  Dad watched the helicopter fly off, then shook his head. “Humans have never seen goblins, and some goblins live side by side with them, thriving on their refuse. Why would they hurt them?”

  “Because it’s an army?” Keelie sighed. “I think things are very different now. Peascod is leading them, for one thing.”

  “If we had a large number of magical warriors, then the goblins might be swayed not to attack,” Dad said thoughtfully. “We could turn them against Peascod.”

  “Where are we going to find magical warriors?” Keelie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Dad frowned. “I still believe that humans are in no danger here.”

  “Except that if Peascod wins, the whole world will suffer.” Keelie looked closely at her father. “We need to get you a stronger talisman soon.” She bit her lip. “The only other option is … ”

  “What are you thinking?” Dad cast a worried look in her direction.

  “I’m thinking that in order to keep the humans safe here, they need to know what they’re up against. They need to know about the goblins because no one else is willing to protect them. They need to know about the magic, so that they can defend themselves.”

  Dad’s mouth dropped open, and then he closed it quickly. “Why would they believe you? How would they defend against a foe they can’t see, who might not even want to harm them?” His shoulders slumped. “I need to rest now. In the morning, let’s talk to the dragons, after we stop at Sir Davey’s RV to find a talisman. I do not want to come under another of Niriel’s enchantments.”

  seventeen

  The next morning, Keelie slipped out early to grab tea and muffins from Mrs. Butters’ shop. The place was practically deserted without the early rising jousters.

  “Your father’s gone to see Sir Davey,” Janice said when Keelie returned. “He doesn’t look well.”

  “Alone?” Keelie set out a couple of muffins and abandoned the tea on the table. “I brought breakfast. Gotta go.”

  She raced through the faire’s lanes. She spotted Dad at last leaning against Sir Davey’s RV. His face was pale, with sickly green undertones.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, forcing the panic of out her voice.

  “I feel the enchantment becoming stronger, trying to take over—I feel the need to leave with the elves. It’s as if I’ve been infected with something.”

  “We need to get that talisman,” Keelie said. She helped Dad inside.

  It seemed very quiet, considering the goblin tree was there.

  “Davey?” Dad called from the doorway.

  No answer.

  Dad dropped into one of the recliners by the door.

  Keelie heard a moan from the bedroom and walked silently toward the back, apprehension slowing her steps.

  Sir Davey lay on the floor, unconscious, blood pooling around his head. Was he dead?

  Keelie ran to kneel at his side. “Dad, over here! Sir Davey?” She touched his arm. Please be alive.

  Dad staggered in and yanked off one of Sir Davey’s boots. He grabbed the foot, in its sparkly amethyst-colored sock.

  Keelie raised her eyebrows.

  “I need to check his vitals, and a dwarf’s pulse beats strongest in the soles of his feet.”

  Sir Davey moaned and Keelie let out the breath she’d been holding, relieved when Sir Davey moved his hand and tried to sit up.

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  Dad propped Sir Davey up against the wall. The dwarf opened his eyes, then moaned and closed them again, pressing a hand against the wound on his forehead. “I didn’t see them—they hit me upside the head with a heavy object and took that tree before I could stop them.”

  “The goblin tree has been stolen?” Keelie scanned the interior of the RV, although she didn’t know what she was searching for. A trail of potting soil?

  “Who’d want it?” Dad shook his head. “We’ll find it later. We need to treat your wounds.”

  Keelie wet a clean washcloth in the bathroom and found bandages and some of Janice’s herbal healing salve in the cabinet.

  Once she’d bandaged his head, Dad helping out, Sir Davey sat down in the diner-style booth i
n the kitchen.

  “I’ll make coffee,” Keelie said.

  “Please.” Davey shook his head as if to clear it.

  “Make me some tea.” Dad lowered himself across from Sir Davey.

  As she prepared the coffee, Keelie reached out telepathically to Hrok. He might be able to sense the goblin tree.

  Hrok?

  Yes, milady.

  Someone has injured Sir Davey and stolen the aspen sapling.

  Oh dear. Whoever has that tree doesn’t know what they’re in for. Hrok seemed amused.

  We have to find it. Alert the trees.

  I will, Daughter of the Forest.

  Once the coffee had finished brewing, Keelie poured Sir Davey a cup and brought it to him. “Thanks, lass.”

  She placed a cup of chamomile tea in front of Dad, and he nodded his thanks. She poured coffee and sat down with them in the circular booth.

  “I alerted Hrok about the missing goblin tree,” Keelie said.

  “It will be interesting to discover who has taken it.” Dad grasped the cup in his thin fingers. “Davey, I need some sort of talisman. I’ve been enchanted, and we think it’s Niriel’s doing.”

  Davey scowled. “I’ve always known that elf was a bad seed.”

  Dad sipped his tea, then lowered the mug. “The first group of elves have already left, and the others are awaiting the return of the helicopters.”

  Sir Davey looked up. “So much for waiting several days before making a decision.”

  “I cast the deciding vote to leave, under magical influence. It seems my vote carries more sway than those of other Council members,” Dad said.

  “Sean hasn’t left yet. The trailers just arrived for the horses.” Keelie chewed on her lip.

  A frantic and rapid-fire knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Keelie’s heart thumped against her rib cage.

  Sir Davey rose cautiously, his hand pressed against his bandaged head.

  “Expecting company?” Keelie asked.

  “No.” Sir Davey opened the door, and to Keelie’s surprise, Knot rushed inside the RV followed by Sally the tarot reader. Her face was rosy red, as if she had jogged all the way from Equus Island. She looked like she was already having a bad day.