The Goblin's Curse (32 page)

Keelie stepped into the center and read the Oblivion spell. As she read, a pale gray mist appeared from beneath her feet and crawled to each of the members of the circle, who looked apprehensive but didn’t break ranks. When all had been touched by the mist, it expanded, then burst, and flowed like waves across the fairegrounds.

“Everyone will remember a strong earthquake,” Keelie said as she completed the spell.

She cut her eyes over to Herne. “I hope it works.”

The mist traveled through the faire, touching reporters, shopkeepers, and performers. A glazed look formed in their eyes when the magic settled on them.

Teresa Smith stopped nearby, her curious expression replaced by blankness. “What am I doing here?” she asked herself.

Finch winked at Keelie. “I’ve got this.”

Tarl the mud man walked up to Teresa. “You’re here to cover the earthquake.”

Several other High Mountain Faire folk joined them. “I was in my shop when all of my pottery went flying out the window,” Sam the Potter said. “I found one of Hob’s masks all the way down here.” He lifted a broken, bone-white mask, then tossed it on a heap of trash and wiped his hands. “Creepy thing.”

Finch joined the gathered group, and the cameraman swung his camera toward her.

“Can you tell us about the faire?” Teresa Smith held the microphone up to Finch.

Finch smiled. Her eyes sparkled, and she looked directly into the camera as the magical gray mist drifted around it. “Despite the earthquake here at the High Mountain Renaissance Faire, I’d like to reassure the public that the faire will be as good as new this weekend. The Middle Ages will be alive and kicking and everyone is invited to come join in the merriment.”

Teresa Smith nodded. “You heard it here first. The High Mountain Renaissance Faire will be opened to the public after the unusual earthquake that hit the Fort Collins area.”

Keelie hoped the oblivion spell would spread across the airwaves, into the minds of any people who’d seen earlier newscasts.

“Hey, where did that tree come from?” Tarl was looking
up into the branches of an aspen that now spread its branches over the Admin building.

Uh oh. That one would have to remain a mystery.

Keelie juggled the Compendium from one arm to the other. It was heavy and awkward. So cumbersome. It was past time to get this thing online—the Dread Forest elves must never lose their lore again. She also wondered if she could talk to Sylvus about maybe transforming the book of knowledge into something more modern, like a tablet computer with a wooden case.

The book rose and hovered in midair, and the pages opened to a new section.

Object Transformation:

You will need a wooden staff …

This was more like it. Keelie headed to the meadow to talk to Hrok.

The next day, Keelie found Sally examining her tarot booth. The structure wasn’t in too bad shape, except for a sagging corner. It looked like the support post had suffered some damage.

“Do the cards say anything about Tavyn?” Keelie asked.

Sally shook her head. “No sign of a goblin wizard, but the cards reveal that new powers and new magic have been awakened.

Mara joined them, holding little Ava’s hand. Ava reached up to Keelie with her chubby fingers, then laughed when a
bhata
landed on Keelie’s shoulder.

Its twiggy face bent in a grin, and its berry eyes radiated happiness. It climbed down to Ava.

Keelie looked at Mara. “Can you see that?”

Mara nodded.

Keelie turned to Sally. “You?”

She nodded as well.

“The humans with magic in their blood can see and feel the magic all the time now,” Mara said.

“Then you remember?” Keelie whispered.

Mara winked.

Ava laughed as the
bhata
danced around her. Knot strolled out into the open area. Ava squealed with delight. “Kitty.”

Knot’s tail bushed out. His eyes widened with fright when he saw the toddling little girl coming after him, squealing “Kitty, kitty, kitty” at the top of her lungs.

“Are you going to tell anyone?” Keelie asked Sally.

She shook her head. “The faire folk keep their secrets. It’s an unwritten law amongst us.”

Keelie knew the secrets of the faire would be safe.

In the woods behind the tarot booth, a huge antlered stag was watching her.

“If you ladies will excuse me, I need to go and check on something.”

Herne stood there, in his deer form, head straight and chest expanded. “What do you think?”

“You make a great buck. I don’t know if I’d hang out here during hunting season, though.”

“Good point.” Herne narrowed his eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He transformed into his human form. “I think there’s something you need to see.” He held out his arm. “Milady Keliel, if you will accompany me.”

Keelie mentally prepared herself for the whoosh.

A cool breeze brushed against her face, and then she stood before the spruce trees Bruce, Deuce, and Zeus. Their tangy scent filled her. She could look down and see all of Fort Collins below and the Rocky Mountains before her. Flowers grew around the stones where Cricket had been buried.

Sadly, she looked at the grave of her little friend, but she knew he rested in peace.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He pointed. “Watch.”

King Gneiss and Sir Davey stepped forward. Vangar and Finch landed in the meadow, their dragon forms huge and muscular. Dad was riding on Vangar’s back, balanced casually like an expert rider, with Sally in front of him. She looked thrilled and terrified at the same time.

A swirling vortex of light appeared and Fala stepped through, hands held high as if he were about to perform in front of an audience. He wore a gold circlet on his forehead and a glittering chain mail shirt.

Herne arched an eyebrow. “Bit overdressed?”

“What’s going on?” Keelie asked. She wondered why her magical friends were here.

Finch and Vangar shifted into human form.

Herne pointed to everyone gathered. “Keliel, since it is important for all races to work together, we have come together this day, and in this meadow, in honor of you and one whom you loved despite his differences. I decree this the first council meeting of the Circle of Magic.” He rested his hand against his chest. “I represent the goblins and the dark fae.”

Fala bowed his head. “I am here on behalf of the High Court and the Shining Ones.”

Dad smiled at her. “For the elves.”

Sally motioned with her hands. “For the humans.”

Sir Davey and King Gneiss removed their hats, both with snowy plumes. “We represent the dwarves.”

Finch and Vangar stepped up to her. “We represent the magical beasts and shapeshifters of this world.”

“Keliel Heartwood, you have done what others thought would never happen. You have brought us together in peace.”

In her mind, Keelie heard Hrok’s voice.
You, my dear Daughter of the Forest, represent the Great Sylvus and the trees.

Keelie looked at her friends and wiped at the corner of her eye. Not that she was getting teary or anything. “Then I guess it’s time to open this meeting of the joint council, the Circle of Magic.”

epilogue

Keelie sat on her narrow bed in the newly repaired Swiss Miss Chalet. Their salvaged belongings were packed up, and they were ready to head out as soon as Dad finished the business paperwork. Insurance adjustors had been crawling all over the faire the last few days.

She pressed the tree app on her newly transformed Compendium. She loved the wooden finish (hawthorn, High Mountain Renaissance Faire).

Words scrolled across her screen.

It was Hrok. She had the best connection to him.

Hello, milady.

She keyboarded her answer.

You know you’ll be able to keep in contact if you need me.

Yes, Keliel.

She loved how Sylvus had combined forest magic and technology. She’d used the object transformation spell he’d shown her to turn the Compendium into a tablet computer.

After the fires and the magical confrontation with the goblins, Dad had decided they needed a break. He’d been in contact with the Dread Forest, and when Alora, the Queen Tree, asked to see Keelie, they’d decided to skip the Wildewood Faire and head back to their home forest. Keelie hated saying goodbye to her friends, but Dad said they would pick up the Ren Faire circuit again in a few months. They needed to replenish their stock of furniture to sell, in any case.

Keelie looked forward to helping Dad, and of course she had to adjust to monitoring the forests of the Northern Hemisphere on her tablet computer. She would miss her friends, but Zabrina was in Edgewood, and Elia was close to her delivery date.

Sean and the Silver Bough Jousting Company had booked Ren Faire gigs year-round, so he wouldn’t be returning to the Dread Forest anytime soon. Although saddened at the loss of their relationship, Keelie knew they would become friends in time. And didn’t she have lots of time? Maybe it was for the best.

A loud ding from her tablet pulled Keelie out of her thoughts. She looked down and saw that a new icon had appeared on her tablet’s menus: an antlered deer head.

She recognized that deer. She pressed the dark nose.

“You called?” a familiar voice said. A tall, handsome man appeared before her, dressed in green that complimented his curling chestnut hair and, yes, the deer antlers coming out of his head. Herne, hottie god of the hunt.

“Did I call you?”

“You did.” He looked around the tiny camper cabin. “Very cozy. Like a turtle, but with a hotplate and a bookshelf.” He smiled at her. “If you ever need me, just press my app and I’ll be at your side.”

“A god with an app. Gotta love progress,” Keelie said. “But I don’t think I need the Herne app.”

Herne pretended to look hurt, but then smiled sunnily, with more than a hint of mischief. “Don’t delete it, Keelie. You have a tendency to find yourself in misadventures.”

“I don’t think I’ll be having any more adventures. I’m going to be working as a messenger and spending time with my family.”

“Ah, family. You’ll find that the definition of that word will change drastically for you, and soon.”

At Keelie’s wary frown, Herne smiled and spread his arms wide. ”My dear Keliel, your adventures are just beginning.”

Keelie looked down at her tablet, where other mysterious apps were popping into existence.

She grinned. Herne didn’t know the half of it.

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my wonderful editors Brian Farrey-Latz and Sandy Sullivan, whose keen eyes catch every opportunity to improve a story. I’m constantly amazed at Sandy’s knowledge of Keelie’s world. She remembers every nook and cranny of the faires, the Dread Forest, and Under-the-Hill and could probably lead guided tours while singing the festival songs of the elves. It’s a treat to work with such talented folk!

Also, thanks to the great folk of the National Park Service, who have always been ready with answers to tree questions, especially Keelie’s great friend Wyndeth Davis. To Rennies everywhere—huzzah! You make me happy.