Gillian Summers - The goblin's curse

It struck her then that Sean would not think it was funny if she wore a fake elf ear over her human ear. He was always so serious. For some reason, this made her very sad.

“Well, I’m heading back up to help Dad. Hope you had a great workout,” she finally said.

Sean nodded. “It was useful to have the horses in the arena again before we work out in armor.”

She waited for him to ask her to dinner, or to take a walk with him, but his eyes kept returning to the baby goblin. “Those grow up fast, you know. Remember the goblins we battled in the Northwoods?”

“He’s one of Herne’s goblins. He won’t hurt anyone.” Keelie knew she’d made a mistake the minute she said Herne’s name. Sean’s eyes narrowed; he was jealous of the nature god, who had risked much to help them when they were attacked by Peascod’s army of rogue goblins.

Keelie suddenly remembered something. “I heard a jangle by the bridge earlier. It gave me chills. I thought Peascod was around.”

Sean’s eyes finally left Cricket and focused on her face. “Did you see any sign of him?” The power-hungry goblin had vanished during their final battle, abandoning his army to its fate.

“No, but there’s the big patch of dirt in the meadow that’s tainted by the Red Cap’s blood. Elianard told me once that goblin blood is useful, for those who know how to use it, when raising power with dark magic. We need to figure out how to clean the area.” Too bad the EPA didn’t do magical soil cleaning.

“I feel helpless-I don’t know how to do that. This is an example of what I’ve been talking about. You’re the one who can solve these things, but what can I do to keep you safe?” Sean gazed intently at her.

“Just be with me. I have fairy guardians and dragon guardians-I don’t need you to keep me safe. I need you to keep me real.”

The expression in his leaf-green eyes told her nothing.

If you were a tree, I’d know what you were thinking.

“As for my dangerous goblin-” She put a hand up to touch Cricket. The little goblin grabbed her fingers and nibbled at her fingernails. She pulled her hand away and reached out to Sean to show that she was unharmed. “See? He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“So you say. They’re smart, and destructive, and evil. You can’t convince me otherwise, especially after what we went through with them.”

“Okay, guess I can’t. See you around?” Keelie was mad now, but she still wanted to see Sean later, away from all the other elves.

He nodded, then turned to look at the field again, consulting his clipboard. No goodbye hug, no see-you-later kiss.

Keelie wanted to plant her finely crafted, medieval-style boot into his muscular, well-shaped elven backside, but instead she strode up the hill, fuming about pig-headed elves. Cricket clambered down and raced ahead.

She hadn’t told the truth-she didn’t have to go back to Heartwood, but she headed there anyway in case Sean was watching her. She pretended to fix her boot laces partway up the hill and glanced his way, but he was on the other side of the list field, talking to one of the mounted knights. And she was acting like a lovesick idiot.

Suddenly she was angry, but not at Sean. Get over yourself, Keelie, she thought. You are independent and strong. You don’t need a boyfriend hanging all over you to be important. How many tree shepherds were there?

Thirty-two. The voice in her mind was familiar.

Dad, quit peeking in my private girl thoughts.

I’m not peeking. You are yelling. Every tree in this forest heard you. They’re discussing your relationship with Sean.

Whoops. Need some help at the shop, Daddy dearest?

As a matter of fact, yes. I’ll fix us some tea if you come dust and polish the counter, and I’ll tell you of my adventures digging up the blasted treeling.

Deal. Keelie hurried up the path, relieved that Dad had gotten the little aspen out of the meadow without her help.

Cleaning Heartwood’s counter would be a treat. It was one of the things that had drawn her into her new life when she’d first arrived and was rediscovering her power to communicate with trees. The counter was hewn out of a wide and curvy slice of tree, but what a tree. It must have been immense, and this piece of it lived on. Knots and rings showed through its polished top, and the sides had animal carvings that followed the natural curve of the tree trunk. At night, by candlelight, the carved animals appeared to move. The bottom of the counter was carved to look like roots digging deep in the floor. Whenever Keelie polished it, the wood showed her scenes of its long life.

At Heartwood, Dad was mounting caged crystals onto the back of a chair. “Cleaning supplies are in the back room.” He didn’t even look her way.

On her way to the storeroom, Keelie saw Cricket sitting on the stairs to her apartment, Knot at his side. The cat showed his pointy fangs in a kitty grin. The little goblin brightened and skittered toward her, climbing her jeans and perching on her shoulder as she tidied up, then gathered a pile of soft polishing cloths and a bottle of lemon oil. Knot had fallen asleep draped over the stair, snoozing. She got quickly to work, giving the counter a thin coat of oil, then rubbing it in until the wood glowed.

“That little tree has some issues,” Dad remarked.

“I know. I feel a little guilty about disliking it, since it’s my fault it was planted in that spot.” Keelie refrained from saying “goblin blood” although no one was around to hear.

“Davey helped me dig it up. We used a wheelbarrow to haul it up here.”

Keelie straightened. “Here, where?” She looked around.

Dad pointed at the front corner of the shop, where a large half whiskey barrel held a green-leafed sapling, its roots covered in a tidy brown mulch. “We tucked it in snugly. It’ll sleep for a day or so.”

“Thank goodness, because otherwise we wouldn’t get any sleep.”

Dad grinned. “Tell me about it.”

With the tree safely out of harm’s way, Keelie thought about Sean. She attacked the surface of the counter with the polishing cloth, easing her anger and confusion with work.

As she polished, she lost herself in the stories that the wood underneath her fingers was telling. No people ever starred in tree stories, but they were full of heroes and villains and misunderstood younglings.

Feeling very much like one of the defiant saplings in the counter tree’s stories, she put away the polishing cloth and started to dust the merchandise.

“Are you almost ready?” a man in a bushy mustache asked as he passed by the shop, juggling balls as he walked.

“Absolutely!” Dad answered him.

The man pushed a Ping-Pong ball out of his mouth and it joined the whirling balls.

“Hello, Oswald.” Janice struggled across the clearing with a basket stuffed full and covered by a cloth. The juggler bowed to her. “Hello, Heartwood,” Janice continued. “You folks hungry?”

“What’ve you got in there?” Keelie asked, running to help carry the loaded basket.

“A little dinner for my favorite tree shepherds.” Janice placed the basket on the flagstone floor, pulled the cloth back, and showed Keelie that the willow laundry basket was bursting with packages and covered plates. A heavenly aroma rose from one of the packages. “Fried chicken, broccoli, rice salad with nuts and currants, and freshly made rolls,” Janice announced.

She sure knew how to answer an unspoken question. As Janice went to speak to Dad, Keelie watched the woman’s face soften. She’d never have another mother, but Janice might be okay as a stepmom. And then Raven could be her sister.

Dad and Janice spoke, heads together, for a while, then Janice picked up the basket and sashayed up the wooden stairs to their apartment as if she knew he was still watching her. He was.