Gillian Summers - The goblin's curse

Outside, Keelie gagged at the smell of smoke and burnt wood. She swallowed back bile and lit one of the lanterns Janice kept under a table by the door, then made her way toward Wood Row, where many of the booth owners had gathered in little groups, fear clinging to them as they discussed the fire. The faire was their livelihood, and the blaze was not as scary to them as its cause.

She overheard snippets: “irresponsible blacksmith”-“Vangar was wrong”-“the new faire director is incompetent.”

Keelie hurried by, hoping no one noticed her. She didn’t want to talk to anybody about the tragedy of losing her home. Of losing Heartwood. Knot ran ahead, diving from tree to tree and skulking behind corners as if he was on the hunt, protecting her.

The bhata jumped from branch to branch as they followed her, watching. It wasn’t just the humans who were upset and fearful. Beneath the layer of fear that cloaked trees and fae and people, Keelie sensed another disturbance upsetting the balance of the faire and the surrounding forest… but she couldn’t tell what it was.

The feithid daoine buzzed above her. All of the fae had been rattled. Knot swatted at several of the bug fairies as they dive-bombed him.

Keelie snapped her fingers to get Knot’s attention. “Come on. Dad is waiting at Hob’s shop.”

Knot hissed.

“Yeah, I know you don’t like him,” Keelie said. “Jealous.”

Keelie’s steps slowed as she walked up the path that led to the shop. She didn’t want to see the burned ruins of her home. Something rustled in the bushes nearby, and she heard a deep, whispered, “Keelie. I need to talk to you.”

Fear rushed through her and her heart pulsed super fast. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me.” Vangar straightened and stepped out from behind the bushes.

“Why are you here?” Keelie hissed, but Knot ran up to the blacksmith and clawed his leather boots, a sign of affection.

Keelie would’ve liked to claw the blacksmith’s eyes out. “Hob was right-your forge was dangerous.” Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked, embarrassed to show weakness in front of the dragon who had destroyed Heartwood.

He shook his head in denial. “I need your help.”

Keelie stopped breathing, as if afraid that smoke would fill her lungs. “What? You can’t be serious.”

“My forge didn’t start the fire. I’d put safety spells around my shop so that the fire couldn’t escape. Someone with a lot of power removed them. I’ve been set up, and Finch said that you would be fair-minded and help me clear my name.”

“Finch told you to ask me for help? Me? I don’t have a bed, or clothes, or schoolbooks, or-or-” Tears clouded her vision, again. Keelie was going to have a long discussion with the faire director.

Vangar looked forlorn and lost. “I was sent here to protect you. Do you think I would set your house and store on fire? My honor is all to me. I would not harm my charge.”

Keelie shook her head, trying to make sense of what Vangar had said. “ Who sent you to protect me?”

“He forbade me to tell you.”

“So, it was a he?”

Vangar’s face clouded over with confusion and anxiety.

“Whatever. My dad is waiting for me at Hob’s shop.”

“It was that little pissant that set me up.” Vangar hissed, smoke blowing from between his clenched teeth. “He’s the one behind the fire.”

Aghast, Keelie stared at Vangar. “He’s been nothing but kind and helpful. How dare you accuse him?”

“Think about it. He set me up. First, he was the one who convinced everyone that my forge was a fire hazard. “

“Because your forge was a fire hazard. It took no skill to get people to believe it.”

“But I have the magical ability to stop fire,” Vangar said between clenched teeth. “I’m a dragon. If I’d been home, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“I’ll keep an open mind.” Keelie forced the words out to appease the blacksmith, who seemed to be walking a bridge between reality and buggy-buggy land. “And I’ll keep an eye on Hob,” she said. “I need to go.”

He swept his hand forward as if guiding her up the path. “Be on your way, milady, but keep this conversation between the two of us.”

Keelie edged past him, then blinked as he vanished into the bushes. Finch definitely had a lot of explaining to do.

Outside Hob’s shop, Dad was waiting for her. “Where have you been?”

“I ran into some people who wanted to give me their condolences on the fire.” Keelie made a quick decision not to tell her father about Vangar or how he’d asked for her help in proving his innocence-not for Vangar’s sake, but because Dad had enough on his mind. Vangar had given her something to think about, and his words troubled her.

Dad nodded. “It’s been a shock to the entire faire. Everyone wants to help.”

Now she’d lied to her father. Her home was a pile of smoldering debris. Keelie choked back tears as silvery smoke streamed up from the wreckage. She couldn’t believe she’d been put in this position. Strange, how the smoldering remains of Heartwood remained confined in a circle. And that Hobknocker’s, with its fragile paper masks, had been unaffected.

Hob stepped out onto the porch, cradling the potted goblin tree in his arms. “Here you go, Zeke. I admire your dedication to your plants.” He lowered the tree down onto the front steps leading to his shop. “Are you sure you want to take it tonight?”

Dad motioned toward Keelie. “Since the little tree is the only thing left of Heartwood… ”

“Yes, I missed it so much. I couldn’t spend another night without my tree.” Keelie sighed sadly, not faking, although her sadness wasn’t related to the angry and ungrateful beast of a tree.

The little goblin tree sent Keelie angry red thoughts. You lie. You don’t care about me. Nobody cares about me.

She smiled at the goblin tree, Hob, and Dad to mask what she was truly feeling, which was to toss the treeling onto the hot embers. You’re lucky to be alive. You’re going with us whether you want to or not.

Green-red anger seethed within the little tree. Keelie sensed the goblin taint flowing its sap like venom, slowly poisoning it with dark magic. She had to find a way to get it out before it got out of hand.

I know a secret that you don’t know, and when you find out, you’re going to die. They want you dead. All of them, for what you did.

She didn’t know what the little tree meant, so she ignored its ranting.

Dad picked up the tree and waved good night to Hob. “Thank you again for your help.”

“You would’ve done the same for me. I’m sorry about your loss, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it was Vangar who did this.”

Dad didn’t look over at the smoking ruin of what had been their shop and their home. “I don’t think it was Vangar who started the fire.” His voice weary. “We appreciate your help, Hob, in alerting the other shopkeepers to the fire.”

“Despite your generous spirit, Zeke, Vangar is the guilty party, and the other shopkeepers have complained about his forge.” Hob lifted his handsome face, and in the light glowing from within the shop defiance glinted in his eyes.

Hob definitely had it in for Vangar.

“Keelie, let’s go.” Dad’s voice was hard and crisp. One of the little goblin tree’s branches slapped Dad across the face. He didn’t flinch. Anyone who wasn’t familiar with trees would’ve assumed it was a breeze that made the branch move.

She followed Dad into the trees. She had no idea where they were going.

Once they were on the bridge, out of sight of the shops up the hill, Dad put down the pot and grabbed the goblin tree by its uppermost branches, letting the clay pot dangle over the edge of the bridge.