Gillian Summers - The goblin's curse

Shocked, Keelie opened herself to their telepathic conversation.

Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drop you now.

Go ahead and do it.

Was the little tree suicidal, pushing Dad like this? Had the fire driven Dad to the edge of sanity?

Her lantern swinging wildly, Keelie rushed over and tried to grab the tree’s trunk. “Stop, Dad. What are you doing? You’ve got to stop.”

Knot raced by and jumped on the bridge railing. “Meow!”

Dad’s look stopped her. “This tree has a choice. It can live, or if it wants to destroy itself, then I’ll make its wish come true. But it’s not going to take anyone else with it.”

Keelie didn’t like seeing her father like this. She forced herself to remain calm. “You’re scaring me, Dad. I don’t understand what you’re doing. Let’s take the tree to the elves. It’ll be safe, and none of them can hear it talking.”

“No! It will put them in danger.”

Keelie turned to the goblin tree, who pushed its face through the bark at her.

You stupid elves won’t figure out what’s going on, not before it’s too late.

She ignored it. “Dad, what did the goblin tree do that has you so upset?”

The treeling’s laughter echoed in her mind. The acorn doesn’t fall from the tree. Hey Zeke-she can’t figure it out. I’ll tell you what, Keliel Tree Talker. Dear old Dad thinks that your precious goblin and little ol’ me started the fire.

Keelie inhaled sharply and coughed as if smoke had filled her lungs again.

“Keelie?” Dad seemed as if he’d suddenly come back to himself.

“I’m okay.” But the tree definitely wasn’t. “Is it telling the truth?”

Dad nodded grimly.

The goblin tree laughed hysterically. Go ahead and toss me down to the river. I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to fly.

“Zeke, are you and Keelie okay?” A loud voice boomed from the other end of the bridge.

Keelie sighed with relief when she recognized Sir Davey.

“We’re fine,” Dad answered. “Stay back, Davey.”

“Folks said they saw you and Keelie walk toward Water Sprite Lane. Why don’t you rest at my camper?” Davey’s voice had a cautious tone.

Dad slowly nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

The goblin tree narrowed its eyes and chortled. They’re coming for you. They’re going to get you and your mean cat, too.

She had to think. So much had happened tonight. Vangar had said he had been set up-could he have been telling the truth? Keelie decided to look into it. Right now, she had to defuse the situation at hand, because it felt as if she was being dragged to a place between madness and sanity. It was a fragile border.

The stream burbled under the bridge. Keelie wondered if the sprite was down below listening to this conversation.

Even the bhata gathered in the trees had been silent as they watched the horror unfolding before them. A tree shepherd threatening a tree. She sensed their confusion.

“Dad, should we take the tree with us to the RV? No one will know it’s there, and its small enough to keep inside.”

The little goblin tree spat sap. I do not wish to be among humans. They’re filthy and nasty, and they’re loud.

Dad tightened his hold on the goblin tree’s branches. “Davey, this tree is responsible for what happened to Heartwood. It could’ve killed Keelie and destroyed the entire faire.”

Despite Dad’s command to stay back, Sir Davey came onto the bridge, his hand smoothing his Van Dyke beard. “There are those among the shop owners who think the blacksmith might be guilty. How can a tree have started a fire?”

“With a goblin. This tree’s roots have grown in the goblin taint. Its green soul has been twisted to evil.” Dad seemed more angry than sad at the transformation of the little tree. “It worked with the goblin to start the fire.”

Good thing Dad hadn’t worked with her in the Redwood Forest. He would have wanted to destroy all of the goblin-affected trees. A whole national park.

“Dad, let’s just take the goblin tree to the RV,” Keelie said. “We’ll search for a calming charm in the Compendium.” Her voice trailed away and a wave of loss washed over her. The Compendium had burned. She didn’t know how she’d tell Elianard. He’d never get over it, and he’d blame her for its loss. There was no other record of the spells and charms the Dread Forest elves had used for centuries, and she wouldn’t be able to look for a spell to counteract the evil effect of the Red Cap’s blood.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said finally. “I’ll contact Grandmother and Norzan. As tree shepherds, we can work together to find a solution.”

She had a new idea, one she didn’t dare tell her father. Maybe the Shining Ones-the Fairy High Court-could help her find an antidote for the goblin tree. If she could keep it alive for that long.

Dad pulled the goblin tree back over the bridge railing and lowered it onto the wooden planks. It howled as its trunk scraped the railing. “Take the cursed tree, Davey, but watch it closely.” Dad straightened as if summoning strength to continue on.

“No need to worry. I’ll have others to help me keep an eye on it.” Davey eyed the little tree warily, as if it might sprout bat wings and fangs. “Doesn’t look menacing. Just a skinny little tree.”

Knot trotted onto the bridge and sniffed around the tree’s container. “Meow.”

Keelie used to think understanding “cat” was hard, but once you really listened to the vowel arrangements and tonal inflection, it was easy.

“Later,” she whispered.

Knot crooked his tail. It was a sign he wasn’t happy, but she didn’t need the added stress of dealing with Vangar.

She’d search around Heartwood for clues. There had to be evidence of how the fire started, and she’d start with a talk with Finch. Although they’d put the fire out themselves, without help from a fire department, the resident dragon and fire expert probably could tell Keelie something about its cause.

“Keelie, come with me. We’ve been summoned by the elves,” Dad said.

“About what?” Keelie asked. “If they’re offering a group hug, I’ll pass.”

“Not a hug at all. They’re concerned about the forest, and because we’re tree shepherds, we must hear them, no matter that we have pressing problems of our own, like being homeless.” Dad’s voice was laced with bitterness.

Davey lifted the tree and it began smacking him with its branches, but he simply tilted his head back, out of reach. He walked around the side of the bridge, where he’d left a handcart, and plunked the beastly tree into it. The goblin tree rocked back and forth as if attempting an escape. Keelie wouldn’t have been surprised to see it push its roots out of the confines of the container and take off running into the woods on spindly root-feet.

If you crash and break your pot, then I’ll replant you in Knot’s litter box. Think about it-cat poo on your roots. So calm down and go with Sir Davey.

Knot swiveled his head around and meowed angrily.

The tree quit thrashing. I hate that cat. It sprayed me with urine.

Knot washed his tail, declaring his innocence, or at least his lack of concern.

Will you water me? I’m feeling a little dry after that attack. The tree was acting normal now. Seems there was a fate worse than being dumped into the stream-Knot’s litter box was treemageddon. Who knew?

Dad shook his head in disbelief. “Miraculous,” he said, bowing to Keelie.

Keelie dropped a curtsey in return.

Sir Davey seemed shocked at the tree’s sudden cooperation, since of course he hadn’t heard the conversation in tree speak.

Keelie smiled and explained. “I threatened to plant it in Knot’s litter box. Keep us posted.”