Gillian Summers - The goblin's curse

Where are you now, Keelie?

On the lane, headed toward the bridge.

A mental impression of a hug came from her father, and she sensed his worry, as well as a whiff of cinnamon.

She hurried on toward the bridge, halting when figures appeared out of the darkness on the other side of the stream. Keelie stopped, ready to run into the woods. She wondered if the goblins had come after her from another entrance to Under-the-Hill.

Moonlight filtered down through the branches and she saw that one of the advancing figures was tall, and the other came to just above his waist.

“Keelie?”

The relief that flooded her at the sound of her father’s voice made Keelie realize just how scared she’d been. She broke into a run and slammed into his chest, clutching his soft shirt and inhaling his scent. Sir Davey stood quietly next to her.

Dad’s big hand cradled her head and he murmured “There, there” while she sobbed, her tension eased by her father’s comforting presence.

After a moment she lifted her head. “There were so many of them, Dad.”

His worried eyes looked into hers and he grasped her face in his hands. “You are not to go down there again, do you understand? We’ll put guards at the entrance.”

Sir Davey nodded. “I’ll alert Finch. She’s said something about a magical shield. She and Vangar are working on combining their magic.”

Sharp prickles climbed Keelie’s leg and she reached down to pull Cricket from her jeans. Dad recoiled slightly at the sight of the little goblin, but he seemed to force himself to relax.

“Let’s go to my RV,” Davey said.

They walked back down the East Road toward the performer’s campground and Davey’s deluxe RV. Dad motioned to Keelie to be silent, and they said nothing as they passed the lights glimmering from tents and voices raised in song, oblivious to the danger just a few yards away.

In the RV, Davey turned on lights as Dad latched the door, then turned to Keelie.

Go away. Leave me alone, the goblin tree shouted in Keelie’s mind.

She’d forgotten that Sir Davey had taken it home with him. In the clay pot, huge chunks of amethyst surrounded the tree’s trunk. Sir Davey was using Earth magic to neutralize the sapling’s negativity. But it pushed its irate face out of its trunk and stuck its green tongue out.

Dad scowled at the tree. He turned back to Keelie. “On second thought, I want you to go back to Janice’s. You and Raven are to stay together at all times.”

Keelie frowned. “No way I’m walking all the way to Janice’s right now. Can’t I rest a minute? The goblins were really scary, and I hurt one of them, so they might think this fight is personal.”

Puny elves versus goblins. My vote is on the goblins. The tree sneered at them.

“I’m going to confer with the elves,” Dad said. “This will definitely propel them to make a decision.”

Davey looked up at Dad, his grim face shadowed by the lamplight. “What do you mean, ‘confer’? Niriel will stir up the elves with this information. That’s one elf I don’t trust.”

Dad shook his head. “The elves must know about the goblins. We can’t keep this a secret. The goblin army is indeed here, and Keelie’s found the entrance to their lair.”

Davey straightened. “I will call my brothers. The dwarves must know as well.”

“So do we tell the dragons too? Finch and Vangar?” Keelie asked. Ermentrude had kicked goblin butt up in the Northwoods.

“I’ll tell them,” Dad said. “You stay out of sight at Janice’s. There are those who will say that you’ve known where the goblins were all this time, and only chose now to reveal them to get yourself out of trouble.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Keelie said. “But what about the faire folk? The shopkeepers? Can we tell them? They’ll fight too.” Keelie imagined a scene out of an old monster movie, with angry peasants carrying torches and pitchforks as they stormed the castle.

“No humans.” Dad’s voice was firm-his “don’t argue” tone.

Outraged, Keelie was about to launch into argument anyway when she heard the trees crying out a warning. “What’s happening?”

Davey stuck his head out the RV door. “I smell wood smoke-it’s more than just camp fires.”

Dad lifted his head, listening. “Fire, on the other side of the hill. Davey, warn the others.”

The goblin tree began to chant. His tree voice creaked with malice. Burn. Burn. Burn.

Davey threw himself out of the RV and disappeared into the campground, his cries of “Fire!” cutting through the merriment.

Dad leaped out of the RV after him and ran to a large, military-style lodge-tent next to them, calling out, “Fire!” He ran on to the next tent as Tarl and his friends poured out of the lodge, tankards in hand, sniffing the air.

Dad ran back to the RV. “To Janice’s, Keelie,” he yelled, then raced up the road as Tarl’s men spread the alarm. In seconds, the spaces between the tents were full of faire workers who’d dropped their meals, guitars, and books to help.

Davey returned and grabbed a fire extinguisher from under a cabinet, which he handed to Keelie. “Take this to Janice. Not sure if she has one, and I have an extra.”

Keelie stared at the fire extinguisher. If the fire wasn’t controlled early, it would turn into a monster like the one that had engulfed Heartwood. No fire extinguisher could have stopped that one.

“I don’t want to run away,” Keelie said. “I’m part of this faire and I want to help.”

“You’re not running away,” Davey said earnestly. “You have to warn Janice so that she can save her shop and spread the alarm to those living on the grounds.”

Keelie grabbed the heavy red extinguisher and ran up the road, pushing past the blue-jean-clad faire folk who jostled past her, carrying shovels, rakes, buckets, and even more fire extinguishers as they rushed toward the blaze, visible now as an orange glow on the horizon near the jousting arena. Thomas the Glass Blower huffed his way down the path, carrying a hoe, Sam the Potter beside him.

“I wonder if this was Vangar the firebug’s doing,” Sam said.

“Don’t know, but Finch will defend him if it is,” Thomas answered as they glared at Keelie.

She was the only one headed away from danger as she turned toward Green Lady Herbs, wishing she had the Compendium.

“Hurry, Keelie!” a red-faced Raven shouted, waving Keelie to the herb shop.

Janice was hosing water onto the roof and around the building. “Keelie, thank goodness you’re here. I need your help. Go inside and cover my herbs and tinctures with cloth.”

Inside the shop, the sweet, woodsy scent was now mixed with the smell of burnt wood. Keelie blinked back tears-the faire was slowly dying. Shimmerlight, Lavender Lollipop, and Lily Limerton showed up and helped cover the herbs. Then Janice ran toward the jousting arena, the girls behind her.

The stands were fully engulfed, the flames shooting high into the trees. The trees shrieked in Keelie’s head, howling in terror as the flames licked at their trunks and branches.

Keelie joined a bucket brigade that scooped water from the horses’ spring-fed trough and passed buckets to be flung at the fire. It was like spitting into a volcano, but it was something. Endless buckets passed her on their way to the roaring inferno, and while her body worked mechanically, her mind was trying to soothe the forest.

She sensed her father’s voice as he worked on the other side of the fire, and then she felt her uncle and her grandmother joining in from their far forests. The tree shepherds were working together. Despite her fear and exhaustion, Keelie’s pride lightened her heart.