Gillian Summers: The goblin's curse

Keelie knew what to do. She lowered Hrok’s branch to the ground, placed her hand on the Compendium, and visualized the faire.

She’d never called upon a god before, but she would now. As Keelie pushed the branch into the ground, she felt for Earth magic, the place she had touched when calling on the forests. The branch vibrated. Stretching tall, it grew until it towered above her head. She smelled the spicy scent of Herne’s domain, but his energy was not hers. She couldn’t draw on it.

Dad’s eyes widened. “Daughter, what magic is this?”

“Sylvus’s,” she whispered. “Hold on, Dad.” She started to read from the book, supplying words that fit their situation: “Oh Great Sylvus, return us to our original home. Hear my cry. Hear my plea to return the faire and everyone within it to the Earth,” she concluded loudly.

In her mind, she saw a misty realm, and slowly, an image emerged of many hooded beings gathered around a circular hearth. She couldn’t see them clearly. She noted that some of them yawned as if they’d been awakened from a nap. Could these be the old gods?

She heard the deep-toned laughter of a god, one that was green-tinged and smelled of life. It had to be Sylvus.

Visualizing the High Mountain Renaissance Faire, Keelie recalled the many friends and memories she’d made there since arriving almost a year ago.

A strong wind blew all around her, and the noises of the battle faded in the background. Keelie heard Tavyn shouting “no.”

Green magic filled her and the ground rumbled beneath her feet.

She heard a deep voice in her mind.

You have been chosen to watch the green of Earth. To be messenger and arbitrator to the gods of old and the magical beings of the new times.

Keelie swallowed. She didn’t need another job. Why me?

You are one of the chosen.

The chosen? Keelie didn’t know if that was good or not, but she didn’t think she should argue with Sylvus. But, given that he was the god of the elves, she wanted to make sure he didn’t do things the elven way, not explaining things and situations to her.

Could you send me instructions before you send me out to do something? I’d really appreciate clear communication.

You have the Compendium. Fare thee well, Keliel Heartwood, until we meet again.

Greenness enveloped her, and then she felt the furnace-like heat of Herne’s kingdom. She drew up great armfuls of it and tossed it, like a heap of rope, toward the forest god.

She felt Herne’s surprise, and saw his melting chocolate eyes see her. He knew what she’d done for him. And then she knew no more.

When Keelie awoke, she saw Herne hovering next to her. He looked worried. Dad’s face floated next to Herne’s. Fala waved at her from the side, his outfit sparkling clean as if he hadn’t been in battle.

She tried to sit up, head aching. “Why am I on the ground? Are we back on Earth?”

“To answer your first question, you fainted when you called out to Sylvus,” Dad said.

“To answer your second question,” Herne said, interrupting Dad, “yes, we’re back on Earth. You did well, Keelie Heartwood.”

“Keelie?” Dad asked. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Suddenly, she remembered what Herne had been doing before she fainted and looked around wildly. “Where’s Tavyn? Did you get him?”

“He escaped in the chaos when we returned to Earth.” Fala frowned. “But we will catch him in good time. Do you recall that Peascod is no more?”

She nodded, shuddering at the memory of his death, and then grabbed hold of Herne’s breastplate and pulled him toward her. “I saw the old gods, and Sylvus, too. He spoke to me, Herne.”

“They must trust you, to allow you to see them,” Herne said. He didn’t seem surprised at her revelation.

Dad’s face appeared above her. “What did Sylvus say? Did he answer the riddle of the tree ring’s focus? Or about Lord Mariel’s Compromise?”

“I don’t know about the riddle or any compromise. He said that I’m to be a go-between for the old gods, and for magical beings too.” Fala and Herne exchanged glances. Keelie couldn’t read what passed between them.

“Things are going to be interesting from this point on-for humans, fairies, and elves,” Fala said.

A helicopter flew overhead. “Have the elves come back to the faire?” Keelie asked.

“No, that’s the media. They’re our other problem,” Herne said. “Seems the human newsfolk arrived here after reports of dragons and goblins, and they saw the entire mountain vanish.”

Fala nodded. “Then they saw it return.”

The Compendium opened its pages.

Dad’s eyes opened wide. “Did you do that, Keelie, or is it moving on its own?”

“It seems to have a mind of its own, for sure. I can’t wait to tell Elianard.”

“News reporters are all over the place, asking questions,” Herne continued. “Even worse, Homeland Security. Once, when I took a human flight over the Adirondacks, my magic responded to the land and my antlers appeared. The air marshal on board was quite upset.”

Keelie bolted upright. “So the mountain is back where it belongs?” What if it had landed in downtown Fort Collins?

Herne nodded. “Once you jammed your staff into the ground, you collapsed, and the faire and everyone within it was transported back to Earth. It seems the Compendium augmented your tree shepherd magic, allowing you to return us to this dimension.” He paused, looking troubled. “Before that, of course, you opened the portal between worlds and allowed our armies to travel to the faire. Then you used the Compendium to tap into my magic from Under-the-Hill and link it to me.” Herne frowned. “Keelie, there may be an after-effect from such magic use-”

His words were interrupted by a woman with a microphone who rushed up to Keelie, followed by a cameraman.

“Honey, can we have a word?”

Keelie recognized the woman-Teresa Smith, the news reporter from a national cable news channel. Teresa tossed back her perfect hair and looked into the camera.

“We’re here live at the High Mountain Renaissance Faire, where we’re about to talk to an injured girl waiting to be transported to the hospital for emergency surgery.” She shoved the microphone in Keelie’s face. “Can you tell me what happened? The world wants to know what you saw. Did you see dragons?”

Here was Keelie’s chance to tell humans everything. Should she expose the magic? Before the battle, she’d wanted to tell humans about the magical world so that they could protect themselves from the goblins, but now, what purpose would it serve? If this hysteria was any example of what could happen, learning about magic would tear apart society. People would be afraid, and some would covet the power. She glanced at Herne, and then at her father.

Herne’s antlers had retreated into his skull, and Dad had pulled his hair back over his ears. Fala’s fairy glow was muted as he attempted to blend in with everyone else.

She saw Vangar and Finch in the distance, back in human form, rushing around trying to help injured people.

What would the world do with the knowledge that there were live dragons at the faire? She loved and cared for these people. If they wanted the secret revealed, then it would be up to the many magical races to make that decision. It wasn’t her secret to give away.

Keelie smiled. Guess they would have to call a Council meeting.

She looked into the camera. “I thought it was an earthquake,” she told Teresa.

The reporter looked frustrated. “Come on kid, you don’t have a brain injury. You remember what you saw.”

“There’s dragons and fairies all over the faire, but you don’t believe they’re real, do you?” Keelie frowned at the woman as if she thought she was nuts.