The Tree Shepherd's Daughter (36 page)

Raven rolled her eyes heavenward. "Think of me in nature. We're definitely going shopping when I return to the
real world."

Keelie nodded.

Janice sighed. "Get in the car, Raven."

"I don't want a cavern on wheels," Dad said.

Keelie stopped. She had to consider that last comment.
Did Dad literally mean that? Dwarves liked the Earth. Did
the inside of Sir Davey's Winnebago look like a cavern?
She looked at the big Winnebago, dying for a peek inside.

"He's got deals on Forest Glades with all the modern
comforts," Davey said.

Dad threw his hands up in surrender and then glanced
at Keelie. "We'll talk about it on our way there."

Keelie skipped over to him and kissed him on the
cheek. "Thanks, Dad."

Janice honked her horn, and Raven leaned out the
window and waved as her mom drove away.

Keelie waved back.

Sir Davey loaded up three of Keelie's boxes, and she
saw that he was a little misty-eyed.

"I'll see you at the Faire," she said. She bent down and
kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled. "Take care of yourself and Zeke. He's
mourning the loss of your mom, too. He loved her, and
don't let anyone tell you different-like some high-minded
elves we know."

"Sir Davey, is this the camper my mom and dad lived
in when I was a baby?"

He nodded. "That's why your dad is having a hard time
letting go of it. Your mom loved the gingerbread trim."

He hopped into his Winnebago, cranked it, and drove
away.

Keelie looked at Dad's weird camper. She watched
her dad lock the back door and smiled. She'd lived in this
camper with her mom and dad as a family. She could live
in it a little longer.

"Hey Dad, so what can you do to expand this ski chalet?"

Her reward was an answering smile and a look of relief.
I could have gotten that Winnebago, she thought, watching
him. I was this close.

Dad came to Keelie. "I have something for you. You
remembered when you asked me to save it?" He pulled an
aspen branch from the back of the ski chalet. "I found it
when Scott was packing up. It was leftover after we made
the chair."

She said, "Thanks." The slender stick was dry and
worthless, but Keelie had something in mind. It was perfect for the experiment she was thinking of. "Dad, I need a few
minutes.

He nodded. "I'll be here."

She hurried to the meadow. The crater left by the
lightning blast had been backfilled by Admin, leaving a
big raw patch in the grass. Keelie walked to the middle
of the blackish brown area, so alien in the middle of all
that green. She felt the trees watching her, and the others,
the forest folk. She stuck the twig into the ground, deep
enough that it was only thigh-high.

"Hrok, I've brought you a companion. I hope." She
grasped the dead twig and with the other hand held the
charred heart, which hung around her neck. Sean had
given her a new chain when he'd said goodbye. He'd kissed
her and told her to hold his kiss in her heart till they met
again. She thought of the Queen Aspen's sacrifice. Had
she brought the tornado and the lightning down upon
herself?

The tree's heart warmed in her hand. She pushed the
energy down her arm. It grew easier each time she did it.
The hand that held the twig tingled as the life-giving force
sizzled down through the twig and into the ground. The
dirt around it moved, and hundreds of rounded threads
poked up, unfurling into grass.

Keelie was disappointed. She'd wanted the wand to
take root and be a companion for Hrok, a piece of the
Queen Aspen come back to life. At least she'd greened up
the place a little. The dirt patch had been like a scabbed
knee, ugly and painful to look at.

She walked away, stopping to run her hand over Hrok's
bark. Goodbye, my friend. See you next year.

Fare you well, Keliel Tree Talker. May you grow many
rings.

She felt him in her mind, the energy in his sap, his
branches upheld to the sun, and the tickling of his leaves
in the breeze. And around him, the others of the forest.
And one more, a new one, though not a baby. She turned,
mouth open. A single leaf had unfurled from the tip of the
twig.

The Queen Aspen's branch lived.

As they left Colorado, Keelie saw Uncle Harry Mac's Tattoo and Body Piercing Shop, its bright neon lights muted
in the sunlight.

Half-Elven she may be, but the California girl that
was her mom's daughter hadn't forgotten the belly button
ring.

There had to be a tattoo and body piercing parlor somewhere near the Faire site in New York, and she would make
it her quest to find it.

A forest dweller, Gillian was raised by gypsies at a Renaissance Faire. She likes knitting, hot soup, costumes,
and adores oatmeal-especially in the form of cookies. She loathes concrete, but tolerates it if it means attending a science fiction convention. She's an obsessive collector of beads, recipes, knitting needles, and
tarot cards, and admits to reading InStyle Magazine. You
can find her in her north Georgia cabin, where she lives
with her large, friendly dogs and obnoxious cats, and at
www.gilliansummers.com

Look for Book II of the Faire Folke Trilogy
in Summer 2008.