Shadows of the Redwood

Assess the situation. That was what her phys ed teacher had taught them when they did “summer survival” at Baywood Academy. Then, it had been about what to do if your surf board got pulled out too far or if someone tried to mug you. Now, Keelie considered this to be “summer survival” gone way bad.

She didn’t know how to stop a redwood forest gone amuck. In the Wildewood, the trees had been angry and looking for vengeance, but these trees were polluted with dark magic, infested with the taint of a goblin’s blood. They would kill.

Keelie felt alone and powerless. Her dark power was dancing on the edge of her control, ready to erupt again. Control. Balance. Focus. That must be her mantra.

She remembered the calm charm that she’d used on Knot and Laurie. It had worked on them, but would it work on herself? She envisioned bright sunlight, to counteract the darkness of the forest, and felt the magic slowly grow within her. She said the words of the charm silently to herself. For a moment nothing changed … she could hear Bella Matera laughing at Tavyn-Bloodroot, and felt his anger lash out like a knife.

Then the magic bubbled up, filling her, settling into every corner of her being.

Keelie saw that with Bella distracted, the treeling spirits were scooting over to Risa, drawn to her energy. She leaned close to the elf girl. “You’ve got that Mother Goddess thing going on. See if you can use your charm to bring the treelings under your spell.”

Risa looked at the silvery, mistlike tree children. “They frighten me. My vegetables do not have spirits that dance around. I have no wish to befriend them.”

“Try anyway.” Keelie wondered if booting Risa’s curvy backside would help. It would certainly make Keelie feel better.

“You are very harsh.” Tears slid down Risa’s face. “And to think that once I thought you and I could be friends.”

“Yeah? When was that?” Keelie pressed her lips together. Great. “Antagonize your fellow hostages” was probably not in any rescue guide.

The tree-spirit children were watching them as if they were interesting creatures. They’d probably never even seen elves, except for Tavyn.

“Risa, sing them a song or something. Do you sing to your radishes and pumpkins? Whatever you do to them, do it now for these tree spirits.”

The elf girl tossed her head, but the mist had done a number on her hair and the sodden red curls drooped on her shoulders. She sighed, then began to sing. Her voice rose, and Keelie felt power in it, a green, vibrant glow that seemed surprisingly familiar. It was a lot like her own magic.

She watched as one by one the treelings drew closer, relaxed and fascinated by Risa’s song.

Keelie wondered what she was going to do to the treelings once she had them. If they had dark magic flowing through their roots and rings, she didn’t know if there was a way to counteract it. And she didn’t want to hurt them. They were just babies.

It came to her. Fairy magic. She had been using it all along to balance the earth and tree magic, so she should be able to do it with the treelings. But she had no idea how she could do it without Bella or Bloodroot finding out.

Tavyn-Bloodroot strode over. “What are you doing? What magic is this?”

Bella Matera drifted after him. “Growing magic. More useful even than I’d thought.”

Risa glared at Keelie. “Thanks a lot. Now I’ll be nursemaid to the evil trees.”

“My children are not evil,” Bella snapped. She stared hard at Risa, and the girl’s eyes went blank.

Keelie felt deflated. This was a big step backward—and she may have gotten Risa killed. But they were probably all doomed. Tavyn would never allow Scott and Laurie to go free to tell anyone about what had happened here. Panic overwhelmed her. Bella and Bloodroot were too powerful.

She searched her mind frantically for any scrap of knowledge that would help, regretting not studying the Compendium more. The only spell she remembered, other than the calm charm, was a hay-fever charm. Not too useful here. At least, if she died, Elianard would never learn what a slacker she was.

Keelie eyed the little treelings. Maybe she could use the hay-fever charm after all. It was a desperate idea, but she was definitely desperate.

She reached down and yanked out a hunk of moss.

Tavyn-Bloodroot noticed her movement. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m adjusting the bandage on my ankle. It itches.” She tightened her fist.

“Don’t be clever, Keliel, or your friends will pay.”

Above them, the cages spun like tops, and Scott and Laurie yelled.

“Stop it. They’re not hurting anyone.” Keelie couldn’t bear to hear her friends’ terrified cries.

Bella Matera floated closer. “There is no such thing as a karma fairy. I’ve searched the root archives.” She glanced at Keelie. “Do not be so quick to trick.”

Tavyn-Bloodroot glared at Keelie. She gave him twinkle fingers and a little grin. Gotcha.

Meanwhile, the treeling spirits had drifted away from Risa and begun a dance, swirling in a mist-filled circle. They reminded Keelie of ghostly children playing “Ring Around the Rosie.” She squeezed the moss in her hand, hoping it would do as a substitute for meadow grass. She summoned the memory of Mr. Heidelman mowing his grass at midnight. Now she just had to keep that image close by as she worked the next bit. Instead of curing hay fever, she had to reverse the spell to inflict it. Talk about bad karma.

Keelie leaned close to Risa, who now had a thread of drool hanging from her lip. Too bad she couldn’t keep her like this. She shrugged and reached into the Earth, feeling for the Under-the-Hill that had to be here, as it did under every forest.

She prodded deep until she felt a stirring of the golden magic that signaled fae dwellings. It was frustrating, and it took too long, like using a metal detector on the beach. She kept an eye on Tavyn and Bella Matera as she searched, hoping they would not be able to feel the fae magic. At last, she sensed it—small, cold, dusty places, long-abandoned, but still sparking with fae energy. She pulled a strand of it, yanking hard until it came loose and she could wrap it around Risa.

The minute the strand touched Risa, it dissolved into golden sparkles that disappeared into her flesh. Risa blinked twice as her eyes refocused. She ran the back of her hand over her mouth. “Ugh. What happened?”

“You got whammied. Feeling okay?”

Risa nodded. “You brought me back?”

Keelie shrugged. “I have an idea that might get us out of here, but I need your help,” she whispered.

“What do you want me to do?”

“See if you can attract the treelings to you again.”

“You brought me back. You could have just left me like that forever.” Risa was smiling at her. “You know, if you hadn’t stolen Sean and possessed the heart of my beloved Knot, I think we could’ve been good friends.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Keelie said. She smiled inwardly.

Risa concentrated again on the treelings. Soon the scent of cinnamon—elf magic—floated in the air, and the treelings stopped dancing and hovered in the dark meadow, watching Risa. She seemed to shimmer with pulsing energy as she smiled and lifted her hands. “Hello, little ones.” Her voice was like chimes.

The misty little forms floated back toward Risa. They were small, like wispy clouds on a spring day. One of them giggled innocently, but still, Keelie detected an undercurrent of darkness. They began swirling around Risa.

Keelie closed her eyes, tapping into the green tree magic around her. She focused on Bella Matera’s children. They were so small, but already she sensed that the darkness had intertwined itself into them on the cellular level. This dark magic was different than she’d experienced in the Dread Forest—it reminded her of what she’d felt in the mall parking lot in L.A. when she’d driven past the SUV. She wondered if it had been full of goblins.

Keelie lifted her eyes. Bella and Tavyn-Bloodroot had been conferring on the other side of the clearing, but now came toward them, drawn by the dancing children. Her heart raced. “Hurry, Risa.”

The little trees swirled faster around Risa. Green energy flowed from the elf girl, and her eyes were glazed as if she was in a trance.

The time had come to use the hay-fever charm.

Keelie forced herself to recall the sound of Mr. Heidelman’s lawn mower at midnight and the scent of freshly mown grass wafting through her window. She tightened her hand around the bits of moss.

She had to reach the goblin magic directly. With her tree sense, Keelie looked into the treelings’ slender trunks. Their cellulose was green, but slotted with oozy, oily tissue. Their mitochondria were polluted with dark magic. Keelie had to eradicate it, like chemo to a cancer cell, but first she had to use the charm.

She reached down to the line of fae energy she’d tapped earlier, and combined it with the tree magic she’d pulled from the trees around her. She combined the two, twisting the magics tightly until bright golden sparkles formed within her. The power exploded, surging through her.

Keelie opened her eyes to see her hands and arms glowing with golden iridescence. The moss she’d torn floated in midair before her.

“Children,” Keelie’s voice was loamy and commanding. Grandmother would be pleased.

The treelings stopped spinning. Risa collapsed as she released them to Keelie’s care.

Keelie blew, and the floating moss raced toward the treelings like poisonous darts, each greeny bit hitting a treeling spirit. The treeling cloud-forms screamed in pain and raced back to their tree bodies, the saplings in the protected glade.

Bella shrieked. “My babies!”

“No!” Tavyn-Bloodroot shouted. “Stop!” He ran toward Keelie, but a big orange object landed heavily on him, hissing, and started biting and scratching.

Knot.

Tavyn-Bloodroot tore the cat from his face and threw him to the side. Knot hit hard against the trunk of a tree and slid bonelessly to the ground.

The sound of voices came from the forest, and Tavyn-Bloodroot drew a sword and raced toward it.

Risa lifted her head and stretched her arms out to Knot. “Beloved.” She dragged herself over to the motionless, furry lump.

Keelie wanted to run to him, too, but she couldn’t stop now. She had to pull the dark goblin essence out of the little treelings before the elder spirits could stop her.

Golden light surrounded each small tree. Keelie held out her hand and let the magic flow freely. Like water from an overturned bucket, the golden cloud shimmered out in a wide, uncontrolled arc.

Bella began manically spinning around Keelie. She sang a beautiful melody about the stars; Keelie suddenly felt sleepy, but Bella Matera’s song was too frantic and she was able to shake it off.

Then, an ear-splitting howl shattered the hypnotic feeling. Coyote was beside Keelie. He howled again, a long, wavering note.

Bella shrieked in anger. “Your grandmother is dead, tree shepherd. Dead!” She reached upward and Keelie saw that the bubble with Grandmother and Viran was moving back and forth among the sharp upper branches of the trees. Grandmother seemed alert now, and her face was contorted with fear. Viran was on all fours, screaming down at them, although no sound escaped the bubble. She could see his mouth form a word over and over.

Bella would make the bubble burst and they would fall to their deaths, and it would be Keelie’s fault. But would Grandmother want her to risk the forest to save her? Keelie looked at the treeling spirits, each still encased in fae magic. The magic was doing its work, and Bella Matera now swooped among them, anguish on her face.

From within her mind, she heard a voice, not the Redwood Tree Shepherd’s voice, but another, familiar one.

Keelie, I’m coming. Stay strong.

It was Sean. He was speaking to her telepathically.

Focus, Keelie. Stay focused. I’ll take care of Tavyn.

The sound of clashing swords came from the west. Keelie cleared her mind and tried to focus once more on the trees, but now she could hear Grandmother’s shrieks and cries for help.

Wait a minute. Grandmother wouldn’t scream in fear.

Her eyes met Coyote’s, and he grinned at her, tongue lolling, before leaping into the air. As he arced through space he dissolved, and Keelie saw a great crow flap its way up in a spiraling climb.

Bella saw him too and screamed “No,” calling on the trees of the Grove. Branches lashed at Coyote, trying to knock the crow from the air, but he dodged them, intent on the bubble and its frantic captives. He flew above it, and then dove down and through the bubble.

Time stopped for a second as Keelie saw the sphere vanish. The crow flapped between two trees and circled back. No falling bodies, no screaming victims. It had been an illusion.

Her head felt clear now, and she turned her attention to the little trees that now reached branches out toward their mother. Black wisps floated from their trunks as Keelie pushed more fairy magic into them. She had to pull as much of the taint out of them as possible, but she could only do so much with her magic.

She closed her eyes. She envisioned their rings, then down to the cellular level. Most of the treelings were clean now, but there were some who remained tainted with darkness. The treelings with the goblin blood would have to be watched carefully over their lifetime, or at least until a cure could be found.

When Keelie opened her eyes, Bella, still in spirit form, was floating above her treelings, weeping.

Coyote, back in coyote form, touched his nose to her hand. “Now would be a good time to save your grandmother and Viran.”

“Where are they?” Keelie asked. “Take me to them.”

“Follow me.” Coyote guided Keelie to a giant redwood with blood-red roots and a blood-red trunk. The ground beneath it glowed faintly blue, with the remains of the elemental that Bloodroot had sent to find the missing tree shepherd.

Bloodroot’s tree. She should’ve known. Keelie pressed her hand against the bark. It hummed with dark energy, and more.

Keliel. You have come, my child. It was Viran, the tree shepherd. He was inside the tree. How was that possible?

Across the path, another tree hummed with similar energy. Keelie placed her hands on its trunk. Grandmother?

Keelie, keep your hands against the bark. Then we can join forces to break through the binding sap.

Keelie didn’t know if she had the energy or magical resources left to break Grandmother and Viran free, but she pressed her hands into the trunk. She felt a doorway open to Grandmother, whose strong will and magic were so powerful.

A loud crack ripped through the air. Keelie covered her ears as sound waves pulsed around her. Coyote howled.

A green shimmer surrounded the tree, and Grandmother stepped out of the crack, pulp clinging to her hair and clothes.

She brushed herself off as she rushed to Bloodroot’s trunk. “We need to help Viran.”

Bella Matera screamed, and the ground and trees trembled with the aftershock of her rage. She was seconds away.

With their hands on the trunk of the mighty redwood, Grandmother and Keelie joined magical energy. It felt strange to allow Grandmother to pull on her power. Keelie felt her remaining magic tug through her hands and into the redwood’s tainted roots. The magic rose through the bark. Sensing a line of Earth energy, she added it to the power Grandmother wielded. All around the tree, dirt spewed into the air like geysers.

“Stop.” Bella flew at them, but they ignored her. Without the tree shepherds’ magic to draw upon, her power had faded.

Another loud crack tore Keelie’s ears, and she covered them. At least this time she’d known what to expect.

Grandmother stepped back.

Green and yellow energy glowed around Bloodroot’s trunk. Emerald lights sparkled and a wizened man, with silver hair, staggered out clutching a staff and covered in redwood pulp. Keelie recognized him as the wizard from her dreams, and as the man in the bubble with Grandmother. Viran, the Redwood Tree Shepherd.

“Thank you, my dears.” He bowed his head to them.

Bella floated over to Keelie, who stared at her warily, wondering what she would do next. She didn’t know if she had it in her to fight anymore.

Grandmother struggled to her feet, and Keelie let Viran lean on her shoulder. Bella zoomed around in front of them, blocking their way.

“You can’t take him. His magic belongs to me.”

“Stay away from my grandchild.” Grandmother stepped forward, confronting her.

“Grandmother, be careful. She’s still plenty strong.”

Grandmother held out her hands and green magic floated upwards from her palms. “I send you back to your tree and there bind you, Bella. Walk no more.”

Bella’s face lengthened with dismay and she started to fade, but she pulled on her power and returned. “None but the Redwood Tree Shepherd can do that, and I’ve taken his power. You are no longer lady of any forest. Your words have no power, here.”

“You have a new tree shepherd now, Bella.” Viran’s voice was strong, but he leaned more on Keelie as if the effort of speaking had drained him of his last bit of energy. “Can you not feel it?”

“That is not possible.” Bella frowned as she glared at Viran. “You are our shepherd. You have always been our shepherd.”

“My body is worn out. My time is ended,” Viran said. He turned to Grandmother. “Lady Keliatiel, I grant you my place, my power. By the Great Sylvus, so be it.”

Grandmother stood taller and bowed her head to him. Around them, trees murmured their greetings to their new shepherdess.

Keelie could feel more of Viran’s life force ebbing away. She knew no healing spells to help a dying tree shepherd. She remembered a passage about the Great Sylvus, and the covenant formed between shepherds and forests. She knew what she had to do. She said the words:

“Hear the Lore of Old, formed in the days of stars and moon, When forests slept in the Mother’s womb, And the Great Sylvus called upon his shepherds, To guard the flock of wood and green.”



Grandmother smiled. “Elianard will be pleased.”

Keelie grinned back. Warmth and loved filled her as Grandmother reached out to grasp Keelie’s hand, and together they joined their green magic and pushed Bella’s protesting spirit back into her trunk.

“My babies, who will watch my babies?” Bella’s face appeared on her trunk.

Sympathy for the tree filled Keelie. Bella had witnessed the death of so many of her children in the forest.

“I will,” Grandmother said.

“I will help.” Keelie added.

Viran lifted his staff. “Sleep, Bella.”

The tree closed her eyes and her face faded back into the coarse bark of the redwood.

Viran leaned against Keelie. “My time is short.”

Just then, Coyote rushed toward Keelie. Behind him, Tavyn-Bloodroot screamed in outrage and rushed toward Grandmother, Keelie, and Viran, his sword raised. Sean leaped into the clearing after him and attacked. Tavyn-Bloodroot whirled, clashing his sword against Sean’s. Grandmother hurried Keelie and Viran to the other side of Bloodroot’s massive trunk. Keelie pushed Grandmother’s hands away, anxious to see. Sean fought hard, but his sword seemed to have no effect on the tree-possessed elf.

Tavyn-Bloodroot knocked Sean’s sword aside and pinned him to another tree with one arm. He laughed like a cartoon villain about to deliver an evil monologue. “Do you think you can hurt me, elf?”

A blast erupted like lightning from inside Tavyn-Bloodroot. The impact sent Sean stumbling back.

The skin over Tavyn’s face split in two, and dark green light tinged in purple and red spilled out. Sean reached out and tore at Tavyn’s face, pulling the skin from the features that pushed out from below the flesh.

The creature underneath was humanoid, with long pointed ears that arced behind his head and long, greasy dreadlocks. His eyes were bright green, the pupils vertical slits that glowed with malevolence. Even his skin was vile—mottled green and gray, with splatters of red.

Although she’d never seen one, Keelie knew she stood before a goblin.

“I thought you guys were gone,” she whispered. She’d had dreams about creatures like this, but she thought they were the boogeyman.

Tavyn whirled upon Sean, whose sword was at the ready once more. “Elf cannot kill elf, Sean-Niriel’s-son. The price is high for those who do.”

“You are no elf.”

That was the truth. Keelie stared at the goblin. He was like a Red Cap on steroids.

Tavyn laughed. “I am half elf. Let me make a long family saga short: I’m the half-elf, half-goblin son of Kalix’s sister. Kalix raised me as his own, but he is the one who slew my goblin father, he whose blood nourishes the roots of the Ancients. Kalix knew I was part goblin, but I hid my true nature from him.”

Viran frowned. “I told Kalix nothing good ever came of helping a goblin.”

Tavyn hissed. “You’re dying, old man, and because of your advice, my father is dead. But his intent lives on in the trees. You couldn’t stop that, tree shepherd.”

Sean was nodding grimly. “I will let you live, goblin, but never come near Keelie again.”

“I promise. I’ll be a good goblin and leave your girlfriend, alone.” He laughed. “Good goblin.”

Tavyn turned to Grandmother, who was staring in disbelief at the creature in front of her. “You thought Bloodroot possessed Tavyn. It was the other way around. I took over Bloodroot.”

Then Tavyn’s bitter gaze focused on Keelie. “We have a lot in common, you and I, Keliel.”

“I have nothing in common with you.” She was disgusted by Tavyn. He’d been such a handsome young elf, but his true nature was repellent.

“You and I both lost a parent, and we are both half-breeds. We have the blood of the dark fae singing within us, and we both can control Earth magic.” Tavyn grinned at Keelie. “You and I are going to make a wonderful pair.” He made a gesture and suddenly he was Tavyn the elf again, although his long hair was still in dreads.

Sean moved forward. Tavyn spun around and pointed a finger. “Better keep an eye on your lovely Keelie. The goblins know her name.”

Tavyn laughed again and began to spin. Dirt flew everywhere, spraying them with rocks and debris. In seconds, Tavyn was gone. A hole in the earth was all that remained. From deep inside came the jangle of Peascod’s jester hat, and dark laughter. Was the creepy jester a goblin, too? That would explain a lot.

Chills consumed Keelie. She knew this wouldn’t be the last time she saw Tavyn, and she wondered what his relationship was with Peascod. She didn’t want to see either of them ever again.

A tree spirit drifted over, and Keelie realized that it was Bloodroot. Without the goblins’ influence he seemed stern, but somehow kindly. His tree-face eyes were gray, no longer the brilliant green of the goblin’s poisoned sap. He hovered near Viran. Viran closed his eyes. Keelie knew the two were talking in tree speak, but she couldn’t hear their words.

The Redwood Tree Shepherd nodded. “It is time, Keliatiel.”

“What’s going on?” Keelie asked.

Grandmother closed her eyes. Green magic flowed through her body, and when she reopened her eyes, they were a supernaturally bright green.

“Are you both in agreement?” she asked.

“Yes, my lady.” Viran straightened.

The tree spirit Bloodroot bowed. Yes, shepherdess.

“We must wait until Lord Zekeliel comes, and then we shall perform the ceremony.”

“Dad’s coming?” Keelie asked.

“It’s going to be okay, Keelie.” Grandmother said reassuringly. She stepped closer to Viran, and he leaned on her. “I’ve summoned your father. The trees are no longer blocking us.”

The Redwood Tree Shepherd placed his gnarled hand on Keelie’s shoulder. “It is my time to fade, child. Bloodroot has requested an Involucrum: a binding of shepherd and tree. My spirit will live on with the tree. We will become as one, and I will be able to guide the new treelings. So, in a way, I will still be here. You and your father will help me make the transition.”

“But you can’t fade. I just found you.” Tears brimmed in Keelie’s eyes, making everything blurry.

“You have saved me, child.”

“Keelie,” a soft voice said from below. It was Coyote. He pointed his sharp nose toward the clearing behind them.

Risa was carrying Knot in her arms. His head was pressed against her chest, his legs dangled, and his tail hung limp. She clutched him tightly to her chest. “Keelie, what are we going to do?”

“Knot?” The tears that had blurred Keelie’s eyes now flowed down her cheeks. She couldn’t lose him. He was gross and obnoxious and she loved him so much. She couldn’t live without him. Her throat burned and her heart ached with such deep pain that she feared taking her next breath. How could she live without Knot?

Keelie reached out to Risa. “May I hold him?”

Wetness shimmered in Risa’s eyes. She sobbed and held Knot’s body closer.

“He was my guardian.” Keelie just wanted to say goodbye.

Risa nodded and gently kissed Knot on the top of his furry head. “Good night, my sweet prince.” She laid the cat in Keelie’s arms.

Keelie pressed his solid weight close to her chest. This was where he belonged, next to her heart. “How am I going to live without you?” She bent down closer to him and whispered in his ear, so only she and he knew the words she said. “I love you.”

Risa sobbed.

Keelie’s hot tears fell on Knot’s thick orange fur. She reached up to smooth them away—and felt the purring. She saw his paws squeeze into little biscuits, and his tail twitch upward.

“I should drop you on your pumpkin-colored head,” Keelie hissed in his ear. “You faker.” She looked up at Risa, who was staring at her, startled. “He’s going to be fine.” She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry at Knot’s play-acting.

“How can you be so cold-hearted? You saw how he was thrown up against that tree.” Risa’s eyes were wide.

Knot reached up and swatted Keelie on the cheek, then twisted in her grasp and sprang away.

“You rotten cat,” she called after him.

He ran over to Risa and launched himself onto her leg, sinking his claws deep into her skin. “Ow!” The elf girl shook her leg. Knot released his claws and bolted away, as if he had fleas dancing in his fur.

Keelie placed her elbow on Risa’s shoulder. “I think he’s warming up to you. He’s showing you some affection.”

“That’s affection?” Risa rubbed her injured leg. “He’s never hurt me before.”

“Hard to explain about fae cats.”

Sean was lowering Scott and Laurie’s cages. They argued all the way down.

“You led me to believe that you cared,” Laurie shouted.

“I did not. I wanted to get to know Risa. She’s hot.”

“And what am I?”

“You’re not my type. You’re into shopping and yourself.”

“I am not.”

“That’s all you talked about on the beach—yourself.”

“Ahh!” Laurie’s outraged yell echoed from the trees.

“True love?” Sean cocked an eyebrow at Keelie.

She stared dubiously at the bickering couple. “Not on a dare.”

Sean was about to say more, but Grandmother called for Keelie’s help. He smiled. “Later,” he said softly.

It was all the promise she needed.



Keelie dressed in her green robes and raised the hood over her head. She dreaded the Involucrum. Dad had arrived last night, and today, at dawn, Viran would bind his spirit with Bloodroot. Viran had chosen a destiny that would allow him to continue in the forest.

Dad and Grandmother were waiting for her by Wena’s roots. The tree shepherds would perform the ceremony alone, without any of the other elves.

She traveled the sap to the bottom.

Grandmother and Dad wore green robes also, except theirs were embroidered with gold-and-silver trees. Viran wore a plain white robe and leaned on his staff. He looked like a medieval monk ready to go to prayers.

He held out his elbow. “I would be honored if you would accompany me to the Grove of the Ancients.”

Keelie blinked several times in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. “I would be honored.”

She accepted his outstretched elbow. It was still dawn and foggy, with the briny scent of the ocean in the air. The trees, in spirit form, drifted along with them.

Silence accompanied their reverent walk to the Grove of the Ancients. There, trees as tall as the sky reached for the heavens, visible now in the dim early morning light. Keelie sensed their great power and wisdom. She was awed as she gazed upwards.

Viran leaned closer to her. “The trees say they can hear the stars sing to the Earth.” The elder elf looked up. “I look forward to hearing the stars sing to the Earth.” He smiled at her and patted her hand.

“I’m sure it will be beautiful.” Keelie blinked back tears. She saw the distinctive red bark of Bloodroot, now streaked with gold.

Viran winked and grinned mischievously. She felt sad that she hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know him. She would’ve learned a lot from him. Maybe she still could.

A tall tree spirit walked forward. “I am Hurus.” A long gossamer beard hung from his chin. “We’re honored, tree shepherds, that you will help our shepherd and brother find peace in the binding of souls.”

Dad and Grandmother bowed their heads. “It is our honor, Hurus.”

“May the Great Sylvus be with you.” Bloodroot drifted forward and bowed his head.

The sleeves of Dad’s robe billowed in the cool breeze as he held out his hand. Keelie left Viran to stand by her father and grandmother, and Viran and Bloodroot walked to the center of the Grove. Hurus moved to the southern point of the circle, and Dad took the north. Grandmother stood to the east of the two in the center, and Keelie walked slowly to the last place, on the west.

As they stood in the four cardinal directions, faint gold light was beginning to illuminate the east. Clouds seemed to be dipped in pink, as if some supernatural being had finger painted in the sky. The pale rays seemed to create a celestial crown over Grandmother’s hooded head.

Viran faced Bloodroot’s spirit.

Dad’s voice boomed as he spoke, lifting his arms to the sky. “May our brothers, tree and shepherd, become as one. May their unified wisdom guide this forest. May the Great Sylvus bring his blessings upon them.”

The wind began to blow, and the green magic of the trees flowed across the ground, then surrounded them. The entire forest was present, great trees and small. Grandmother raised her arms, and Keelie did as well, as did the tall tree spirit and Dad. Keelie felt the sizzle of green magic spark from hand to hand until Bloodroot and Viran were in a circle of green power that pulsed with the heart of the ancient forest.

For the first time, Keelie could hear the redwoods in her head. The chiming voices of the tree spirits joined in song, a harmony of celebration for their brother the tree shepherd. Keelie wanted to be a part of this song forever. She felt herself lean into it, letting her magical essence open fully. Across from her, Grandmother made a motion, and the song abruptly vanished. She saw Grandmother exchange a look with Dad.

Now she knew what the tree shepherds meant to their forests. Keelie shivered with pride in her father, as well as with reverence and sadness as she watched Viran’s body fade away until there was nothing but a bright light.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the light of Viran’s spirit melded with Bloodroot’s, and Keelie could see both of them, one superimposed on the other. Grandmother stepped aside to let them drift to Bloodroot’s tree and enter into it. Bloodroot went first, and then Viran. As Viran’s spirit entered the tree, he turned and touched his chest, then pointed at the tree shepherds. A spark flew from his fingertip as he faded, forever marking the bark in the exact spot where a human heart would be.

The other tree spirits faded as the sun’s rays touched the treetops, chasing the sea mist in the forest below. Around them, a mantle of green and a sense of peace filled the Grove of the Ancients. Birds sang and flitted and swooped.

Keelie lowered her hood and lifted her face to the sun’s warmth.

Dad walked over to her, a big grin on his face. “Time to go, kiddo.”

“So that’s it? That’s an Involucrum? I sort of expected something bigger,” Keelie lied. It had been profoundly awesome.

“Like what?” Dad asked.

“I don’t know. Something with more fireworks.”

Dad tousled her curls. “The Great Sylvus likes to keep things simple.”

Grandmother blinked several times and held her head high as she joined them. “I agree. Keeping to the basics keeps everything closer to the heart.”

A surprised Keelie looked toward her grandmother. When had she become so philosophical?

Grandmother caught Keelie’s gaze and sniffed, suddenly remembering her true nature. “Zeke, I need to return to the village. I need my rest for the performance tonight.” She lifted the hem of her robe and strode forward.

Dad arched a questioning eyebrow toward Keelie.

She shrugged. “The show must go on.”