Part 3 (1/2)
Miszrial's eyes widened.
”Don't you guys watch movies?” Keelie asked. ”It's the mongrel who always wins in the end.”
”We destroy mongrels,” Miszrial said seriously. ”Among our animals.”
Cold crept up Keelie's spine. She knew she wasn't being threatened, but the fact that Miszrial had said it so coolly meant that these elves were even less compa.s.sionate than the ones back home. She couldn't wait to get back to the Dread Forest. This place was seriously creepy.
A deer leaped onto the road, startling the horses, which jolted the wagon. As everyone grabbed the sides to keep from falling over, the driver struggled to regain control of the horses.
The deer didn't run away. He kept pace with the wagon, close enough that Keelie saw her reflection in his liquid brown eyes. His antler-heavy head bobbed with each leap.
Who are you?
The voice went through her head and into her bones, deep and rich like thick chocolate, and strangely familiar. She couldn't move; her hand was frozen on the splintery side of the wooden wagon (pine, from the other side of this mountain). Who are you? she answered.
Herne. Herne. Herne. Herne. The voice echoed in her head. The deer sprinted to the edge of the road, then leaped into the forest and disappeared.
Herne. She knew that name. In mythology cla.s.s she'd learned that Herne the Hunter was the Celtic G.o.d of the forest, the Master of the Wild Hunt.
The Green Man.
As if she'd been held in thrall by the deer's gaze, Keelie slumped against the wagon's side, her mind whirling with her discovery.
Herne, in this forest. When had he left Great Britain, and what was he doing way up here? He didn't seem scary this time, but she had felt his power. Why was he warning her earlier? What did he want?
”Do not be frightened, Lady Keliel. The forest creatures often come close. They are naturally curious of us. The stag would not harm us.” Miszrial's tone was condescending, as if the poor frightened human had never seen a deer before. She didn't seem to know that this was not an ordinary deer.
Elia shot Keelie a murderous look, which Keelie could read well: don't embarra.s.s me. The happy Elia who'd left the Dread Forest had been replaced by the paranoid, superior, snot-girl Elia. That was okay. Keelie knew how to deal with them both.
Herne. At least she knew she hadn't been crazy at the mask shop. That Green Man mask was Herne, and he'd spoken to her telepathically then, too. If one vision was real, then another could be real as well. Maybe that really had been Peascod on the side of the road. Things were getting interesting, and not in a good way.
Elia was patting her hair and straightening her clothes. They must be getting close to the village of Grey Mantle. Two ancient trees flanked the road, and as they pa.s.sed, Keelie felt their welcome like a caress on her soul. That was more like it.
A stone-and-timber building appeared on their right, built in the familiar style of the elven homes of the Dread Forest, and then there were more buildings on both sides of the road.
The wagon stopped in a cobblestone-paved square surrounded by gray stone buildings. Two silver-haired elves in long robes stood together. Keelie recognized the symbols embroidered on their robes; these were members of the Elven Council. Keelie was disappointed. She'd hoped Norzan would greet them, too.
Elia's eyes were bright as she stood up. She held her head high, like a princess, and walked to the edge of the wagon. She looked down at the cobblestones, which seemed to Keelie like a far drop.
What the heck. She jumped down and held a hand up to Elia. She was her niece now, after all. Elia's lips tightened, then she reached down and took Keelie's hand in her own, her grip cold and tight. She's afraid, Keelie thought. All the snootiness was a bluff.
”Let me help.” Sean leaped to the ground and put his hands on Elia's waist, lifting her effortlessly and setting her lightly on the cobblestones. Keelie was relieved, and not jealous. The thought of Elia splatting on the ground had bothered her.
Miszrial hopped out of the wagon and walked proudly toward the two elders. She bowed low, sweeping her arms in a graceful arc. ”Milords, these are the amba.s.sadors from the Dread Forest. Lady Elia, daughter of Lore Master Elianard, Lady Keliel Heartwood, daughter of Zekeliel, Lord of the Dread Forest, and Lord Sean o' the Wood, son of Niriel.”
Keelie kept her eyes on the two men, but wondered what Sean's reaction had been to the mention of his father. Since Niriel's fall from grace, he didn't even have an honorary t.i.tle.
The two Council members bowed their heads solemnly, and the three amba.s.sadors bowed back. Keelie noticed that Elia's bright, expectant eyes darted back and forth, as if looking for the hidden parade that would greet her.
The taller of the two stepped forward, a beaky-nosed elf with a deeply lined face. ”I am Terciel, head of the elven Council here. I welcome you to the Northwoods and to Grey Mantle. We are grateful to the Dread Forest for sending you to help us to resolve our troublesome conflict.”
Keelie didn't think he suspected just how serious it might be. Or then again, maybe he knew exactly who or what lived in these woods with him. How could anyone ignore Herne, the Hunter?
”Lord Terciel, greetings from the Dread Forest.” Sean was acting as if Keelie were actually supposed to be standing there lost in thought. She owed him one.
”Sean o' the Wood, son of Niriel, we are pleased that you have joined us. You are the first of your blood to walk here since the old times.”
Elia stepped forward. ”I too bring greetings.”
Terciel looked at her as if she were a bug crawling on his birthday cake, but he bowed his head. ”Lady Elia.”
Miszrial bowed to them. ”Dinner will be in the Council building in an hour. You'll have time to refresh yourselves. Allow me to escort you to your rooms in the lodge.”
They followed her through the empty streets. Keelie felt eyes watching them from the windows. ”Miszrial, where do you keep the rescue helicopters? I can't see you guys running rescue missions from the human airport.”
Miszrial smiled thinly, stopping at a two-story stone building with a small wooden porch protruding from the front like a tongue. ”The helipad is on the other side of village, disguised as a barn.” She opened the door of the building and stepped aside to allow them to enter first. The inside was almost empty of furniture, but lights glowed high on the walls.
Keelie walked up to one. Not electric, and there was no fire that she could tell. ”What is this?”
”Fairy lights,” Elia answered, before Miszrial had a chance.
”I've seen these,” Keelie said, remembering. ”Back home, in Under-the-Hill. Barrow's house is lit with them.” Barrow was her dwarf friend whose parents owned the town hardware store. He was currently dating a water sprite named Plu.
”I am not surprised that you have been Under-the-Hill,” Miszrial said.
Sean tugged Keelie back when she headed toward the snarky elf. ”Easy, tiger. She's saying that to make you angry.”
”Why would she want me to be angry? I'm here to help her.” Keelie watched Miszrial walk up the stairs that filled the center of the building, followed by Elia. ”Grandmother Jo used to tell me that when people were mean like that, it was because they were jealous.”
Miszrial was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. She motioned toward a door. ”Your room, Lady Keliel.”
Elia stood in the doorway next to hers. ”Will tonight's dinner be a formal meal?”
”No, it will just be yourselves and Lord Terciel.” She bowed and walked to the next door, leaving Elia to sh.o.r.e up her crestfallen face.
”Lord Sean, your room.” Miszrial pointed across the hall.
Keelie didn't have a reason to linger in the hall, so she went into her room. It was tiny, which was good, because the warm fire that burned in the fireplace kept the evening chill close to the sole window, which looked more like an arrow slit set deep into the stone wall. A bed with tall, thick posts dominated the spartan room. The only things that brightened it were a colorful woven rug next to the bed and an arrangement, in a gla.s.s jar, of twigs bursting with bright red berries. Probably poisonous to humans.
An hour later, Miszrial collected them for dinner. Keelie wore one of her Ren Faire gowns, a long blue linen dress with full skirts and hanging sleeves that swept from her shoulders to the ground. Tight white inner sleeves covered her arms, and she wore her charms on a silver chain around her neck. Miszrial led them out of the lodge and along a leafy path which, as it scaled a small hill, became stone stairs opening onto a small plaza in front of the largest building Keelie had yet seen in Grey Mantle.
”This is the Council building,” Elia said, breathless from either pride or the climb. ”There's nothing like this in Dread Forest, is there?”
Sean glanced up at the pointed roof of the circular building. ”No, nothing like this. Why is the roof pitched so steeply?”
”To keep the snow from acc.u.mulating.” Miszrial smiled. ”Although it's not a problem lately. This year we've barely had two feet of snow. The bears have not slept, either, and they're hungry.”
Keelie tried to remember what she'd learned about hibernating bears, but drew a blank. She glanced at the dense forest around them and threw a quick message to the trees. Let me know ifyou see any bears near me, please.
No bears are here, but the Jae gather close, came the answer. The trees seemed to speak in a chorus.