"You said you'd take care of the oaks. Now do it! Now let's talk about your cat. Lulu went ballistic on me today because your hairball stole a puppet or something."

"I've paid for the toy unicorn. Lulu and I spoke about it." His voice was almost inaudible.

"Glad to hear it. Make sure I don't hear any more complaints about Knot because I swear, if I do, I'll personally tie a knot in his tail that he'll never be able to straighten out. Put that cat in your camper, get a television, and tune it to Animal Planet."

"I'll find a way of restraining him," Dad replied in a tired voice.

"Yeah, you'd better, because he wreaked havoc at the Steak-on-a-Stake booth earlier, and your daughter was a part of it."

Dad made no sound. Keelie wondered what he was thinking. She'd wanted to break it to him herself. In a way, though, she was relieved. The thought of Knot locked up in the Swiss Miss Chalet was a lovely one. Heh! Not that it would humble the hairball. More likely he'd just have the opportunity to trash Keelie's belongings, as he had in Colorado when he'd peed in her suitcase and ruined all her underwear.

But Knot had to stay free, because he was Keelie's link to the unicorn. Without him, she might not find it again.

"Do something, Zeke; otherwise, I'll have to."

Retreating, stomping footfalls meant that Finch had to be leaving. But Keelie waited a few minutes to be absolutely sure.

She finally tiptoed to the back of the shop. Suddenly, something furry rubbed up against her legs. She jumped and swallowed the squeal that wanted to escape from her lips, just in case Finch was still around. Placing her hands against her thumping chest, Keelie she realized that the furry-something was the white kitty. She lifted the sad cat in her arms, but he struggled to be free. She released him, and he jumped from her arms and ran back outside. Did the cat belong to one of the Faire workers? They shouldn't let it run free.

Keelie stepped out from behind the furniture that was lined up against the wall and put on her chirpiest voice. "Hey Dad, what's going on?"

He startled. He was leaning against the counter, and in the fading light he looked a lot paler than he had earlier in the day. Poor Dad. Scott had a lot to answer for. If the t.u.r.d had honored his agreement, her father wouldn't be worked to death and getting reamed out for not keeping the shop open.

Keelie looked at her father and her heart clenched as the light shifted outside, illuminating him. He looked really sick. Finch's demands were probably making him feel worse. Just being around Finch stressed Keelie out. The woman had the aura of a volcano ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

"Where have you been? I've been looking for you all afternoon. I had a very disturbing message from Finch."

"I followed Knot into the woods. He wanted me to follow him."

Her father's expression changed to surprise.

"Don't yell about me going into the woods. The forest is sick, and the trees need our help." Keelie motioned toward the large oaks across from the shop. "It's not just the oaks. Can't you feel it?"

In reply, Dad drew in a sharp breath and leaned back against the counter, his shoulders slumped as if a huge sack of life's burdens had been placed on them. "I went searching for it, today. The unicorn. The trees blocked his energy from me."

And you're not looking so hot yourself, Keelie thought. "What are we going to do?"

"I know about the forest, Keelie, although the unicorn ... " He looked up at her with a strange look, as if he was trying to be angry but couldn't summon the energy. "Dark magic is poisoning the forest. Sir Davey and I are working on it, but Keelie ... You need to stay out of the forest. What if you'd been hurt?"

She walked closer. "Dad, I've already been in the forest. Knot led me there. He really wanted me to help the unicorn."

Her father's face went still. "What happened?" His voice was a whisper.

"There's a spell on the water, on the stream, and I got caught in it, like in a spider web. It was like the Dread, but it wasn't just a fear spell. It wouldn't let me cross. The unicorn jumped right through it, but then it wasn't beautiful anymore. It looks like a mangy old horse. His horn is all yellow and worn and cracked, and he's so skinny. I think he's dying, Dad."

Zeke rubbed a hand over his face, and Keelie saw tears in his eyes. "Is that all?"

"No." Her voice was very low. She didn't want to tell about this part. "There was a little oak, and it needed my help. And I thought I could help just this one little tree."

"No-" Her father's cry was strangled. "Keelie, you can't help just one tree in a dying forest."

Keelie continued, afraid that if she stopped, she'd never say it. "I used the Queen Aspen's heart, I drew her power, but the other trees wanted it, too, and then I kind of pa.s.sed out, and Knot brought me back."

Dad's arms went around her and he pulled her close. "Oh, Keelie."

She hugged him back, sinking into his embrace. The only family I have left, she thought. His rib bones were like ledges under her hands, and her cheek hurt against his sharp collarbone. He's fading away, she thought, fading like the unicorn. She shivered.

"You really truly saw it." Dad stared at a chair in front of him, as if its crystal-bedecked swirled branches could tell him what to say. Footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. Keelie turned quickly, peeved.

"h.e.l.lo? Anyone here?" The voice was soft.

"It's Janice," Zeke said.

"Back here," Keelie called. Dad placed his finger against his lips. "We'll talk about this later. It's better others don't know about the forest being sick."

Janice might know what was ailing Dad.

The herb lady bustled in, bracelets jangling, surrounded by the delicious scents of the plants she worked with. She smiled at them. "Hey, you two. I want to invite you to dinner at my place. Nice stout stew in the crock-pot, crusty bread, and lots of hot tea. With Raven gone, it's very lonesome in the teeny-tiny closet that serves as my apartment here."

"Thank you, Janice. You're very kind." Zeke nodded as if his head was the only part of him flexible enough to bow.

Knot hopped onto the counter and rubbed his head against Dad's elbow.

"Keelie, what happened to you?" Janice frowned. "And what are you wearing?"

"You must not have gone to the food court yet. I worked at Steak-on-a-Stake. Briefly." She glared at Knot, who blinked once, as if in answer. "Knot got me fired."

"Did he chase you through a rose bush, too?" Janice shook her head. "Come on. I have some salve that will take the sting out of those scratches. And you don't look so good, Zeke. Goodness. The two of you need looking after. Follow me." Janice bustled off, looking happy to have someone to care for.

Keelie followed her in relief. "Food sounds great." Just being around Janice comforted her. "How's Raven doing?"

Janice waved her hand. "She's having fun. I'll catch you up with what's going on when we have dinner." She put her arm through Zeke's and he leaned into her a little. Knot trotted next to them, his ill-gotten stuffed unicorn hanging from his mouth.

"Hey, about Laurie," Keelie blurted out. "She said she'll be here Friday. Can we pick her up?"

"We'll arrange something," Dad promised. Keelie's heart sank at the thought of driving up to the train station in the Swiss Miss Chalet.

Janice's booth was smaller than the one she'd had in Colorado, but it had the same wonderful herbal smell.

"The privies are close." Keelie was trying to be diplomatic.

"That's both good and bad, Keelie," Janice replied. "The traffic is always great here, because people swarm by at all hours. But when it's hot, the smell is not the sweetest."

"Good thing you have all these herbs, then."

Janet laughed and ushered Zeke in. Keelie was about to follow when she heard a sound that drew her to the back of the little half-timbered building. The forest grew close here, and she heard the sound clearly. A single note, sustained for so long that she couldn't tell what instrument made it, or what throat.

She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, and then moved closer to a straight, slender oak. She stopped well away from it, but something was scratching her head, tugging at her hair. She reached up and her fingers touched the stick hand of a bhata bhata. "Stop it, or I'll freeze you."

Faint laughter, like sticks rubbing together, came from above, and was joined by more laughter from the bushes that bordered the forest. The little people were partying tonight. Fine. She had no desire to get caught up in their wicked games.

The breeze carried the scent of cinnamon. Keelie sniffed appreciatively, until she realized that it wasn't coming from Janice's herb shop. It was coming from the forest. Anxiety gripped her. As if the thought of the woods had conjured up a spell, Keelie suddenly couldn't breathe. She grabbed at her throat, trying to peel off the invisible hands that choked her. Her heart thudded against her ribs.

She turned and ran, gasping, for Janice's door. She pounded on it, unable to turn the k.n.o.b, unable to scream for help.

The door opened, and Sir Davey stood before her awash in golden lamplight.

"Hey, ho. You'll be late for dinner!"

Keelie fell at his feet, choking. She heard Janice and Dad running toward her, and the last thing she heard before all went black was Sir Davey's grim voice.

"The Dread."

eleven.

Trapped. Enslaved. Confined. Detained. Keelie thought of all the words that applied, but it meant the same thing no matter how she said it. She was stuck helping Dad. She hadn't thought he'd actually take her up on her offer to help him, but here she was, cutting off bits of tree branches (Yellow pine from Georgia) to make blocks, and nursing sore muscles from the hand saw. This was not her vision of "helping." She imagined herself at the door to the shop, greeting customers and looking really cute in a Francesca outfit.

Her hand stilled, making full contact with the log, and she was drawn into a vision of the tree's home, a warm, fragrant, piney woods. She heard the mockingbird's song and the cry of a swooping blue jay. She wished she were there, in that muggy, overgrown forest, instead of chopping up this tree, but this was the way trees should feel-their ring memories caught in the wood, happy visions of their native forests.

A pull of energy tugged at her from within. She dropped the saw and backed away. This was different from what she'd experienced a few days ago in the forest with the Wildewood trees. She remembered the cedar that she'd helped her father cut at his workshop in Colorado, how it had shown her its past, a memory that would be a part of everything created from its wood. She picked up the saw once more. This was normal. For a tree shepherd, that is.

Her encounter with the Dread on Sat.u.r.day night had left her a little woozy. Keelie had pa.s.sed out halfway into Janice's shop. She'd come to a few hours later in the tiny upstairs bedroom, with Janice's worried face looking pale and shadowed, haunted in the candlelight.

When she'd tried to sit up, a rock fell off of her forehead, and other crystals and pebbles rolled from her chest. Sir Davey's doing, no doubt. "What happened?"

"The Dread," Janice whispered. "Someone put a spell on the forest behind the shops, and it reached out and squeezed you. I was so afraid." Tears glistened in her warm brown eyes and her hand tightened on Keelie's.

Keelie patted her with her free hand. "I feel okay now. Earth magic, right?" Although Janice knew about the elves and all the rest, Keelie would still feel better in the rock-shielded RV.

Janice nodded. "Yes, Sir Davey's. And your father's in the forest now, trying to find the source of the spell."

The memory of the hungry trees, the haunted forest, and the gaunt, patch-coated unicorn came back to her. Dad had said that the unicorn was the guardian of the forest. Whatever had done that to the unicorn could probably kill a tree shepherd, and she'd fallen victim twice in one day. She swallowed to rid herself of the catch in her throat. "I don't think it's safe for him to go out there."

Janice uttered a short laugh and pulled her hand free. "Your father is the Tree Shepherd. No one is safer in the woods!" She stood up, bending over a little to keep from smacking her head on the low roof. "How about some veggie stew?"

Keelie wasn't really hungry, but she forced herself to smile. "Sounds great."

Her father and Sir Davey returned a while later and joined them for dinner, but she noticed when she turned in early, exhausted, that they did, too. By Sunday morning he'd put her to work, then returned to the forest. Keelie knew he was searching for the unicorn. She hoped that the trees would lead him, or that the unicorn would reveal himself. The only thing she could do was work hard in the shop.

The table next to her was stacked with the little bitty rounds that would soon be labeled as Heartwood's All-Natural Blocks. Dad said that Heartwood building blocks were popular. A woman had asked about the blocks, claiming that her daughter had a set growing up, and now she wanted to order another set for her granddaughter. Dad didn't have any in stock, and he thought it would be an easy project for Keelie to work on. Yeah, right. He needed her to help with the unicorn, but he was too stubborn to admit it. Worse, he was making himself sicker every day by opening himself magically to the trees, especially the oaks.

Part of Keelie wanted to run back into the forest to be with the unicorn, now more out of compa.s.sion than a magical compulsion. But another part of her wanted to remain within the sanctuary of the Faire. It felt safer to be around people like Janice-humans.

Keelie touched a round of wood, thinking how strange it was that she'd never noticed a green tint in the wood grain of the other pieces. Another energy zing zapped through her body. She looked out at the oak trees across the lane, and closed her eyes. She sensed they were asleep.

Glancing down at the round, Keelie noticed that most of the green tint had flowed to the center. Okay, maybe this was a freaky little piece that had missed some elven de-magicking ritual Dad did with the trees. She dropped it onto the worktable, and it fell on its edge and spun around and around like a coin.

Dad needed to hire another a.s.sistant, ASAP. She was fine with going into the woods to talk to the trees, hear about their problems, be a kind of woodland mediator, but actually making stuff out of trees wasn't on her agenda.

Keelie held up her hand. Sticky blobs of pinesap clung to her skin. She peeled a gummy piece off and shook her finger to flip it away, but it held fast. This stuff was stickier than superglue. She finally got the blob off, and threw it down onto the worktable. It landed on the green wood round. Keelie heard a slurp.

Like water on a dry sponge, the sap was absorbed by the wood round. Within seconds, a small pinecone sprouted from the center of the round. She backed away, remembering that in Colorado, a branch had sprouted from a cedar fence when she'd leaned against it.

Right before her eyes, and just as Dad entered the work area, the pinecone morphed into a small pine seedling.

He stared at it. "Not again. Your tree magic is out of balance-dead wood is using it to regenerate. Come on." He hustled her out of the shop and down to Janice's for a tincture concocted from her herbs, as well as for a mysterious compound from Sir Davey that tasted like it was made from privy dirt. Beyond gross.

When she went to bed, Keelie was still scratching at sawdust that clung to her despite a thorough soaping. The following morning she showered again. Taking a shower in Sir Davey's camper was great, but she had to bend down really low to shampoo her hair or else she'd conk her forehead on the showerhead.

By the end of the day, her sore muscles protested. She'd been sawing, grinding, and sanding wood for four days. This was all Scott's fault. He should be here. Instead, he was in her old state, while she was stuck here in Nowhere, New York.

The only reason she hadn't screamed b.l.o.o.d.y rebellious murder about everything going on was because Dad looked as pale as the gourmet sheep cheese that Mom used to nibble when she drank wine with friends. Dad was wiped.

On the other hand, business was so good that he couldn't keep up with the work all by himself. This was a mixed blessing, since Keelie wasn't as useful as Scott was. Still, she had managed to sell six chairs and a dresser, and had taken orders for several custom pieces.

They weren't just making stuff for the Ren Faire, either. With Christmas just over four months away, there had been a run on orders for dollhouses like the one Dad had made for her when she'd been little. This irked her, since she'd always thought hers was special, and now she was helping him to cut out its clones.

That night Keelie dreamed about a dollhouse. But it was life-sized, in the Wildewood, and it was nighttime-sunrise would be coming soon, and glimmers of pink shimmered on the horizon ...

The unicorn galloped up to the front door and knocked with his horn. Knot answered the door, standing on his hind legs and wearing his Puss-in-Boots outfit. He stepped outside and walked with the unicorn to a mountaintop. In the background, Keelie heard something that sounded like turbine engines-the hydroelectric dam.

Bears, deer, wolves and every animal imaginable emerged from the surrounding forest and formed a circle around the unicorn and Knot. With a flourish of his paw, Knot removed his hat and bowed before the unicorn. In the first rays of the morning sun, the unicorn rose upon his hind legs. The horn shone with a blinding radiance. Keelie covered her face, and smelled coffee ...

She awoke and blinked in the dim light that filtered through the RV's curtains. That was a weird dream, even for her.

Luckily, the smell of coffee was real. Thank goodness. Sir Davey was up. She walked to the kitchen and poured herself a cup, the dark brown liquid reminding her of the tincture Dad had made her take.

Dad came into the kitchen, long hair flowing. Keelie almost dropped her cup of coffee. She'd never seen it loose. He always kept it pulled back, even when they'd been in the forests. Keelie studied him from the rim of her cup as she took her first sip.

He sat down heavily on the bench opposite her and closed his eyes. His hair moved slightly, revealing a pointed ear tip that reminded her of Elia's friends. They hadn't looked well either, the other day.

On the table was a copy of Ye Wildewood Gazette Ye Wildewood Gazette, the Faire paper. Keelie picked it up and read the headline aloud: "'Two More Jousters Sick, Lodge Quarantined.'" She looked up. "Dad, what's going on at the lodge? Is it some kind of elf flu?"

Dad lifted his head. "There is no flu, but I'm not surprised that some of the elves are sick." He covered his mouth and coughed.

Sir Davey checked the oatmeal and gave it a stir, his eyes on her dad. "Any luck, Zeke?"

"No. I'm exhausted." Dad leaned into the bench corner, and Keelie remembered how he'd leaned against the counter in the shop for support. He hadn't done that at the High Mountain Faire. He noticed her watching him, and sat up straight. His eyes cleared and he smiled. "I don't have the flu."

She smelled cinnamon. Her oatmeal didn't have any added spices, so his sudden healthy appearance had to be magic. He was trying to whammy her. Her worry briefly deepened into panic. He must be worse off than she thought. She would not lose Dad, too. She'd work harder in the woodshop to give him a break, and she wouldn't complain. Meanwhile, she would check in with Janice to see what sort of natural remedy she could suggest for Dad.

Beads of sweat dotted his skin.