Aghast, Keelie stared at Vangar. “He’s been nothing but kind and helpful. How dare you accuse him?”
“Think about it. He set me up. First, he was the one who convinced everyone that my forge was a fire hazard. “
“Because your forge was a fire hazard. It took no skill to get people to believe it.”
“But I have the magical ability to stop fire,” Vangar said between clenched teeth. “I’m a dragon. If I’d been home, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“I’ll keep an open mind.” Keelie forced the words out to appease the blacksmith, who seemed to be walking a bridge between reality and buggy-buggy land. “And I’ll keep an eye on Hob,” she said. “I need to go.”
He swept his hand forward as if guiding her up the path. “Be on your way, milady, but keep this conversation between the two of us.”
Keelie edged past him, then blinked as he vanished into the bushes. Finch definitely had a lot of explaining to do.
Outside Hob’s shop, Dad was waiting for her. “Where have you been?”
“I ran into some people who wanted to give me their condolences on the fire.” Keelie made a quick decision not to tell her father about Vangar or how he’d asked for her help in proving his innocence-not for Vangar’s sake, but because Dad had enough on his mind. Vangar had given her something to think about, and his words troubled her.
Dad nodded. “It’s been a shock to the entire faire. Everyone wants to help.”
Now she’d lied to her father. Her home was a pile of smoldering debris. Keelie choked back tears as silvery smoke streamed up from the wreckage. She couldn’t believe she’d been put in this position. Strange, how the smoldering remains of Heartwood remained confined in a circle. And that Hobknocker’s, with its fragile paper masks, had been unaffected.
Hob stepped out onto the porch, cradling the potted goblin tree in his arms. “Here you go, Zeke. I admire your dedication to your plants.” He lowered the tree down onto the front steps leading to his shop. “Are you sure you want to take it tonight?”
Dad motioned toward Keelie. “Since the little tree is the only thing left of Heartwood… ”
“Yes, I missed it so much. I couldn’t spend another night without my tree.” Keelie sighed sadly, not faking, although her sadness wasn’t related to the angry and ungrateful beast of a tree.
The little goblin tree sent Keelie angry red thoughts. You lie. You don’t care about me. Nobody cares about me.
She smiled at the goblin tree, Hob, and Dad to mask what she was truly feeling, which was to toss the treeling onto the hot embers. You’re lucky to be alive. You’re going with us whether you want to or not.
Green-red anger seethed within the little tree. Keelie sensed the goblin taint flowing its sap like venom, slowly poisoning it with dark magic. She had to find a way to get it out before it got out of hand.
I know a secret that you don’t know, and when you find out, you’re going to die. They want you dead. All of them, for what you did.
She didn’t know what the little tree meant, so she ignored its ranting.
Dad picked up the tree and waved good night to Hob. “Thank you again for your help.”
“You would’ve done the same for me. I’m sorry about your loss, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it was Vangar who did this.”
Dad didn’t look over at the smoking ruin of what had been their shop and their home. “I don’t think it was Vangar who started the fire.” His voice weary. “We appreciate your help, Hob, in alerting the other shopkeepers to the fire.”
“Despite your generous spirit, Zeke, Vangar is the guilty party, and the other shopkeepers have complained about his forge.” Hob lifted his handsome face, and in the light glowing from within the shop defiance glinted in his eyes.
Hob definitely had it in for Vangar.
“Keelie, let’s go.” Dad’s voice was hard and crisp. One of the little goblin tree’s branches slapped Dad across the face. He didn’t flinch. Anyone who wasn’t familiar with trees would’ve assumed it was a breeze that made the branch move.
She followed Dad into the trees. She had no idea where they were going.
Once they were on the bridge, out of sight of the shops up the hill, Dad put down the pot and grabbed the goblin tree by its uppermost branches, letting the clay pot dangle over the edge of the bridge.
Shocked, Keelie opened herself to their telepathic conversation.
Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drop you now.
Go ahead and do it.
Was the little tree suicidal, pushing Dad like this? Had the fire driven Dad to the edge of sanity?
Her lantern swinging wildly, Keelie rushed over and tried to grab the tree’s trunk. “Stop, Dad. What are you doing? You’ve got to stop.”
Knot raced by and jumped on the bridge railing. “Meow!”
Dad’s look stopped her. “This tree has a choice. It can live, or if it wants to destroy itself, then I’ll make its wish come true. But it’s not going to take anyone else with it.”
Keelie didn’t like seeing her father like this. She forced herself to remain calm. “You’re scaring me, Dad. I don’t understand what you’re doing. Let’s take the tree to the elves. It’ll be safe, and none of them can hear it talking.”
“No! It will put them in danger.”
Keelie turned to the goblin tree, who pushed its face through the bark at her.
You stupid elves won’t figure out what’s going on, not before it’s too late.
She ignored it. “Dad, what did the goblin tree do that has you so upset?”
The treeling’s laughter echoed in her mind. The acorn doesn’t fall from the tree. Hey Zeke-she can’t figure it out. I’ll tell you what, Keliel Tree Talker. Dear old Dad thinks that your precious goblin and little ol’ me started the fire.
Keelie inhaled sharply and coughed as if smoke had filled her lungs again.
“Keelie?” Dad seemed as if he’d suddenly come back to himself.
“I’m okay.” But the tree definitely wasn’t. “Is it telling the truth?”
Dad nodded grimly.
The goblin tree laughed hysterically. Go ahead and toss me down to the river. I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to fly.
“Zeke, are you and Keelie okay?” A loud voice boomed from the other end of the bridge.
Keelie sighed with relief when she recognized Sir Davey.
“We’re fine,” Dad answered. “Stay back, Davey.”
“Folks said they saw you and Keelie walk toward Water Sprite Lane. Why don’t you rest at my camper?” Davey’s voice had a cautious tone.
Dad slowly nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
The goblin tree narrowed its eyes and chortled. They’re coming for you. They’re going to get you and your mean cat, too.
She had to think. So much had happened tonight. Vangar had said he had been set up-could he have been telling the truth? Keelie decided to look into it. Right now, she had to defuse the situation at hand, because it felt as if she was being dragged to a place between madness and sanity. It was a fragile border.
seven
The stream burbled under the bridge. Keelie wondered if the sprite was down below listening to this conversation.
Even the bhata gathered in the trees had been silent as they watched the horror unfolding before them. A tree shepherd threatening a tree. She sensed their confusion.
“Dad, should we take the tree with us to the RV? No one will know it’s there, and its small enough to keep inside.”
The little goblin tree spat sap. I do not wish to be among humans. They’re filthy and nasty, and they’re loud.
Dad tightened his hold on the goblin tree’s branches. “Davey, this tree is responsible for what happened to Heartwood. It could’ve killed Keelie and destroyed the entire faire.”
Despite Dad’s command to stay back, Sir Davey came onto the bridge, his hand smoothing his Van Dyke beard. “There are those among the shop owners who think the blacksmith might be guilty. How can a tree have started a fire?”