To Keelie, it seemed as if everything was happening in slow motion. Peascod rushed past her to attack Dad. The jester’s bell rang out as they fought in a blur of arms, legs, and jester hat.
Toshi rounded on her. Dropping the Compendium, Keelie grabbed an abandoned goblin sword and swung it at the puppet flying toward her. She smacked it with the side of the sword, batting it away. Toshi recovered swiftly, and, knife outstretched, returned like a puppet arrow.
Keelie felt time slow as it drew near. She noticed every detail of Toshi’s tattered clothes, the painted eyes, the glint of the lethal little blade. With one swift move, she sliced off the head.
It fell, bouncing, as the puppet’s body flopped to the ground.
Dark energy flowed from Toshi like greasy smoke. It drifted toward Peascod, enveloping both the jester and Dad, hiding them in a dark shroud of noxious vapor. A loud gurgling emerged from within the miasma.
“Dad?” Keelie took several deep, ragged breaths as she picked up the Compendium. As she touched the book, a wind blew and cleared away the dark fog. Two bodies lay, crumpled together, on the ground. She didn’t dare think about the impossible.
“I’m fine,” Dad said, his face still in the dirt.
Relief flooded through her. Keelie clutched the book closer to her chest.
Dad pushed Peascod’s body off him. The jester’s decapitated head rolled away like a gory bowling ball, nose eaten away, mottled skin pale and pocked with oozing, infected sores.
Keelie’s relief was colored with the need for a hot shower and lots of antibacterial soap.
Dad stood up. His face was red, but other than that, he seemed fine. Stepping back, he breathed heavily, trying to regain his wind. Keelie blinked back tears and threw her arms around her father, clasping the Compendium and the branch as he embraced her.
The branch began to tremble.
Dad stepped back. “What is this, daughter?”
“It was a gift from Hrok, who said we may need it to get back to our own dimension.”
“Indeed.”
The battle continued all around them. The goblins numbered fewer now, as the fae knights and the army of shopkeepers and performers battled the remaining goblins. The dragons worked the rear, picking off goblins as they broke ranks to run away.
Blue and red blasts of magic glowed and burst over the magic maze, where Tavyn and Herne were battling. Keelie wished there was a way she could help Herne-he was a nature god, sure, but Tavyn was wicked and devious and wanted Herne’s job. Maybe part of Tavyn’s plan was to steal Herne’s power; she couldn’t underestimate him.
“Dad, I need to go to Herne.”
Dad put an armored arm out to stop her. “Herne is powerful. He can fight without your aid.”
The Compendium in her arms began to bounce as if it wanted to say something.
“I think I need to be there,” Keelie said, holding tight to the book.
Dad started to speak, but seemed to reconsider. He puffed out a breath. “I want to protect you, but it’s futile. You’re powerful enough to be of help. Let’s go together.”
They rushed to the site of the battle, which had moved out of the maze, near the candle shop. Melted candles and overturned candle stands were scattered everywhere, left in a mess from the magical tornado that had swept through. Tavyn launched a blast at Herne, who stepped aside; the bolt of dark, inky magic hit the side of the pub, leaving a huge hole in the wall.
Tavyn cut his eyes over to Keelie. “I’m glad you have brought me the book.”
“Keelie, do not let him have the book, whatever you do.” Sweat trickled down Herne’s face as he hurled another ball of magic.
The Compendium bounced in Keelie’s arms again, slipping loose enough for the cover to flip open. Pages flew, landing open at the Gods of Old section. An illustration of Herne filled the pages-the horned hunter, mounted on a fiery-eyed horse.
Keelie read, The nature god and all gods of Earth pull their power from the magical core of the planet.
But they were now in a different dimension, so Herne couldn’t refuel by tapping into the magical core of anything. Keelie suddenly realized that Peascod had been played like a puppet-Tavyn had always planned to fight Herne this way, and he was the one who’d planted the idea of another dimension in Peascod’s mind.
She looked again at the battle. It seemed that Herne’s powers were diminishing, while the goblin-elf appeared to be growing stronger.
The pages in the book turned.
Transporting to an Original Location Spelclass="underline"
Secure an object from a living thing such as a tree, a flower, or even shrubbery, and place it in the ground. With this object and the power from the Compendium, the chosen one must visualize the original location and call upon the power of the Great Sylvus, the original author of this Compendium.
Sylvus had written the Compendium. Cool!
Keelie knew what to do. She lowered Hrok’s branch to the ground, placed her hand on the Compendium, and visualized the faire.
She’d never called upon a god before, but she would now. As Keelie pushed the branch into the ground, she felt for Earth magic, the place she had touched when calling on the forests. The branch vibrated. Stretching tall, it grew until it towered above her head. She smelled the spicy scent of Herne’s domain, but his energy was not hers. She couldn’t draw on it.
Dad’s eyes widened. “Daughter, what magic is this?”
“Sylvus’s,” she whispered. “Hold on, Dad.” She started to read from the book, supplying words that fit their situation: “Oh Great Sylvus, return us to our original home. Hear my cry. Hear my plea to return the faire and everyone within it to the Earth,” she concluded loudly.
In her mind, she saw a misty realm, and slowly, an image emerged of many hooded beings gathered around a circular hearth. She couldn’t see them clearly. She noted that some of them yawned as if they’d been awakened from a nap. Could these be the old gods?
She heard the deep-toned laughter of a god, one that was green-tinged and smelled of life. It had to be Sylvus.
Visualizing the High Mountain Renaissance Faire, Keelie recalled the many friends and memories she’d made there since arriving almost a year ago.
A strong wind blew all around her, and the noises of the battle faded in the background. Keelie heard Tavyn shouting “no.”
Green magic filled her and the ground rumbled beneath her feet.
She heard a deep voice in her mind.
You have been chosen to watch the green of Earth. To be messenger and arbitrator to the gods of old and the magical beings of the new times.
Keelie swallowed. She didn’t need another job. Why me?
You are one of the chosen.
The chosen? Keelie didn’t know if that was good or not, but she didn’t think she should argue with Sylvus. But, given that he was the god of the elves, she wanted to make sure he didn’t do things the elven way, not explaining things and situations to her.
Could you send me instructions before you send me out to do something? I’d really appreciate clear communication.
You have the Compendium. Fare thee well, Keliel Heartwood, until we meet again.
Greenness enveloped her, and then she felt the furnace-like heat of Herne’s kingdom. She drew up great armfuls of it and tossed it, like a heap of rope, toward the forest god.
She felt Herne’s surprise, and saw his melting chocolate eyes see her. He knew what she’d done for him. And then she knew no more.
twenty-four
When Keelie awoke, she saw Herne hovering next to her. He looked worried. Dad’s face floated next to Herne’s. Fala waved at her from the side, his outfit sparkling clean as if he hadn’t been in battle.
She tried to sit up, head aching. “Why am I on the ground? Are we back on Earth?”
“To answer your first question, you fainted when you called out to Sylvus,” Dad said.
“To answer your second question,” Herne said, interrupting Dad, “yes, we’re back on Earth. You did well, Keelie Heartwood.”