Now she knew what the wings at the Crystal Faire were for. Controlled flight. Keelie desperately wanted a pair. "Where are we going, exactly?"

"Markettown. It's our marketplace-our Under-the-Hill version of the Quicksilver Faire."

Keelie didn't know if she liked the sound of that. On the other hand, maybe she'd find some wings, although she had no idea of what pa.s.sed for money down here. Going to Quicksilver had been enough for her. And she didn't like the sound of rogue goblins. But before she could respond, Herne waved his cloak.

Keelie rose like a bubble in a gla.s.s of c.o.ke. "Oh no. Not again. I can't do the whoosh." She saw the ground far below her; she was hovering like an alien s.p.a.ceship.

Herne chuckled. "We won't whoosh, as you put it. Flying is different." He took off, his hands at his sides, looking more like a surfer than Superman.

Keelie glided in the air behind him, her hair blowing back from her face. She looked down. Mistake.

Herne grabbed her arm. "Looking down is not recommended." He pointed ahead. "There's my home."

They were close to the castle, and now she could see that a small town had sprung up around its base.

"We'll walk in," Herne said. "Flying disturbs some of my people."

They landed outside the stone gate entrance into the town. Keelie was relieved when her toes touched the dirt, pleased that she could still stand without wobbling. She realized she'd quickly acclimated to Under-the-Hill, more easily than she had to the Quicksilver Faire. Funny how much she liked being here, despite the gloom and the reptilianbas.e.m.e.nt smell.

Loud voices sang from an ale house inside the gates. She almost knew the words to the song, and felt herself drawn to it. She knew she should talk to Herne about helping her with the rift, but curiosity overcame her. This was the largest gathering of dark fae in the hemisphere. If Knot were here, he would've already found the alehouse.

As they entered the stone gates, a bug-eyed creature was suddenly right there with them, watching every move Keelie made. He made her uncomfortable and she walked faster, giving him plenty of room. It could be that it was protective of Herne, but maybe it blamed her for Peascod's absence.

Unlike at the Quicksilver Faire, the market stalls here were close together. Crowds filled the narrow lanes. Some of the residents looked almost human, while others were fantastically different. They talked and bargained and laughed. Keelie had not heard any good-natured laughter in Quicksilver. Although strange, this town seemed friendly.

Herne walked ahead, then stopped and turned to her. "Are you coming? I'm sure you'll find Markettown as unique as Quicksilver."

Keelie followed, watching out for the tiny goblins who scurried everywhere. Strangely, she didn't feel out of place.

She stepped aside as two huge trolls in long robes shuffled past, tusks protruding from their lower lips. They released a stench that Keelie recognized from Quicksilverthe hooded creature there had been a troll. A group of stork-legged men with little fat bodies, like bowling b.a.l.l.s on stilts, scrambled to get out of their way. They cursed as one of them got his legs tangled and they all fell into a produce stand. The stand's owner was a three-mouthed man, and he used all his mouths to curse them impressively.

She was comforted at the sight of dwarves. At least she knew how to deal with them. Unlike the abandoned feeling of the Under-the-Hill beneath the Dread Forest, this Under-the-Hill seemed very much alive. Maybe Herne's presence made the difference.

And despite the gloomy light all around them, Keelie couldn't help noticing how different this Under-the-Hill was from the High Court. The dark fae seemed happier than the Shining Ones. They were more real, or maybe just more like her ... they seemed to accept each other regardless of appearance or power. Keelie wondered if her sense of belonging was genuine or part of some glamour.

She crashed into Herne, who helped her and wrapped his arm protectively around her. "What's wrong?"

"It's-" Keelie stared at him, her tongue was tied. She loved the feeling of his arms around her. Was she under some kind of spell?

"It's a spider. I'm afraid of spiders," she stammered, lying. She was afraid of her attraction to Herne.

He put his other arm around her, gathering her close to him. "You're safe with me." He brushed his face against her hair. "Your blood calls to me. I find you enchanting."

"I'm sixteen, Herne. I haven't even had a boyfriend for even a whole summer yet, and your last relationship lasted five hundred years. I can't process that."

He smiled at her. "I can wait a long time for the right consort." He ran his arms down to her waist, then kissed her hard and fast on the lips-a drive-by smooch. He released her and stepped back and bowed. A crowd had gathered and burst into applause.

Keelie blushed, though she determined not to be embarra.s.sed if he wasn't. "Aren't we supposed to find out about the rogue goblins ?"

"Yes, and we are meeting someone in Markettown, as I told you. She may have helpful information." Herne looked down at her as they walked along the dirt path. "Heed me in this town, Keelie. If rogue goblins are here, you, more than any, will be in peril. Your humanity is like a beacon."

"Of course. That makes sense." Keelie hesitated. "I wonder, though. You said you would help heal the rift, and you're friendly with the dwarves ... so why can't you and the dwarves just join with the elves?" She figured she'd leave the High Court out of the conversation until later.

"The elves trust no fae, not even the Green Man, who shares their love of nature." Herne cut his eyes over to her. "Doesn't your own elven grandmother distrust the fae?"

Keelie reddened. "She doesn't trust anybody. Believe me, it's an issue."

"How do you feel about that?"

"What do you expect me to say? I have fae blood, too," Keelie said. "It's in me, and I can make up my own mind. But my family knows that I'm stubborn and opinionated."

"Linsa was like that. You remind me of her." Herne stared toward the darkness, lost in thought.

"I hope I don't hurt your feeling by asking, but if she was murdered, why isn't anyone looking for her killer?"

"I know who killed her," Herne said. "A goblin wizard has arisen who gathers power as he seeks to usurp my throne. I don't know who he is, but he will reveal himself, and I will be waiting for him."

Keelie reeled. "Just like that? You'll wait? You're fae. You're immortal. It could take centuries."

"I can wait." He smiled at her. "Your human side is showing. You're so impatient."

"Maybe I can hear that big clock ticking," Keelie retorted. "I'm so sorry Linsa died."

"Thank you. We thought we had forever. We always pursued our own interests and spent time apart because we thought it kept the relationship fresh. We didn't want to take one another for granted. Tread lightly with Sean, Keelie. You will live as long or longer than he, and you must be certain of your choices."

Keelie looked up at Herne, astounded by this revelation.

"Ah, we're here." He stopped before a huge arched doorway studded with silver nailheads. No iron here. He opened the door and entered. "Now we'll find out about our rogue goblins."

Keelie started to follow him, still thinking about what he'd said to her. She was destined to live as long as Sean. It could have been bl.u.s.ter-or perhaps the Green Man, the King of the Dark Fae, knew something about her that she didn't know.

Her heart rushed with hope. Death had taken so much from her, and she'd been resigned to living a normal human span even though her father and other relatives would live for centuries more. If life was dealing her a better hand of cards, she would joyfully accept them. Maybe she wouldn't be immortal, but she would be happy with hundreds of years to learn, to be, and to love.

Most importantly, she could freely love Sean. She'd held back, thinking it was unfair to ask for love when her own life would be so brief. Now she'd only have to worry about Sean loving her in return.

Still abuzz with Herne's revelation, Keelie stepped into the shop. She was immediately a.s.saulted by familiar animal shrieks, growls, and howls, and the indescribable smells of dozens of unusual creatures. She was somehow back in the familiar shop from the Quicksilver Faire, or else its twin. A slimy hand reached out and touched her hair. She shoved the hand away and faced its owner, a blue-furred monkey wearing a jester's suit.

Keelie stared at its eyes, wondering if it was Peascod in animal form, but it had soulful, purple eyes.

"What are you?"

"That's a plimikin." Maemtri's voice answered. She wore a long green dress covered with an paisley ap.r.o.n that could've come from the Vera Bradley collection.

"Wait. How did we get to Quicksilver?" Keelie looked around. Yep, same place. The basket of hissing roaches sat on the flimsy table, and Henry the lion snoozed in front of the fireplace.

Maemtri's eyes followed her gaze. She leaped over to the basket and pushed it back to a safer location. "Don't want a repeat of that tragic accident. You aren't in Quicksilver, Keliel. We're in Under-the-Hill right now, a dangerous place to be if you don't know where you are."

The plimikin jumped up on a counter to a gla.s.s jar filled with what looked like chocolate chip cookies. He removed one, then stopped and eyed Keelie. "You want one? They're very good." He plunked the cookie into his mouth and screwed the lid back onto the cookie jar.

"No thanks." The talking blue-furred monkey's slimy hand was an appet.i.te killer. Plus, the no-eating rule probably applied here, too.

Herne noticed and laughed. "You're safe here, Keelie."

Maemtri dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "He's right. And I'm glad you're back. I wanted to tell you something when we last met, but that dreadful cat knocked over my c.o.c.kroaches and caused a scene. I knew your Grandmother Josephine." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "People have been keeping secrets from you-for what purpose I know not, except that elves have always distrusted the fae. Your grandmother is one of those secrets. I want to tell you about her."

The world was getting smaller and smaller, but weirder and weirder. This fairy woman who rescued familiars knew her kind-hearted Grandmother Jo?

"What secrets? I recently learned that she had fae blood. But my grandmother never left Los Angeles-did you visit her there?" Keelie asked.

Herne raised his eyebrows at Keelie as he removed his cloak and draped it over a coat tree. The coat tree exited the room, its little feet tapping on the wooden floor.

"I have a lot to tell you. Have a seat?" Maemtri gestured toward a velvet sofa with a carved backboard. Keelie sat down, sinking into the cushions. Herne lowered himself beside her and sank against her. Then Keelie grabbed the back of the sofa and pulled herself up. The wood sang at her touch. It came from the Under-the-Hill forest, and she saw the image of the first forest. In the distance, a stooped and wrinkled woman was standing underneath a tall tree that grew as high as the clouds, its roots sinking all the way into the Earth.

It was the Mother Tree. The old woman turned to Keelie and spoke, her voice whispering like dry dirt falling on rock. Knowing your roots is important to help you determine your true home.

Plummeting back to the here and now, Keelie looked at Herne, who was still slumped into the Victorian cushion, looking relaxed and talking to Maemtri as if they were old friends catching up. No one had noticed that she'd zoned out. She didn't know what that had been about, but it reminded her that Maemtri hadn't yet told her about Grandmother Josephine, and she needed to turn the conversation back to that topic. Maybe that was what the old woman in the vision meant.

Herne looked at her with concern. "Are you okay? You seemed lost in thought."

"Just wondering about where Maemtri saw Grandma Maemtri smiled at her. "You are mistaken when you say your grandmother never left Los Angeles. She was born to the High Court, and she was a friend of mine." At Keelie's look of surprise, she continued. "Your grandmother was a fairy who fell in love with an injured mortal man she'd healed. Healing was her gift, but Queen Vania grew angry when she heard that a fairy had fallen in love with a human. It had happened too often, and if too many fae mated with humans, soon there would be no pureblood fae."

Blood pounded in Keelie's head. If Grandma Jo was pureblood fae, that meant that Keelie had way more than just a little drop of fae blood. She fought the urge to jump up and scream "no way." Rubbing at her eyes to stop the burning, she turned away from Herne's inquisitive eyes.

Herne leaned in closer, interested. "I've never heard this tale. Keelie, you have many secrets."

Secrets Keelie hadn't known, either.

Maemtri snapped her fingers at Herne. "I'm not finished." The Lord of Nature pressed his lips together and frowned.

"Queen Vania decided to make an example of your grandmother," Maemtri continued.

"How?" Keelie asked.

"She turned your grandmother into a brownie. She banished her from the High Court."

Banished. Was that how Gran ended up in California? "What exactly is a brownie? I don't think we're talking about a chocolate dessert or a little girls' service club," Keelie said.

"It's a wrinkled creature that likes to do housework. Brownies are transformed creatures who have displeased the queen at one time." Herne pushed himself into a straighter position. "Under-the-Hill is crowded with them."

Keelie gasped. "That's horrible. My grandmother didn't look like that."

"The meaner ones are boggarts. They are usually wizards or witches who have abused their power," Maemtri said. "They're very mean to their familiars."

The plimikin ran to Maemtri and hid its face in her skirts. "Once they've been transformed, I rescue the familiars." She patted the blue-furred monkey, and Henry the lion stretched and came to her too, rubbing his big face against her knees.

Guiltily, Keelie thought of Knot. Maybe she shouldn't call him s...o...b..ll anymore, or push him out of bed when he licked her hair at night. She just wanted her cat back. She shook herself. What was she thinking? Two minutes in the naughty cat's presence and all this love talk would vanish from her head.

"Willow, whom you knew as Josephine, was distraught," Maemtri said. "Even as a brownie she mourned her human, whom she loved so. Linsa took pity on her and transformed her into a human, too. She'd been a brownie long enough to be affected by brownie ways, but even as a human she kept her fairy healing power. Such transformations are tricky that way." She paused. "One thing was certain, however. As a human, Willow would live a human lifespan. But she chose it anyway, to be with that boy. No one expected her to have children, and that the fae blood would breed true."

Keelie was stunned at the news. She'd struggled with not knowing how long she would live, but her grandmother had chosen the shorter life for love. It was as if Keelie and Grandma Jo were living parallel lives with some paradoxical twists. Luckily, she hadn't inherited her grandmother's compulsive need to organize closets, but apparently Josephine-Willow-had been a Healer, so maybe that's where she got her own satisfaction at healing trees. Her fairy past, working with her elven present.

Queen Vania was something else, though. She'd transformed her Grandmother Jo into a wrinkled and pitiful creature because she wanted to make an example of someone. And now she needed Keelie's help to get out of trouble. Indignant, Keelie clenched her fists, and the skin on her chest felt hot. "How dare Vania ask me for help? Doesn't she know who I am?" Dad was going to get an earful.

Herne gave the familiar's shop owner a stern look. "Oh, she knows. I suspect she didn't want anyone telling you about your grandmother."

Keelie lifted her chin. "I'm glad Maemtri did."

"Vania still needs your help," Maemtri said, her warm eyes holding Keelie's. "The realms all need to cooperate, if we're to solve the problem of the rift and the wild magic."

"That's what I've heard." Keelie's head was still spinning in reaction to what she'd just learned.

"You've seen what has happened, and it will only get worse," Maemtri said.

"Leaking magic and a rift aren't your only problems," a booming voice bellowed from the fireplace. The rocks that backed it were grinding aside, exposing a drafty opening.

Herne chuckled, and Maemtri didn't seem to find anything strange when King Gneiss appeared in the fireplace like it was a front door. He stepped over the crackling logs, then wiped his feet carefully on the rug before stretching back to his full four feet right in front of her eyes. Long gray hair flowed from under the quicksilver crown on his furrowed head, an interesting look with his dirt-encrusted clothes. "Goblins be yet problem, and they're growing stronger.

Keelie felt a chill in her blood, and pictured the armored goblins in Big Nugget.

Herne straightened, and bowed to the King of the Dwarves. "Tell me something I don't already know."

The king's hard expression turned even more stony. "When the shaft collapsed in the rift, we discovered that wild goblins have been mining the quicksilver, the dirty devils."

Herne started in surprise and his face twisted with anger. "My goblins are forbidden in the mines. Are you certain that they are not mine?"

King Gneiss nodded grimly. "These are wild ones, Green Man. And they seem to be banding together."

The plimikin pushed its face deeper into Maemtri's skirts at the mention of wild goblins.

"This does not bode well." Herne's mouth pursed as he stalked back and forth. "Wild goblins have always been few and solitary. Last one I've heard about was chased from the Redwood Forest many years ago."

Keelie started at the mention of the redwoods. "If it's the one I think you mean, he died there, and poisoned one of the great trees. And another came. I saw him."

Herne and King Gneiss stared at her. Maemtri had gone pale.

"Goblins in the redwoods?" Herne looked at Maemtri. "Did you know of this?"

Maemtri shook her head mutely.

"Norzan was with us in the Redwood Forest. Didn't he tell the High Court?" Keelie had grown uneasy at their reaction. Maybe the elves should have been more worried. Then it struck her that they had been, and that was why Grandmother Keliatiel had stayed behind. The most powerful elf on the continent was guarding the most ancient forest.

"There's more. The goblins are above, in the human town." Maemtri patted the plimikin.

King Gneiss growled. "Yes. They are breeding in the cities, where they live off the debris of humankind."

Keelie nodded. "I saw them dancing as we drove through Big Nugget."

"Yet they have not entered the forest," Herne said, looking troubled. "Peascod was my eyes and ears in the mortal world, but I am no longer surprised that he did not speak of it. Let us go investigate." He whistled sharply and the hall tree trotted into the room. He s.n.a.t.c.hed his cloak off the hook.