Free The Secret of the Dread Forest: The Faire Folk Trilogy by Gillian Summers

“I was. How were your lessons?”
    “Interesting. Niriel’s sword fighting was my favorite.” That wasn’t a total lie.
    His eyebrows rose. “Really?”
    “Yeah. He let me bring the sword home, too, so that I can practice.” She rubbed her right arm. “Which I’ll do as soon as I can move again.”
    He laughed. “Swords never thrilled me. And now I have to oversee the sword making,” he added ruefully.
    “Yeah, I don’t get that, Dad.” Keelie sat on her bed and motioned for him to join her.
    He sat at the foot of the bed, smiling at Alora’s twinkling earrings. The treeling was in a resting state, sort of a tree sleep, which meant she wouldn’t interrupt them.
    “Dad, is Grandmother really sick? She doesn’t seem ill to me.”
    He leaned back against the bedpost and crossed hisarms. “She’s not sick the way I was back in New York. She doesn’t have a fever, but she’s not as strong as she was a few years ago, and with every day she’s a little weaker. Her strength is directly tied to the strength of the forest. As the Dread fails, so does she.”
    “But when you were sick with the elf flu it was because the Wildewood was sick. Einhorn was sick.”
    A vivid image came to Keelie, of Elia helping her father, Elianard, by using her magic harp to drain Einhorn’s life force. A big reason why she didn’t trust the new, helpful Elia. At least the harp had been destroyed.
    Dad stared out the window, thinking. “We are tied to the trees. Their fate is ours. It’s becoming harder to protect them, Keelie. I knew that my turn would one day come.”
    “Three hundred years, right?”
    He smiled. “Yes. A long enough apprenticeship.”
    “Why doesn’t your brother help out?”
    Dad’s smile disappeared and the green summer of his eyes grew grey and cold. “Who has spoken to you of this?”
    She pressed her lips together, regretting her hasty question. Elia was holding a secret for her, and she didn’t dare tell Dad the details of their conversation.
    “I just heard. When Keliatiel came to this forest, she brought her two young sons. Two. That would be you and someone else.”
    His glacial stare continued for a few more seconds, then he sighed. “I did have a brother, Dariel. He died long ago. Do not speak of him to your grandmother. It hurts her still.”
    “What happened to him?”
    “Does it matter? It was long ago, when this country was young.”
    Keelie tried to imagine what it would be like to live for hundreds of years. “Do you remember the Civil War?”
    “Yes. It did not affect us much here. The Gold Rush was worse. Many came west, and the people who lived near us suffered much.”
    “The Native Americans, right?”
    “Yes. When they were moved out, we called up the Dread to keep the others out. It was the first time the Dread had been summoned in this land.” He fell quiet, remembering.
    “In this land,” Keelie repeated. “Elianard told me about the migration. Where did you come from?”
    Dad smiled again. “Didn’t you read fairy tales?”
    Keelie tilted her head. “Under the Hill?”
    “Wrong fairy tale. Actually, we come from many lands, but Keliatiel was born in the forests of the Pyrenees, as was my brother. I was born here.”
    “And your father?”
    “He joined the trees a hundred years ago. His name was Zaros. You’re a lot like him.”
    She tried out her grandfather’s name. “Zaros. Why doesn’t anyone talk about him?”
    Dad shrugged. “He faded long ago. He was very old. We live in the now. Elves remember as trees do, but those who follow the old ways do not mourn.”
    So it was her human side that made her ache for hermother’s hug, made her wish she could hear Mom’s annoyed call to do the chores she’d skipped.
    “I’m glad we have each other, Dad.”
    Zeke moved closer to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. “I am too, Keelie. And if anything happened to you, I would mourn forever.”
    “Me too, Dad.” It had grown dark outside,