Into the Wildewood by Gillian Summers Read Free Book Online Page B

would love to come up to and hug, whereas Plumpkin’s button eyes spun round and round in counterclockwise directions, making the dragon look like he’d been smoking crack.
    “I wish.” Finch sighed. “We lost the bottom half to a disgruntled wench last year. She took off to be a showgirl, so it’s probably in Vegas with her. The purple dragon suit is what we’ve got, and the kiddies are expecting to see Plumpkin. You’re it. So, hold your nose and zip up.” If dragons could assume human form, Finch was one of them.
    Elia and her elf gal pals had gathered together and were whispering to one another. The looks they were giving Keelie would’ve made even a dragon nervous.
    After making sure the head fit, and handing her a script, Finch retreated to her office. Keelie dressed in her own clothes again. The Vernerd smell lingered.
    Smelly costume in hand, Keelie left the building and walked past a small trail covered in pine mulch. This was the road that bordered the forest and led back to the campground. She could take the Plumpkin suit back to Sir Davey’s RV, or walk through the Faire and show Dad the stupid suit. Maybe he would have sympathy for his poor little girl, who had to wear a costume in which some former lice-infested idiot had puked his hung-over guts out. If Keelie ever met the disgruntled wench who’d stolen the bottom half of the unicorn costume, she would kick her butt into Canada. Great, now she was quoting Finch.
    A shadow crossed the path and blocked out the sun. Keelie stopped, chills of anticipation dancing up her back. Oh please, be the unicorn !
    The figure stepped out of the forest, still in the shadows. Keelie recoiled. It was Elianard, Elia’s elf-lord father.

six
    Elianard stepped into the dappled sun of the path, dressed in luxurious robes embroidered with trees. His perma-sneer was plastered on his face.
    The afternoon was eerily silent. The road between Admin and the food courts was usually busy, but she and Elianard were alone. Ol’ Sneer-a-nard didn’t intimidate Keelie, but if a yard gnome with sharp teeth and a red cap appeared with him, she’d bolt.
    “I thought that after your last experience, you’d learned your lesson about following paths that lead you into the deep, dark woods, Keliel.” Elianard’s voice was deep, deeper than usual.
    Keelie wondered if he’d taken villain voice lessons to make himself sound more menacing. It wasn’t working. He should ask for a refund.
    “What do you want? Looking for a book you might have buried?” She suspected that Elianard had used a forbidden book of elven lore and magic to summon the evil Red Cap to Colorado. Both the book and the Red Cap had been annihilated, but with the book destroyed, there had been no proof of Elianard’s involvement.
    The Plumpkin suit was getting heavy. Keelie tossed it to her other arm, its eyes rattling.
    “Never speak to me in that tone—” Elianard sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “What is that smell?”
    “You?” Keelie replied. She wasn’t about to admit that her costume stank.
    “Impudent child.” Elianard scowled. “Let me give you some advice. Stay out of the woods. It’s not a place for half-breeds.” His brows furrowed as he leaned toward her and sniffed again.
    “Yeah right. The trees talk to me. I’m a tree shepherd, remember?” Of course, her father had forbidden her to enter the forest, too, but he didn’t need to know that.
    Elianard wrinkled his brow as he studied the purple dragon suit she held in her arms. Glitter sprinkled the ground around her. “You’re a freak of nature. In the old days, we would’ve left something like you on a mountainside and let you die of exposure.”
    “That explains why the elven race thrives in such large numbers,” Keelie answered. “You killed off your best ones.”
    He ignored her jibe. “At least our bloodline is pure, or rather, it is if we ignore your existence.”
    Keelie didn’t have to stay here talking to this creep. She