WILDSIDE

CHAPTER 11 - Fire in the Night

“Hey, don’t throw that away!” Ace called down from the branch where he was straightening curled leaves.
Tony looked up, surprised. “It’s rubbish!”
“It’s useful rubbish,” said Ace, jumping down. “Piece of copper pipe! Will, Tony’s chucking copper away!”
“Good grief!” Will jumped over from the branch he was helping Dan to fix. “What other good stuff have you put in that bin bag?”
“Let’s have a look,” said Ace, and they both dived in.
Madge shook her head in disbelief.
“I never met such hoarders!” she told Rowan, who was holding broken twigs while Madge mended them.
“They make wonderful things though, don’t they?” said Rowan.
“They do,” Madge admitted, watching them clamber out of the bin bag laden with bits of metal and wire, and stopping to talk to Tony and Gemma, who were doing litter.
“Heap the useful rubbish here and we’ll put it in the shed later.”
“OK, Ace,” said Gemma. “Sure you don’t want this mouldy yoghurt pot?”
“Very funny. Ah, no, I’ve got my jeans dirty.”
“Well, what d’you expect, jumping in bin bags?” said Tony, reasonably. “I’d have tipped it out for you if you’d waited!”

David arrived with a prop, to support the biggest broken branch while they repaired the dozens of cracks and tears in bark and wood that had left it dangling in the water. Everyone stopped what he or she was doing to help.
“It won’t move,” shouted Dominic. “It must be caught on something.”
“I can’t see,” called David. “All I can see is a faceful of leaf.”
“It’s grown through that old bike wheel,” called Phil, “and the wheel’s jammed tight into the bed of the brook.”
“Cut it off,” said Madge. “We can free the small piece later and rejoin it.”
“Hurry up!” panted Rowan. “My arms are killing me!”
“Lower it! Rest your arms,” shouted Rose. “Cover, everyone! A man’s coming.”
All the sprites hid, and David waded through the brook, to look at the obstruction.

“Oh no,” Ace whispered to Will. “Look, it’s Cyril!”
“Shall we do a runner now? I have a feeling we’re not going to be too popular round here.”
“Tempting. But he’d spot us. We’ll have to sit tight.”
“What are you up to, then?” Cyril asked David.
“Trying to free this big branch,” said David. “You haven’t got a penknife, have you?”
“D’you know, I might have,” said Cyril. “Hang on, I’ll have a look.”
He started pulling things out of his pockets, bus tickets, conkers, bits of string…
“Yes, here we are.”
David leaned across the bank for it, and cut the branch free. It bounced up a little, spraying everyone.
“Thank you,” said David. “We’ve seen you before, haven’t we? You signed the petition.”
“I did,” said Cyril. “You’ve been working hard on this place, haven’t you? Who grew all them blue flowers?”
“Er, they just grew,” said Rowan. “They look nice, don’t they?”
“Oh, aye. But they don’t look right. Not here. Rather have that tree back. Where’s that lad gone, Ace, that was in it?”
“He had to go home,” said Dominic.
“Shame,” said Cyril. “Nice lad. He could talk to sprites, you know.”
“Here we go,” groaned Ace.
“What do you mean?” asked Rowan. All the children were giving each other nervous glances.
“Give over, you know what I mean. Playing on here, you must have seen ’em. Haven’t you seen the one that lad Ace was talking to, the one with long black hair?”
“If you really do know about sprites,” said Laura, “then you must know that we could never say whether we’d seen any or not.”
“That’s true, lass. Well, if you ever see Cory or Mal, tell them I’d love to see them again. Cyril Carter, 60 Hilton Street.”
“OK, Mr. Carter, we’ll remember,” said David.

The children stood staring as he wandered off. David was very intrigued, wondering who’d say anything first.
“I can’t handle this,” Will whispered. “Madge’ll moan, and everyone will stare, and I’ll lose my temper and feel sick with myself. What am I going to do?”
Before Ace could answer, Dan said,
“I’m really sorry, everyone, for being so careless.”
“Hmm,” said Madge, looking at her. “We’re all going to have to be a lot more careful. Still, as he obviously knows Cory, there’s no great harm done. Now let’s have another go at this branch.”
“Right!” said David. “Rowan, you lift nearest the bank, then Dominic behind you and I’ll lift this end.”

The great branch rose dripping out of the water, and straining to his fullest height, David managed to lift it onto the prop. The sprites sprang into action, repairing every fibre, until gradually it pulled back into place. Will and Ace kept their heads down and worked furiously hard. When the main branch was sound and the prop could be removed, everyone watched the sprites repairing all the dozens of smaller shoots and twigs that were twisted and broken. Dominic climbed up to unfasten the rope swing. The sprites were circling the tree, finishing off and checking they hadn’t missed anything.
“What about this carving on the trunk?” asked David. “Should that go too, do you think?”
“Let’s have a look,” said Madge. She flew up and looked closely, at a carved heart with the initials ‘SK’ in it, twice.
“Leave it,” she said. “Been there sixty years, at least. It’s part of the tree now.”
Rowan had slipped home for dry clothes, and she came back with a big bag.
“Mum sent a picnic for everyone,” she said. “But you have to clean your hands first, on these wipes.”
While Phil was messing about with a wipe that was as big as a bath towel to him, Will took his chance to speak to Dan.
“Thanks a lot,” he muttered, while no-one else was looking.
Dan smiled at him. “You never gave me away. Glad to return the favour.”


Everyone relaxed under the tree and enjoyed the picnic. There were sandwiches, apples and biscuits for David and the children, and drinks for everyone. Clover and Rose lay side by side, resting and looking up into the canopy.
“D’you think Madge believed Dan?” Rose asked quietly.
“ ’Course not,” said Clover. “She knew it was really Will. But that was very clever of Dan. She knew Madge couldn’t ignore a thing like that, so she stopped any chance of a row. And there would have been. Will can’t handle being wrong at the best of times.”
“She was brilliant. Understood all that, so fast, and knew what to say.”
“Exactly. She’s got long black hair too.”
They all wandered across Wildside, through the gentians, and stopped to take a look at the horse chestnut in all its glory.
“It looks perfect,” said Madge. “All ready for tomorrow.”
“I think we ought to keep guard,” said Ace. “I don’t want anyone trying to ruin what we’ve done before tomorrow.”
“Good idea,” said Madge. “And Dan can do it, for being careless. And Will can, too,” she added, with a twinkle in her eye.
Will caved in. “OK, OK,” he laughed. “It was me, really. Thank you all for being so tactful. Come on, Dan. Let’s get on guard.”


Late that night, in the goblins’ barn-like hall, Hogweed stood by a glowing brazier, sick with fear.
“I can’t, he’ll kill me,” he whimpered to himself. “But I’ve got to do summat. How can I stop them?”
He jumped as a door screeched and Ragwort came in with three unlit torches in his hand.
“Where’s the boss?” he wheezed.
“Gone for his cloak,” sighed Hogweed.
“What’s up with you? Scared?”
“ ’Course not. I just don’t reckon much to this idea, that’s all. What’s the point burning the whole place?”
“You fool,” sneered Nightshade. He’d come in so quietly they hadn’t heard him. “Once again, you disappoint me. This is a masterstroke. All their plans to impress the humans, and stop the building, ruined in one swoop! Light the torches!”
Ragwort thrust the torches into the brazier, and they began to glow.
“Go on, Hogweed, you miserable goblin,” said Nightshade in a terrifyingly quiet voice. “Pull one out! Can’t you just see it? A little ripple of flame at the edges, then it catches! Fire rolling across their stupid blue flowers, burning everything in its path! By the time they realise, it’ll be too late for them to do anything about it. When these humans come tomorrow, all they’ll see will be a blackened wasteland. Noise of children crying - delicious. Elves and fairies miserable, defeated - if any of them survive, of course.”

Hogweed could see it all too well. The fire wouldn’t take long to spread. And all the other sprites would be asleep. It would reach their houses, and they wouldn’t be awake. And first it would reach Dan’s…
“No!” shouted Hogweed. “Fighting’s one thing, but this is murder. I’m not having this!”
“I was right about you. They’ve got to you with their soft ways, you snivelling coward. Get out of my way!”
Nightshade put out his hand to grasp a torch, but Hogweed clamped a huge hand round his wrist.
“You’re not doing it! I won’t let you!”
Ragwort pulled at Hogweed’s arm, but Hogweed was bigger, younger and stronger. He didn’t lose his grip on Nightshade. Nightshade didn’t move. He just stared at Hogweed, concentration pouring from him, and Hogweed felt his insides begin to shrivel. Nightshade was transforming him.
“No!” shouted Hogweed. “Stop it! What’re you…”
His hand fell away, a hand no more.
“Come on,” said Nightshade roughly, and he and Ragwort grasped torches and marched out. Behind them, slowly and painfully, a large snail with a blotchy shell crept out to warn Dan.


The goblins didn’t know the elves had set a watch. Will had refused any relief, saying he’d been just as daft as Clover had been, and he’d take the same punishment, and Dan had refused to leave him. They spotted the torches the instant they appeared and gasped with horror as they realised what was happening. Will stared, his mind blank.
Come on, he told himself. Think!
“Water,” said Dan. “I’ll get Clover. Get over there, Will, and try to stop them! I’ll send Ace and Phil.”
She was gone, scurrying down the tree to raise help, and tearing her hands in her speed.
Where exactly were they? It was hard to judge, just two tiny fires glowing far away in the dark. Summoning all his strength, Will jumped as far as the silver birches, then again towards the lights. He crashed to his knees, a few yards short. They hadn’t seen him. He could hear them, though. Nightshade was taking his time, choosing where to start. Obviously they didn’t want to burn their own home.
“A little further, past the patch of gravel. Then the flames will go in the right direction.”
Will knew where they were now. He lay flat and inched forward, desperate to make no sound. He had to get to Ragwort first and take him by surprise, knock him out quickly. He’d only get one chance. The goblin was so strong, he could fight long enough for Nightshade to start twenty fires. Will reached some cover, a heap of bricks. He stood up and edged cautiously round them. Ragwort was inches away, holding his torch to a patch of dry nettles. Nightshade was further away, still choosing what to set alight. The nettles caught fire. With no more time, Will pounced. He jumped onto Ragwort’s chest, making sure he knocked him unconscious as he hit the ground. Then he ripped his own shirt off and started beating at the flames. But it wasn’t heavy enough. The fabric caught fire, and Will had to drop it, as Nightshade came blazing over, waving his torch.
“You!” he shouted. “You think you can beat me? Look! The fire’s spreading! You’ve lost!”

Nightshade swiped his torch across, trying to burn him. Will jumped back, and grabbed a stick. As Nightshade lunged with the blazing torch, Will parried hard, trying to knock it out of his hands so he could jump on it and trample out the flames. Will dived to his knees as the torch swung across his head. Nightshade was enjoying this, and the fire behind him was rapidly getting bigger. He tried to push the torch into Will’s face, but Will spun round then dodged behind him, grabbing his arms and pinning them to his sides. Then he sighed with relief, Ace was here, and Phil and Dan weren’t far behind him. Ace stopped to kick Ragwort, grinned at Will, and took the torch out of Nightshade’s hand.
“Shouldn’t play with fire, Nightshade. Very naughty. I’ll just hold that for you. The airforce will be here in a moment…”
There was a noise like a rocket as two dark streaks plummeted out of the sky, skimming the ground and pouring water on the fire as they flew. The fire hissed and went out, and the fairies did a victory roll. Ace shoved Nightshade’s torch into a puddle, where it fizzled and died.
“Nice work, airforce!” shouted Ace to the sky. “Get Madge, will you?” and he heard them whistle in reply, and zoom off.

Will was still holding Nightshade’s arms so he couldn’t move. Ace tugged at Nightshade’s cloak and pulled it off, then ripped it up and shrivelled the pieces into ropes. Some he tossed to Dan and Phil, who were standing over Ragwort.
“Tie him up, will you? We’ll have to take them with us. They can’t be trusted not to try again.”
He did the same to Nightshade, then tied them back to back, so they could walk but not run.
“Stand there, you worm-brains,” said Ace, and walked back to Will, who hadn’t moved. Everything had happened so fast, he was stunned, shivering with reaction and trying to breathe.
“You OK? You’re not burned, are you?”
Will made an effort, and shook his head.
“I lost it, Ace. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move. It was Dan who thought what to do.”
Ace looked at him. “That’s not a problem. So Dan can think fast - great, that’s why there were two of you. It wasn’t Dan who got here so fast, and beat the pair of them, so get a grip, you were brilliant.”
Will tried to smile.
“Come on,” said Ace, “you must be freezing. Let’s get home. Lead on, will you, Phil? Follow him, you scum, and try anything and I’ll break your legs.”
Nightshade looked at Ace and Will, standing side by side, and just glared at them, his face twisted with hatred. They ignored him, and wandered along behind.
“Ace,” said Will, “what on earth are you wearing?”
“These? These are my new pyjamas. Cool, aren’t they?”
“Cool? You look like Laura’s Barbie doll.”
Their voices died away. Silence fell. Then came a small crunching sound, as the snail finally made it to the patch of gravel. It sniffed the air, and realised the fire was out. So there was no hurry now. No need to rush anymore. With a doleful sigh, as if it was very sorry for itself, it shuffled slowly off across Wildside.


Ace opened the door of the shed, and felt around for the panel that worked Clover’s lights. He held his palm to it, but nothing happened.
“Flipping fairy lights,” he said. “Never work when you want them to. Have you got a candle, Phil?”
Phil lit a candle, and Ace shoved Nightshade and Ragwort into the room and told them to sit on the floor. He stood over them, his face deadly serious. Will sank onto a stool, and Phil sat down next to the chrysalis. They were waiting for Madge. Dan held the door for her, and Rose and Clover, who’d been to get dressed, followed her in. Dan closed the door and leaned against it, her arms folded. Rose and Clover stood behind Madge like an escort, while Ace explained his problem.

When he’d finished, Madge looked down at Nightshade and Ragwort.
“Yes, I certainly think you’re justified in keeping them prisoner until the humans have been to look at the tree. It won’t be that long, less than twelve hours. Blindfold them, and tie their hands in front of them. Put them in a locked room, with chairs to sit on and water to drink. They’ll be all right. As you say, they can’t be trusted.”
Madge’s opinion counted for a lot. They knew she knew how things should be done, and everyone appreciated the way she told them things without taking over.
“I’ll go and make a room at the back of the shed here,” said Phil, “then we won’t have to look at their ugly faces.”
“Good idea, Phil…ugly faces! Where’s Hogweed?”
Phil paused. There was a nasty silence. Then Nightshade spoke, the first words he’d said since Will had beaten him.
“You’ll never see him again.”
Disgusted, everyone turned their faces away from him. They all thought he meant he’d killed him. Phil jumped over the guitars and went out of the back door. Dan went with him, and in a few minutes the cell was ready. They marched Nightshade and Ragwort inside and locked the door.

“It could be a trick,” said Madge. “He could be standing by to try something else.”
“I wonder,” said Ace bleakly. “We’ll have to find out.”
Will yawned and stretched, and ran his hands through his hair, trying to wake himself up. Then he gasped, and everyone saw what had happened. His hair had come away in his hands. The flames had singed it nearly through, and as soon as he touched it, it fell away. It barely reached his shoulders.
“Whatever next?” he said. He shook his head. “That feels weird! Still, never mind that now. Hadn’t we better go and look for Hogweed?”
“No,” said Madge unexpectedly. “Go to sleep, Will, you’ve done enough. Clover, Rose and I will fly over there and try to read the signs. There’ll be clues, you know, and we may be able to work out what’s happened.”
“I see,” said Ace slowly. “Detection. That something fairies in the army do a lot of, is it?”
“You’re very quick, Ace,” said Madge. “Yes, it is. Come on, you two. An excellent training opportunity.”
Clover groaned. She’d been looking forward to going back to bed. Rose kicked her, and glanced towards Dan.
“Oh, yes,” she muttered. Then, more loudly, she said,” ’Course we’ll come, Madge. We wouldn’t leave you to do a difficult, dangerous thing like that on your own.”
“Don’t overdo it, clot,” whispered Rose.
When they’d gone, Dan said she was going back on guard, just in case it was a trick and Hogweed was up to something.
“No, you don’t, Will,” said Phil. “You heard what Madge said. You’ve done enough, I’ll go. Don’t be so stubborn! Just go to bed.”
Will’s face cracked into a smile. “Stubborn, me? All right then. Thanks, Phil.”
Dan and Phil went up the tree to keep watch, and Will went next door to his bed. Ace went too, to get some clothes, but he didn’t stay. He wanted to eavesdrop on Nightshade and Ragwort. He was getting very worried about where they were getting their information from.


The fairies didn’t bother with the chip-fork causeway, they just flew straight to the goblins’ front door.
“What if Hogweed’s standing behind the door with an axe?” whispered Clover.
“Fly away again, of course,” said Madge shortly. She was feeling nervous enough without remarks like that.
“Yes, ’cos then we’d know he wasn’t dead,” explained Rose.
Clover just looked at her, and followed Madge into the long dark passageway. The big hall was still dimly lit. It seemed to be the main room, so they walked cautiously in.
“Have a good look round, what can you see?”
“Sally’s new book, that went missing from her garden the other day.”
“Well, we know they steal things,” said Rose. “That’s nothing new.”
“Look at the fire,” said Madge, pointing to something sticking out of the brazier.
“What is it? The handle of something?”
“I think it’s all that’s left of a torch,” said Madge. “What do you think that means?”
“Someone forgot his torch…no, Hogweed didn’t take a torch!” said Clover.
“Right. But he was supposed to. There were three. And look at the floor.”
Rose and Clover got down on their hands and knees.
“Ugh, it’s all dusty,” said Rose.
“Ah, yes, but look at all the footmarks,” Clover pointed out. “Their feet slid around - they were pushing one another. And what’s this big splodge, and this trickle of slime - look, it goes all the way to the door!”
“Well done,” said Madge. “It looks pretty bad for Hogweed. I hope we can help him. I think he refused to go - maybe even tried to stop the other two - and one of them transformed him into a slug, or a snail.”
“Oh, poor Hogweed!” said Rose. “Come on then, we need to follow the slime trail!”
“We’ll never see it in the dark!” said Clover.
“We’ll manage,” Madge told her. “We’ll make a light, the slime will gleam in the smallest amount of light.”

Madge made a rather feeble light out of a bit of glass and a bit of firelight, and held it over the slime. They followed the trail across the mud, to the gravel patch, then lost it in the long grass.
“OK, this is going to take a long time,” said Madge. “One of you fly back and tell the others to go to bed, Hogweed won’t be causing any trouble tonight.”
“I’ll go,” said Clover.
Madge and Rose continued searching, calling Hogweed’s name softly now and then. In a while, Clover came back, and Ace with her, anxious to help. They didn’t give up, but they couldn’t find the trail. Then, as the dew fell, there were too many trails. Every slug and snail on Wildside was coming out into the wet. Suddenly there were dozens of them.
“Which one is he?” cried Clover. “This is hopeless!”
“No, it’s not!” said Rose. “Look!”
A huge, ugly snail with a sad face and a blotchy shell was crawling towards them as fast as it could go.
“That’s the one!” said Ace. “No question. It even looks like him.”
He ran over to the snail and crouched down on a level with it. He put a hand on its slimy skin, and said,
“Thank goodness you’re alive. Come on, Hogweed, you’re coming home.”

The fairies gathered round him and patted his shell, then flew ahead. By the time Ace and Hogweed arrived at the shed, everyone was there to meet them. Ace slipped in quietly, and let Hogweed come in alone, to be stunned by the storm of applause that greeted him. Two large tears trickled down his face.
“Hogweed,” said Madge, “we must get you back to normal. Though I don’t know how. What do you think yourself? Could any of us manage it?”
Hogweed went straight to Dan, and looked pleadingly at her. Dan’s heart was pounding. This was awful. What if it all went wrong?
“Of course I’ll try, Hogweed, if you want me to, but you know I’ve never done it before?”
Hogweed nodded his snail head up and down.
“I think he’s trying to say it doesn’t matter,” said Will. “He probably thinks anything’s better than staying a snail.”
“What about Ragwort?” said Dan. “He’s a real goblin. He wouldn’t leave you like this. D’you want him to try?”
Hogweed shook his head.
“Come on, let’s wait outside,” said Will. “Good luck, Dan.”

Alone with Hogweed, Dan summoned up everything she knew about him, and found it was a lot. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, the snail’s blotchy shell turned back into Hogweed’s blotchy skin, and the rest of him followed. When the others heard Hogweed’s cry of relief, they burst back in. Will went straight to Dan and caught her before she collapsed. He knew how hard it was. Hogweed was looking at his arms, his legs, even tried to look at his back. Ace ran next door and brought his mirror so Hogweed could see his face.
“Ha!” he laughed. “You’ve made me handsome! I’m not ugly any more! Ha! Thank you, little Dan, thank you!”
“He looks exactly the same,” said Ace out of the side of his mouth.
“I know,” said Will in the same way. “Weird.”
Everyone shook hands with Hogweed and told him how brave he’d been, and how glad they were to have him on their side.
“I’m glad you’ll have me,” answered Hogweed simply.
Madge sank wearily onto a stool.
“Where’s Rose gone?” she asked.
“To put the kettle on,” Clover told her, and Madge smiled, happily.


Later that morning, everyone was by the brook, out of sight, to hear what the woman from the Council had to say about the horse chestnut.
“Hogweed,” said Phil, “how did Nightshade know it was today? He must have known, to pick last night for his attack.”
“I dunno, Phil,” frowned Hogweed. “Never told me. He’d go off on his own a lot, though. Perhaps he just overheard summat.”
“We’ve been very careful lately,” said Ace. “I don’t see how he could…hey, she’s here!”

With Sally was an older woman in a sensible suit. She carried a bulging old briefcase, and she was looking very impressed by the horse chestnut already.
“Well, there it is, Mrs. Butterworth,” said Sally. “That’s the tree I wrote to you about.”
“Oh, dear me, yes, magnificent. Must be two hundred years old, I should think. Now then, where are my binoculars?”
She rummaged in her briefcase.
“Oh yes, splendid condition, by the look of it. Really, I don’t know when I’ve seen a finer tree. Let’s have a look close up.”
She and Sally walked under the horse chestnut. While Mrs. Butterworth looked closely at the bark for signs of disease, Sally looked around her. All the litter had gone, branches repaired, Clover’s front door mended. All signs of the sprites had been cleared away.
“Now I’ve never seen a tree next to a brook, in a place like this, that didn’t have a rope swing on it,” Mrs. Butterworth was saying. “A horse chestnut very often has broken branches too, where children have pulled at them going for conkers. The children round here obviously appreciate the environment.”
“Oh, I think they do,” said Sally. “They love this place, and everything that lives on it.”
“Isn’t this the site that was in the paper the other week? Something about a protester sitting in a tree? Was this the tree?”
“No,” said Sally, “it wasn’t. It was a sycamore, and the landowner succeeded in having it cut down.”
“A sycamore! Why choose that one, rather than this? Sycamores are just weeds, really.”
They came out from under the curtain, and Mrs. Butterworth looked out across Wildside.
“Rather a lovely place. It would be a shame to build on this, but you know I can’t affect the planning decision. However, I shall definitely be placing a preservation order on this tree. Very important visual amenity. And I think,” she added, “that I ought to contact the Greater Manchester Countryside Unit about this place. I have a feeling that these flowers are a protected species. They could insist that the site is of biological importance. Now that really could affect the planning decision.”
“That would be wonderful,” said Sally.
“I’ll write to them today,” Mrs. Butterworth promised. “But you can set your mind at rest about the preservation order. This tree is safe.”
Mrs. Butterworth shook hands with Sally and went off to her car.

Sally didn’t feel a bit glad. She knew she ought to be glad, they’d saved the horse chestnut, but all she could think about was how much Mrs. Butterworth’s tactless remarks would have hurt Ace.
As soon as Mrs. Butterworth was out of sight, she joined the others, and she could tell straight away by their faces that they all felt just the same. She sat down with them on the bank. Ace wasn’t there.
“What happened?” she asked. “What did he say?”
“Not much,” said Will. “Just swore a bit, and jumped off down the brook.”
Rowan was crying. “I though he was getting over it,” she sobbed. “But he isn’t, is he?”
“What, already?” said Will. “Not a chance. But look, cheer up! That other stuff she said sounded really hopeful. Good if all that hard work paid off. He didn’t hear that bit. That’ll help. I’ll go and tell him, he’s not gone far. Listen, we’ll celebrate tonight.”
“Yes, we want to celebrate that Hogweed’s joined us, as well as saving the horse chestnut,” said Dan.
“Dead right,” said Will. “We’ll have a concert, a really loud one!”
“Loud?” said Madge.
“Don’t worry, Madge,” said Will. “You can come, can’t you, David?”
“You bet.”
“Well then, it’s OK. If any humans see David, and hear loud music, their first thought is not going to be, ‘Oh, some sprites are having a concert’.”
“I suppose not,” sighed Madge. “Go on, then. But let’s have some flute music in the middle, to give my ears a rest.”


After Will had gone, everyone split up. The children promised to come back in the evening, but Sally said she thought she’d better not. Her husband might think it rather odd. Madge, Dan, Phil and Hogweed went to release the prisoners, who spat at Hogweed before marching stiffly away. Hogweed wasn’t bothered. He took a great fancy to the room they’d vacated, though, and bagged it for a new home. The others helped him make it look nice and gobliny, with scrunched-up paper for a sleeping nest, and lots of colourful rubbish.

Rose and Clover went to see Cory. They found him sitting by his window, as usual, reading.
“So what happened?” he asked. “Is the horse chestnut safe?”
“Yes, it is,” sighed Clover, sitting down on a stool. “There’s going to be a preservation order. But the woman who came upset Ace, making remarks about sycamores.”
Cory tutted, sadly. “People don’t value sycamores. Too common, I suppose.”
“We had an exciting night, too,” Rose told him. “The goblins tried to start a fire, and Will stopped them, and Nightshade turned Hogweed into a snail, and Will’s hair burnt off!”
Cory looked startled at all this.
“Honestly, Rose, you can’t tell a story,” said Clover. Patiently, she filled in the gaps. When she’d finished, Cory was quiet for a long time. Finally he spoke.
“I never thought he would go as far as that! He could have burnt us all in our beds. Will saved our lives. And Hogweed’s finally plucked up courage to leave them, has he? Hmm. Listen, my dears, will you ask Ace to come and see me? Today. It’s very important.”
“OK,” said Clover. “We’ll go and see if he’s back. See you tomorrow.”

The fairies flew over to the shed, and found Ace and Will sitting outside on the ground. Ace was trying to do something about Will’s hair.
“It won’t work!” he was saying. “Why won’t it work? If you can change the colour, why can’t you make it grow?”
“It must!” said Will. “I can’t do a concert with short hair, I’ll look ridiculous. Shut up laughing, Clover, why won’t it work?”
“I think you’d need to do each hair individually,” said Rose hesitantly. “You don’t with colour, you can do it all at once.”
“Individually?” said Ace, aghast. “That’s impossible!”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is,” said Madge, joining them. “I’m sorry, Will, but you’re going to have to have it trimmed, and let it grow again naturally.”
“That’s the price you pay for being a hero,” Clover said, and gave him a kiss. “You saved all our lives, Cory said so. He wants to see you, Ace. He said it’s important.”
“Huh? Oh, OK, I’ll go and see him.” He looked at Will. “Be brave, now. I promise not to laugh. Much.”
He jumped off, and Madge turned to Rose.
“Have you got a sharp pair of scissors?”


Ace went quietly into Cory’s house. At first he thought Cory was asleep, but he opened his eyes, and smiled.
“You’ve grown,” he said.
“Well, it hurts,” said Ace.
Cory nodded. “Clover tells me a lot of things,” he said. “She’s very kind. She told me a funny story about a man called Cyril. Made a good story of it, how Dan tried to save Will from getting in trouble. There was nothing that struck her as odd, though.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” said Ace. “He could have been anyone. But Cyril had spoken of Mal before, to Will and me. He told us you were twins. Why did you never tell us?”
Cory’s old eyes glistened. “You were too young. You wouldn’t have understood.”
“Why not? What happened to him?”
“He died,” said Cory. “And it was my fault.”
Ace drew his head back, and stared.
“That’s…that’s awful.”
“Too awful to talk about. All my life I’ve lived with that pain. I couldn’t share it with two giddy, irresponsible youngsters, just because they happened to be twins too.”
“No…no, I see that,” Ace faltered.
“But now you know what pain feels like. And how hard it’s been for me, watching you two grow up, and missing Mal so much. But I have a feeling that my pain will not last much longer.”
He smiled calmly.
“When the time comes, be glad for me. But for now, we have someone else to think of. Hogweed. Goblins are very simple, Ace. Strong and simple. Easily pleased. Easily led. They need, above all things, structure. They need to know who their boss is, who to give their loyalty to. Hogweed has wrenched himself out of his loyalty, a tremendous feat for a goblin. What he needs now, more than anything, is a new leader. Before the day is out, Ace, Hogweed will come to you, and ask you to take his loyalty. And you must accept.”
“What!” Ace shouted. “I’m twenty-six! I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. You be his leader! You’re the senior sprite, aren’t you?”
“Age has nothing to do with it,” said Cory. “You’re a born leader. And I’m not the senior sprite any more. You are.”
Ace felt his heart sinking as Cory’s trembling hands took the grey stone on its leather thong from his neck.
“Come here,” said Cory kindly.
Feeling a complete idiot, Ace knelt down so Cory could reach to put the stone round his neck. It felt heavy, but Ace had to admit, it didn’t feel wrong.
Sheepishly, he got to his feet.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
“You’ll grace it better than I ever did,” said Cory, his eyes lingering on the stone. “It’s very old, that stone, Ace. Passed down through generations, before the farm even, when all this place was Moseley Wood. That will help you, when you get to Norway.”
“How did you know I was even thinking of it?”
“You’ve been called, haven’t you?” smiled Cory.
Ace couldn’t deny it.
“I’m not going without Will.”
Cory closed his eyes and shuddered, as if he could already see desolation.
“You won’t have to,” he said.


Ace walked back slowly to give himself time to think. He was dreading seeing Hogweed, but even more he was dreading seeing Will’s face when he saw the stone.
He won’t say anything, Ace thought. If he’s miffed, I’ll get about two seconds to see it in his eyes before he hides it. Oh, I hope he doesn’t mind. He’s bound to mind! I’d mind, if it was him. A bit, anyway. Oh help, this is awful. Let’s get it over and done with.

As he got back near the shed, he could hear the drums and bass tuning up for a practice, so he took a deep breath and walked in, straight up to Will. He didn’t look at his hair, he just watched his eyes. Will saw the stone at once, and realised all that it meant, both good and bad, but his eyes didn’t shadow at all. He just laughed, put his guitar down, and hugged Ace.
“Look at you!” he said delightedly. “You know what this means, don’t you? You can pull rank on Madge, now!”
Ace clouted him on the head affectionately.
“You loony,” he said. “You look like a magpie. Where’s Hogweed?”
“Behind here. Moving into the cell!”
“Really? Let’s have a look.”
Interested, Ace slipped out of the back door and found Hogweed alone in his new quarters. As they faced each other, and what had to be done, it all happened so easily and so naturally that they both felt startled and reassured. Ace clapped him on the shoulder, gave him a smile, and went to join the rest of the band.

Phil and Dan congratulated him, but they didn’t seem a bit surprised. Ace thought about that as he tuned his guitar.
Everyone seems to think it’s perfectly natural. Even Will. Maybe it’s not so strange…there’s loads of things he’s better at than I am…and he’s got confidence in himself, he knows that. He can let me do the things I’m good at. I don’t know, though…this is very formal. We’re twins, we have to be equal. Oh, I hope he won’t let it make any difference…
He looked across at Will, and their eyes met. Will saw the worry, and knew exactly what he was thinking. He grinned.
“Come on, Ace,” he said. “Get a move on.”
Ace’s spirits soared, for the first time since his tree had said goodbye.
Acer, fly high, don’t look down. Words he’d never forget.
He tossed his guitar into the air, caught it effortlessly, and jumped to his place in front of the microphone.
“What’re we doing, Dan?”
“Aces High.”
“Beautiful,” said Ace. “I think they wrote that song for me.”
“So do we, Ace,” said Will. “Go for it.”