WILDSIDE

CHAPTER 9 - Ace's Battle

Next morning, all the families on Cherrytree Close were amazed when all the children, and even David, got up early again for the second day running. Only Sally got the full story. She’d heard yesterday that Rowan had seen the sprites too. Now the girls were filling her in on the latest news.
“And when he came back, d’you know what, Mum, Ace was as big as Dad!”
“Really? I didn’t know they could do that! Well, I hope he saves his tree. He must be very worried. Help him all you can, but stay away from any machinery!”
“We will,” said Laura. “Come on, Rowan, hurry up!”
The girls rushed outside. The rest of the sprites were already there, and the other children soon joined them. Everyone wanted to see what would happen.

Ace had been in his tree all night, and now he was standing in the saddle, where the trunk split up into two great boughs, each soaring upwards. He had a hand on each bough, his head was high, his long blond hair streaming in the morning breeze. He was ready.
“He looks good, doesn’t he?” said Clover.
“Amazing,” Will agreed. “I can look at him, now. It felt really strange at first.”
“I should think it did,” said Phil quietly. “Some things take a lot of getting used to.”

A truck pulled up on the main road, just next to the gap in the fence, and two men got out. The driver, whose name was Richard, was already wearing a hard orange hat. He walked onto Wildside without even looking at it, leafing through a sheaf of papers he’d pulled from his back pocket. The other man was younger and taller. His name was Darren, and he stood by the cab, trying to ram his orange hat down over his bushy hair.
“This is it,” shouted the one called Richard. “Site of Bill Pearce’s. Got to take down a sycamore that’s blocking vehicle access.”
“We might have a bit of a problem there,” said Darren glumly as he wandered over. “There’s a bloke in the tree.”
“Crikey, you’re right! A nutter, probably. Look at that stupid paint he’s got smeared over his skin.”
It was as well Ace didn’t hear this. He thought his streaks looked really good.
“Oi, you up there! Get down, will you?”
“Never !” shouted Ace. “Go away! Tree murderers! You’ll never get me down! You’ll never get this tree!”
“Oh, wonderful. It’s one of those eco-nutters, like at the airport when they were building Runway 2.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Better phone Bill Pearce first, I suppose.”

Richard pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket.
“Bill? Richard here. We’ve got a bit of a problem. That tree you want shifting, there’s one of those eco-nutters in it. He says he won’t come down…no, it’s not a kid…yes, crowds of kids are watching him, but that’s all…no, no mad women with bikes. OK. See you.”
“He’s coming straight over,” Richard told Darren.
“Might as well sit in the cab for a bit,” said Darren. “D’you want a cup of tea?”
Richard shouted up the tree again.
“You can’t stay up there for ever. So you might as well come down now. Come on down, and don’t be daft. Come and have a cup of tea.”
“No thanks,” said Ace coolly. “I’m not thirsty.”

When Bill Pearce arrived, he was fuming. Nothing but trouble and delays on this site. Those kids of Michael Connolly’s were at the bottom of it, he was sure. He slammed his car door shut, and went straight to the tree.
“Get down, now, out of my tree, and get off my land,” he demanded, in a calm but firm voice.
“Your tree?” said Ace. “That’d be funny if it wasn’t pathetic. This tree’s mine, as much as I am its, and if you want to kill it, you’ll have to kill me first.”
Mr. Pearce glared at the children, who were all clapping and cheering.
“Clear off, you lot!”
They moved back a few paces, but they didn’t go far.
“If you won’t come down, we’ll make you. I’m sending for the police.”
Ace just waved his hand, as if to say, ‘Go ahead’, and sat down with his back to a bough, unconcerned.

When one rather small woman police constable arrived, Mr. Pearce wasn’t very impressed. Still, he had enough sense not to say so, and stated his case politely.
“This chap says he won’t come down, he’s trying to stop me cutting down the tree. Now this is my land, I own the tree, there’s no preservation order on it, and I’ve a perfect right to cut it down. So what can we do about it?”
“The first thing is to speak to him,” said PC Smith.
“What’s your name?”
“Ace.”
“Well, Ace, you can’t stay up there. What you’re doing is obstructing the landowner engaging in a lawful activity.”
“Got it in one,” said Ace.
“You’re committing an offence, and I’m directing you to leave this land.”
“No way. Get this into your heads, I’ll stay in this tree forever if it saves its life.”
PC Smith went back to Mr. Pearce.
“I could arrest him for aggravated trespass,” she said, “if I could reach him. As it is, my advice to you is to be patient. He’ll get hungry in a couple of days, that’ll drive him down. We’ll keep an eye on the situation, but my senior officers are unlikely to approve of heavy-handed tactics to get him down. I’ll put in a report about it, anyway.”
With that she left, and Mr. Pearce went right up to the tree.
“Police are too soft with the likes of you,” he growled. “I’ll get you down somehow.”
“You’ll need an army,” said Ace.

Richard and Darren drove off, and Ace and the others cheered. Mr. Pearce ignored them. He was busy with his mobile phone.
“Tom? How many security guards have we got on that town centre site? Well, send one to the Cheadle site, will you? Yes, right now. And arrange for relief, as well. I want a man and a dog here, round the clock.”
By the end of the day, Mr. Pearce had cordoned off the tree with poles and plastic tape, so no-one could get near it to pass anything to Ace. The security man and his alsatian were standing guard to make sure that if he did come down, he couldn’t get back up again. But none of that deterred the sprites.

As soon as it was dark, Rose and Clover flew up to talk to Ace and keep him company, and Will joined them by jumping from way beyond the cordon. Clover had borrowed Madge’s basket and filled it with bottles.
“Here, we brought you loads of drinks,” she said.
“Oh, thanks Clover, I’m gasping,” said Ace. “Pass me one, will you?”
Clover passed him a tiny bottle of orange, and he soon changed it to a more useful size and drank the lot in one go.
“Wow, that’s better,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “How is everyone? What else has been happening?”
“Phil’s not well,” said Rose. “He’s running a temperature after his broken arm yesterday, so Madge and Dan have stayed with him.”
“I should never have left those two on their own against the goblins,” said Ace.
“You didn’t know the goblins would even come,” Clover pointed out. “We were thinly spread, everyone did what they could.”
“How are you, anyway?” said Will. “Is there anything you need?”
“I’m stiff,” said Ace. “I don’t think I’ve ever kept still this long in my whole life. And I’m getting pretty cold. But apart from that I’m all right.”
“Have you still got a sleeping bag on your platform?”
“Yes, but I can’t get up there now. I can still jump, but there’s nothing strong enough to land on, that high.”
“I’ll get it,” said Will, and jumped.
“How are we going to make it big enough, though?” said Clover, when he’d brought it down. “I can’t get my head round things that big, can you, Will?”
“Don’t let him near it, it’s fabric, he’ll ruin it.”
Will grinned. “Madge could do it, no problem.”
“We’ll take it to her!” said Rose and Clover.
Will and Ace just looked at each other, and shook their heads.
“Have another think,” said Ace kindly.
“Oh, yes. Good point,” said Clover after a moment. “How would we carry it back?”
“We’ll go and ask her if she can pop over and do it here,” said Rose.
“Only if Phil’s well enough to be left,” Ace called, as the fairies zoomed off.

Ace and Will sat quietly for a while. It was the first time they’d been alone together all day, and they both felt a bit awkward.
“Thanks for last night,” said Ace, hesitantly. “You OK now?”
“Yes,” said Will. “Sure, it was difficult, but no problem.” He frowned a bit, wishing desperately that it wasn’t so hard to say what you really wanted to. “The only thing that matters is winning this fight. What could happen if we lose doesn’t bear thinking about. I…care about this tree as much as my own…and that’s just because it’s yours.”

Ace understood what he was trying to say, and it warmed his heart. That had been a big effort, he knew that.
“Nice,” he said. “Oh, Will, d’you think we’ll win? When I think about that dream I had, I just go cold with fear.”
“You bet we’ll win,” said Will staunchly. “That dream was just a warning of what might happen.”
“Let’s hope so. Makes you think what Phil must have gone through, doesn’t it?”
“I know, it’s no wonder he’s ill, this must have really brought it all back.”
“Look after him. He’s a lot braver than he thinks he is. He hides his pain too well.”

When Madge landed, she scanned their faces carefully, and was satisfied with what she saw.
“How’s Phil?” said Ace.
“Not too good,” she told him. “It’s not really just his arm.”
“No,” said Ace. “We were just talking about that. But the subject isn’t going to go away, is it? What can we do?”
“He’s got to face it, and cope with it, not bury it,” said Madge as she worked. “Leave it to me, Ace, and to Will. You’ve got enough to worry about.”
In an instant, padded nylon expanded all over the branch they were sitting on. Will was flattened, but Ace knew where he was.
“Keep still! I don’t want to knock you off into that dog’s jaws!”
“I’m off,” said Madge. “Listen, Ace, it’s not easy sleeping in a tree when you’re that big. I know, I’ve tried it. Wedge yourself in so you don’t fall out when you’re asleep.”
She flew away, and Ace sighed.
“You’d better go too, Will,” he said sadly.
“Why? Don’t you want me to stay with you?”
“Oh yes. More than anything. But we have to think of the others…Cory so frail, and the fairies…we can’t both stay here, so far away from them, at night. What if something happened?”
“Oh, I see. I have to be you, while you’re doing this. Hmm, well, if anything happens, I hope it’s something where it’s obvious what to do.”
“If in doubt, punch it on the nose,” said Ace. “You’ve got a beautiful right hook.”
Will laughed. “Come on, then. Get in your sleeping bag, and I’ll see if I can wedge you in.”
It wasn’t easy, but they managed it in the end.
“I’m getting warm now,” said Ace. “ ’S’good.”
“Try and get to sleep,” said Will. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, goodnight.”


Very early next morning, Mr. Pearce went to call on Michael Connolly.
“What’s going on? Who is this nutter, Michael? Do you know him?”
“Never seen him before! I don’t know where he turned up from. The kids call him Ace, but they always give themselves daft names, these people, don’t they?”
“I don’t know. It’s unbelievable. I mean, a scruffy tree on a scruffy patch of waste ground, it’s hardly a National Park, is it? Anyway, I know it’s not just your kids egging him on, but I’d be glad if you could get yours to back off.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Mr. Connolly, diplomatically.

As soon as he’d gone, Dominic and Tony, who’d been listening, came hurtling down the stairs.
“Dad!” they shouted. “Why didn’t you tell him to leave Ace alone?”
“I’m not taking sides,” he said. “What concerns me, what really bothers me, is that I've got to do a re-wiring job today for a woman with about twenty-five cats. And I hate cats. Oh, how I hate cats. Just keep off the field until Bill Pearce has gone, OK? Then you can do what you like."
“OK, Dad,” said Dominic. “Thanks.”

Mr. Pearce marched round from number eight to have a word with his security guard.
“Morning, er, Patrick, isn’t it? What time did you come on?”
“Six o’clock, Mr. Pearce. Geoff went off then. He’d been here all night.”
“Oh, he was called Geoff, was he?” said Ace. “Well, you can tell him from me that he snores. I could hardly sleep for the noise.”
“He’s lying, Mr. Pearce,” said Patrick quickly. “I’m sure Geoff was awake all night.”
“Was he? Then how come this chap’s so flipping perky? Someone must have brought him food, or else he’s been down!”
“No way,” said Ace.
There was a branch growing out horizontally from one of the boughs, and Ace was lying along it, temptingly close.
“You might as well give up now. Who needs food? Not me.”
Mr. Pearce suddenly jumped, and tried to grab Ace by his shirt, to pull him down. But Ace was too quick for him. His hand clutched at thin air. Ace was already standing two branches higher.
“Missed me! What’s the matter, haven’t you had your breakfast?”
“I’ll swing for this one, I really will,” muttered Mr. Pearce. “Pass me some stones, will you?”
Patrick passed stones to Mr. Pearce, who started throwing them with a very good aim. He was aiming at Ace’s feet and legs, trying to make him lose his balance so he’d fall out of the tree.
“Go ahead, I need some exercise,” he called, nimbly jumping out of the way every time a stone came near him.
“Ace! Can you hear me?” whispered Clover. She and Rose had managed to fly up without being seen. “Don’t retaliate! Leave it to us!”
A few moments later, Ace stood with his hands open to prove he wasn’t doing anything, as dozens of twigs came whizzing through the air at the men’s faces. Rose was a very good shot.
“What the…” spluttered Mr. Pearce. “Who’s throwing all that stuff?”
“Maybe it’s the tree,” smiled Ace.


As soon as Mr. Pearce had gone, Clover sat down to talk to Ace.
“All I ever wanted was a quiet life. And look at me!” she moaned. “On the go from dawn till dusk. I’ve got Madge shooing me out of bed at dawn to do formation flying exercises, then helping you, now I’ve got to go and see Cory, then I must meet Rose to work on flower transforming, it’s killing me!”
“You know you love it really,” laughed Ace.
He rolled over and waved at the security guard.
“Hello, Patrick! Has he gone? Put your feet up, why don’t you? I’m not going anywhere.”
“What did he say?” asked Clover.
“Something unprintable, I think,” said Ace. “Listen, Clover, I know you’re busy, but will you do me a favour?”
“Go on then. What is it?”
“See if David can lend me something to read. It’ll pass the time. Not GCSE Physics. Something exciting.”
“That reminds me, Will said to tell you he’d see you tonight. Phil’s better, but Madge said he wasn’t to go jumping about and getting over-excited, so Will’s got him in the shed, making something.”
“Good scheme. That’ll take his mind off it a bit.”
“Off what?” said Clover. “What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain,” said Ace. “It’s just that, well, he’s already lost his tree, hasn’t he? And all this is bringing it all back to him. I know it must seem strange to you, because you’re used to your plants coming and going with the seasons. But a tree…your own tree…it’s no use, I can’t explain it, but…it matters. It matters more than anything.”
She saw his eyes getting wild again with worry, and tried to say something helpful.
“Thanks, Ace. I think I do begin to see. I’ll go and find David. D’you know what, your hair looks absolutely beautiful.”
She flew off, well-pleased to see he was smiling again, and in a while David strolled over, with some magazines tightly rolled up so they’d be easy to throw.
“Hi, Ace!” shouted David. “Catch!”
He skimmed them through the air before Patrick could stop him, and ran off laughing. Ace caught them easily and unrolled them. Rock Sound, Kerrang! and Metal Hammer. Brilliant. With a sigh of deep content, Ace settled back in the saddle of the tree, with his knees up, and started to read.


People walking past Wildside were stopping to look at the strange sight of the guarded, cordoned-off tree, and Rowan and Dominic lost no time in taking the petition out onto the grass verge again. They got a lot of signatures. Lots of people waved to Ace, and gave him thumbs-ups, which was cheering. But at two o’clock, Patrick was relieved by another guard. This one was called Jason, and he was very alert. He kept everyone away, and Ace got very lonely. At dusk, he was just sitting quietly, thinking, when he heard a muffled thud and a scraping noise.
“You OK, Will?”
“Grab the box, will you? I can’t hold it and pull myself up.”
Ace saw what he meant, and held the box while Will swung himself properly onto the branch.
“What is it?”
“Acoustic guitar. So you don’t get out of practice!”
“Wow, it’s beautiful. This what you and Phil have been doing?”
“Try and expand it, go on.”
Ace looked at it, consideringly.
“D’you know, I think I could. None of us have ever been able to do big stuff, have we, but once you are big, somehow it’s easier to imagine the size.”
“I wondered if it might be. Try it. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t matter.”
Ace held the guitar lovingly, and imagined it growing to the right size for him to play. It happened so smoothly and quickly he could hardly believe his eyes.
“Yes!” said Will. “I knew you could do it. Well, you’ve got no excuse now. Just you keep in practice.”
“Thanks, Will, this is brilliant. I won’t get bored now. How’s Phil?”
“A lot better, but Madge bullied him into having an early night. And Dan’s had a blazing row with Hogweed, about the other day. Told him he was an ungrateful, small-minded moron who couldn’t think for himself.”
Ace laughed. “That really is his problem. He’d be decent enough if he didn’t let Nightshade do his thinking for him. What about Nightshade, though? Did you get a good look at him the other day? What d’you reckon?”
“Oh yes, definitely. Once you know, you can’t miss it. He’s an elf, all right.”
“Sick. What a disgrace. When this is all over, Will, we’ll have to sort him, once and for all.”
“Dead right.”


One morning Laura came tearing across Wildside to find the sprites. It was hard for them to get near Ace in the daytime, especially when Jason was on duty. He took his job very seriously, and prowled around constantly. But Laura loved taking messages, and that morning it was a good job she did. She found them all by the brook, passing buckets for Rose, who wanted to fill her water tank.
“Hello, Laura!” called Clover. “How is he today?”
“He’s very excited,” said Laura. “You know that woman with the bike who was nice? She’s just been to tell him that a reporter and a photographer are coming to see him. He’s going to be in the local paper!”
“What!” shrieked Madge, and fell in the brook.
Trying not to laugh, Rose and Clover hauled her out. Madge shook her wings and wiped her face.
“This is dreadful!” she spluttered. “Can we stop them?”
“Why d’you want to?” asked Phil. “It’s good publicity, isn’t it?”
“Good? We’ll all be sent to prison! Have none of you any idea of the penalties for allowing yourself to be photographed? Or allowing it to happen when you could have stopped it? Well don’t ask, it would scare you too much.”
“But no-one will know he’s a sprite!” exclaimed Clover. “He’s far too big!”
“If anyone sees the picture, Clover, they won’t have much problem guessing when they see his streaks, will they?” said Madge. “Laura, be quick, this is really important. Tell him to roll his sleeves down and pull his hair forward to cover his neck.”
Laura nodded and tore off.
“What about his face?” said Will.
“I know,” said Madge. “What can he do? Make-up?”
“I know he fancies himself,” said Will, “but even Ace doesn’t wear make-up. Where on earth d’you expect him to find any of that?”
Madge glared at him. “I’m thinking out loud,” she said.
“David’s mum wears make-up,” said Rose. “Shall I go and ask him to borrow some?”
“Brilliant,” said Madge. “As quick as you like.”
Laura came panting back.
“He doesn’t want to!” she gasped. “I don’t think he understood. I couldn’t explain properly with Jason listening.”
“Give me strength!” sighed Madge. “Here comes David. Why isn’t he running to his house?”
David and Dominic had been doing the petition, and both of them came running over.
“What sort of make-up?” said David. “What does it look like?”
“Here’s a car!” said Laura. “They’re here!”
Madge sank wearily to the ground. “We’re sunk,” she said.
“No, we’re not,” said Dan fiercely. “There’s just time. Forget the make-up. Use mud. Clover, pass me that bucket, please.”
Dan quickly scooped soil into a bit of water, and mixed it up.
“There!” she said. “David, you and Dominic go and distract Jason a minute, so Will can jump into the tree and plaster mud on Ace’s face before the photograph.”
Everyone stood amazed for a moment at Dan’s calm authority, then suddenly rushed into action.
“As simple as that,” said Madge, when they’d gone. “Well done, Dan. Ace isn’t the only one who’s good in emergencies.”
When the paper came out the following week, everyone was desperate to see if the disguise had worked. It was a free paper, and Dominic knew the boy who delivered them, so he got hold of a bundle of copies.
“It’s all right,” he said. “All you can see is mud. He looks like a real eco-warrior.”


After the paper came out, Ace became quite famous, and lots of people came onto Wildside to say hello, or shout encouraging things. The petition was getting nice and thick now. And still Ace didn’t come down. Mr. Pearce was beside himself. He kept coming to shout at the security guards, but it was no use.
“He doesn’t eat, Mr. Pearce,” Patrick told him. “He just sits there playing his guitar, or jumps about a bit, or talks to these kids when they go past. I’ll swear he’s not been down.”
“The police are useless,” said Mr. Pearce. “You’d have thought they could have found a way to get him down by now. This tree’s holding everything up. The architect’s nearly finished, but he needs the results of the soil survey, and we can’t do that until we shift this tree!”
Mr. Pearce swung a kick at the tree in frustration.
“There’s other things we can try if you’re in that much of a hurry,” said Patrick nastily.
“What do you mean?” said Mr. Pearce.
“Come over here,” said Patrick. “Where he can’t hear us.”


That afternoon it started to rain, which pleased Patrick very much. He thought Ace had had it far too easy with the weather. When he handed over to Geoff at two o’clock, he muttered something to Geoff that made him snigger. They both looked at Ace and laughed.
Ace ignored them. He just stood leaning against a bough, with his jacket over his head. But the rain didn’t stop Will, and it didn’t stop another friend Ace had made.

“Hello, Ace, lad! How are you today?” came a voice from ground level.
“Oh flip, it’s Cyril! Hide, quick! - Hello, Cyril! Just on your way home from the pub?”
“Ace, move up, I can’t breathe,” hissed Will. “Who is he, anyway?”
Still smiling and waving, Ace tried to speak without moving his lips.
“He’s been every day. Likes to talk. Used to work here years ago. When it was a farm.”
“Who are you talking to?” called Cyril.
“Oh, no-one,” called Ace. “No-one important, anyway,” he added quietly. “Ow!”
“Oh, I thought it might have been a sprite,” said Cyril, swaying a little.
Will stopped messing about and froze.
“What did you say?” said Ace.
“I said I thought you were talking to a sprite,” said Cyril. “Haven’t seen one for years. Nice little chaps.”
“Say something, you idiot!” said Will urgently. “Don’t sit there with your mouth open!”
“Can you suggest something? Something that Madge won’t kill us for?”
“Ask him who it was!”
“Oh, er, right, Cyril, that must have been nice. What was his name?”
“There was two of ’em. Used to come and talk to me when I was picking the fruit. Good times,” he said sadly, shaking his head. “Said they were twins, but they didn’t look a bit alike. One was called Mal, and the other one was called Cory.”
“Huh?” said Ace. “Oh right, lovely. And that was a long time ago, was it?”
“Oh, gracious, yes. I were only a slip of a lad. Just before the war, when I first met them. Look at you, in your daft uniform,” he said to Geoff. “I bet you don’t know owt about being a soldier. Just pestering a poor wet lad that wants to save a tree.”
“That’s enough of that,” said Geoff. “Come on now, move along. Time you were going home.”
“Aye, I suppose it is. Goodbye, lad. See you tomorrow.”

When Ace turned round, Will had his head in his hands.
“You were seen then!” said Ace, laughing.
“I know,” Will groaned. “Madge is right, we’re getting careless.”
“Never mind that now, anyway. What’s all this about Cory? I never knew he had a twin!”
“Neither did I,” said Will, frowning, “which is strange, don’t you think? You’d think he would have mentioned it to us.”
“You would. But he must be dead, or something. Or where is he? Maybe something awful happened, that he just can’t talk about.”
“It must be something like that. Poor old Cory.”
“What’s a Mal, anyway?” asked Ace.
“Apple-tree,” said Will. “There must have been an orchard here, once.”


When Geoff went off duty at ten o’clock, he was replaced by two men. One was Patrick, Ace thought, but he couldn’t see who the other one was. It was too dark, and the rain was too heavy. They had a lot of stuff with them though, and they were laughing. Ace groaned. He was already cold and wet. It looked like he was in for a bad night. It wasn’t long before he realised what they were up to. Every time he closed his eyes, they shone a bright light in his face, they were determined to stop him sleeping. Even if he jumped up to higher branches, the light still reached him. If he covered his eyes, they used whistles instead, sudden and shrill, to startle him awake. Once, they startled him so much he nearly slipped, and after that he gave up trying to sleep. It was too dangerous. One slip to the ground and it would all be over. So all night long he fought to stay awake. If he stayed in the higher branches, he got even wetter. If he came down to the lower branches, where there was some shelter, they threw things at him. They had buckets with them, full of wet, slimy, smelly things, and you couldn’t dodge everything.

At six o’clock they left, and Jason came on. Ace was shaking with tiredness, but he wasn’t going to give the guards the pleasure of knowing that, or his friends the worry. Carefully dodging Jason, Madge flew into the tree to bring him some drinks, and some dry clothes that Phil had made for him. She noticed the shadows under his eyes at once, but she didn’t mention it, just chatted quietly for a while.

When she’d gone, Ace began to think. He was missing all the fun. Everyone came to see him, but he wasn’t there, in the middle of everything. It was like being in prison. What if they didn’t give up? Could he really stay here forever? But what if they did get him down? He went cold at the thought of it, and it helped. He was filled with a quiet, grim determination. He stood up in his usual spot, a hand on each bough, looking up into the canopy as if to reassure his tree that he would defend it.

The dry clothes were a great boost, and Ace managed to put a brave face on it for most of the day. But by the evening, he couldn’t stop yawning, and he couldn’t fool Will any longer.
“Are you OK? You’re not, are you? What are they doing?”
“Don’t ask.”
“D’you want some help tonight?”
“Thanks Will, but no. I can hear the tree better on my own, and I’ll never get through another night like last night without it.”
Will looked at him. There was nothing he could say. It had to be done, whatever the cost. He understood that. Leave him laughing, that was the thing.
“You know that photo of you in the paper?”
“Don’t remind me. The only photo I’ll ever see, and I look like a hodgepig on a bad day.”
“Rowan’s cut it out and stuck it by her bed.”
“You’re joking!”
“Straight up, it’s true, Rose told me.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Ace, but he was laughing.
“See you tomorrow,” said Will.

Will waited till Geoff’s back was turned, and jumped. He had to go and see Phil now, and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Madge had got at him, and given him a really foul job to do. He squelched over to the shed, and went in. Phil was just sitting near the bud’s chrysalis. Will went over and sat next to him, thinking hard. ‘Get him to open up’, Madge had said. But how?
Quietly, Will said, “What was your tree like? I’ve never seen one.”
Phil’s hand clenched up.
“Grey,” he said shortly. “Dark leaves. The darkest you’ve ever seen. Evergreen.”
“That means your streaks won’t fade when you’re old.”
“That doesn’t sound very scientific.”
“It isn’t really,” sighed Will. “Load of old tosh.”
“Why say it then?”
“Don’t know. Something to say.”
“Look Will, if you don’t want anything, you might as well go.”
“OK,” he said, getting up. At least he’d tried. ‘You’ll know what to say’, Madge had said. Fat chance.
“I’ll get back to Ace, then. Not in the tree, but near enough to see what’s going on. He wouldn’t tell me what they’re doing to him, the great bullies, but… Phil! What’s up?”
“I didn’t fight!” Phil sobbed. “Why didn’t I? I’m so ashamed. Oh Will, I wish I was brave like Ace and you. Why didn’t I die fighting for my tree?”

Will stared. He didn’t know what he’d said, but it seemed to have worked. Patient now, he sat down again.
“Well, why didn’t you? Tell me what happened.”
“We just did as we were told, I suppose,” said Phil. “The senior sprite said we were leaving, and we did. No-one fought, no-one tried to beat the humans, like you.”
“Like us, you mean.”
“Like us. Yes. But why couldn’t I think like that then? Why didn’t I say, I’m not leaving, I’m fighting?”
“I don’t know, Phil. Perhaps you couldn’t, then. Perhaps you had to come here, to learn to think for yourself.”
“Had to?”
“I don’t know why anything happens. But I’m sure of one thing, everything happens for a reason.”
Phil sat quietly, tears streaming down his face, his eyes far away. Will was trying to think, terrified of saying the wrong thing.
I haven’t bothered to get to know him well enough, he thought, ashamed. Dan has. But Dan can’t help. She isn’t really an elf. She wouldn’t get it about trees. Then he knew, knew instantly, exactly what to say.
Very gently, he asked, “Did it speak out loud? To say goodbye?”
Slowly, Phil turned his head and looked Will in the face.
“Oh, yes. Yes, it did. It said, ‘Don’t look back’. “
“Then don’t,” said Will. “It knew you, all right. Knew you’d sit around, regretting things. OK, it’s gone. OK, you didn’t fight - you couldn’t have! You didn’t know how! Face it, turn your back on it, and get your coat on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We are going,” said Will, “to the hawthorn cave corner. We’re going to stay there all night, and see what those thugs are up to. If he needs us, we’ll be there. But if anything happens, we’re far enough away. We don’t want to hear anything that isn’t our business. You’re going to suffer. You’re going to be tireder, and colder, and wetter, than you’ve ever been in your life. And we’re not doing that for Ace. We’re doing it for his tree. And yours. And mine. Do you understand?”
And Phil, with a new calm look in his eyes, nodded and smiled.


At ten o’clock they started with the searchlights again, and Ace resigned himself to another sleepless night. It was raining again, windy and cold, and they were still throwing things at him. Foul things out of buckets again, but also spadefuls of mud, just the wet earth of Wildside that they dug up and flung at him and at the tree. A lot of it missed, of course, but a lot of it didn’t, and soon the lower branches were plastered with mud and very slippery. Hour after hour, Ace fought to keep moving, to keep warm, to keep awake, to keep from slipping. The harder it got, the more determined he was to laugh in their faces. He climbed as high as he could, swaying in the wind, and started singing.
The whole tree was quivering, responding, becoming even more alive. Then it spoke to him, out loud.
“Acer, fly high, don’t look down.”
“No!” shouted Ace. “Don’t say goodbye! We’ve not lost yet!”
But there was no answer. Despairing, he climbed even higher, beyond caring whether it was safe. The wind was in his face, driving down from the north, but it sounded strange. There was a voice in that wind. Ace strained his ears to hear what it was saying.
“Come to me, come to me.”
Startled out of his grief, Ace listened. “Who are you?” he shouted, but the voice just said, ‘Come to me’, out of the north wind.
“This must be what Clover was on about,” thought Ace, amazed. “What on earth is going on?”
Still the voice called.
It wants an answer, thought Ace. “All right!” he shouted. “I want to know what’s going on. But I hope you’re going to call Will, too. It’s both or neither, voice, OK?”

Immediately, the wind died down and the rain stopped. But Ace stood there for hours, thinking. He saw the dawn come. And when daylight was full, he saw, as he knew he would, a crowd of people arrive on Wildside. He took a deep breath. This was it.

It was David who saw them first, from his bedroom window. He threw some clothes on, ran to tell Dominic to get the others, then ran to the tree to help Ace in any way he could. The children quickly gathered, and so did the sprites, even Cory.
Will and Phil joined the other sprites in cover near the brook. Everyone realised they’d been out all night, but no-one said anything. They all watched and waited. A huge tanker had been driven right onto the grass verge, and four men were standing by it. Richard and Darren, the tree surgeons, had their truck parked close behind the tanker. Geoff and Jason arrived, and joined the two guards who’d been there all night, Patrick and the new one. The guard pulled off his coat and hat and everyone saw that it had been Mr. Pearce himself.
“Right, you,” he shouted happily, “this is your last chance. Get down now, or we’ll make you. The law’s on my side, so if the police won’t remove you, I’ll do it myself.”

Ace stood up straight, hands on the boughs to stop himself swaying. He was covered in mud, but he didn’t look defeated. He held his head high, and his eyes blazed in his pale, tired face.
“Go ahead,” he said quietly. “And then what? When you’ve removed me? I warn you, you harm this tree and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. The law may give you the right, but that won’t stop you being a greedy, filthy murderer.”
“Oh, well done, Ace,” breathed Will.

The four men by the tanker unravelled hoses, and spread out around the tree. The high-pressure jets of water, which builders use to clean stone, poured onto the tree, soaking the branches. One jet got Ace in the back, pinning him against a branch. As he fought to get out of it, another one got him and knocked him to his knees. He jumped, and only just held on to the landing. The jets found him again, two of them hit him at once, the pain was incredible. He tried to jump, but didn’t get far, he had to use his arms to catch a branch and swing up to it. Again the water jets found him, again he jumped, and swayed as he landed.
“You’ll never get him,” said Geoff. “This chap can really jump.”
“Get one jet on his back, another on his chest, one under his feet and one in his face,” said Mr. Pearce.

Ace felt the world had turned to water. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t feel his feet, he couldn’t breathe. Dimly, he felt himself falling. As soon as he hit the ground, the security guards dragged him to his feet. Ace punched Patrick in the face, then grabbed Geoff and Jason and banged their heads together. But they managed to overpower him between them, and tied him to the side of the water tanker. Then they ignored him, but Sally had phoned the police herself. She knew they’d stop Mr. Pearce from taking any vicious revenge he had in mind. Richard and Darren assembled their equipment. Sick with horror, Ace saw them pouring petrol into a massive chainsaw.
“Don’t let him watch!” Will screamed. “For pity’s sake, someone hold his head!”

No-one heard, but someone knew, somehow, what to do. It was David. He ran to Ace and pulled him round so he couldn’t see, and put his hand round the back of his head and held it tight. He could feel the tension and grief and pain throbbing through Ace’s body as he tried to hold him still, tried to help him contain it. He tightened his grip as the chainsaw’s engine kicked in. When they heard the blade begin to bite, Ace gripped David’s hand hard, his knuckles white and his arm shaking.
Will could see how rigid he was, how wildly his eyes were staring at nothing. And there was nothing he could do to help. He didn’t realise how tightly his own hands were clutching his hair, or that the others were keeping close to him in case he tried to do anything mad. They all shut their eyes when the final crash came.
As the chainsaw was turned off, and the murmur of voices started, two policemen arrived. They knew all about it, and could see that the trespass was over. Like Sally, they didn’t want any fighting to start, and they wanted to have a chat with Ace.
“Get in the car,” said one of them, not unkindly.
“Oh, poor Ace,” said Rose bitterly. “He’s always wanted to go in a car, and now he’s too sad to enjoy it.”
“Where are you taking him?” asked David urgently.
“Cheadle Hulme.”
Just then, Darren came running over and pushed Ace’s guitar into his hand. There wasn’t a scratch on it.
Ace looked at David. “Would you like this?” he said. “I’d like you to have it, for being so kind. I have a feeling it might be too big for me, soon.”
“Thank you,” said David. “I’ll find you. I’ll bring Will.”
Their eyes met, then the policemen drove Ace away.


Later that day, Sally drove Will and David to the police station to see what was happening. David went in on his own.
“Released without charge,” the sergeant on duty told him. “The trespass was over. Told him he could press charges against those security guards, but he didn’t want to.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” said David. “He doesn’t think like that.”
“Strange chap. Answered everything I asked him, as pleasantly as you like, but he wouldn’t tell me his real name.”
“Ace is his real name. Well, Acer, anyway.”
“Acer?” said the sergeant, who was a bit of a gardener. “Isn’t that the name of a tree?”
“You’re getting there. Where is he, anyway? You haven’t sent him wandering the streets on his own, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. For all he said he was twenty-six, there was something about him that reminded me of a child. Are you David, by any chance?”
“Yes.”
“When I told him he was free to go, he just said, ‘I don’t know the way home. David will find me. Wake me up when he comes.’ Then he just curled up on the floor and went to sleep.”
David helped him out to the car. Ace smiled at them all, but he was too tired to talk. He fell asleep again straight away, and Will transformed him as he slept. He didn’t wake till morning.


He was in his own bed, and Will was sitting on the table. Realising where he was, and why, and that he was back to his own size, took him quite a few moments.
“How are you feeling?” said Will.
“Empty.”
Will nodded. After a while, he spoke again. “D’you want a drink?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s only water, here, have some.”
Ace’s hands were shaking as he tried to hold the cup steady.
“Will.”
“I’m here, old lad.”
“What did they do to it? Tell me, I need to know.”
Will shut his eyes for a moment.
“After they took you away? They stripped the branches off, Ace, and fed them into a shredding machine. Then they sawed up the trunk into sections, and threw them on the back of a lorry. The stump they ripped out of the ground with some sort of machine, and that went on the lorry too. They drove it away. It’s all gone.”
He left him in peace for a few minutes.
When he came back, Ace was wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
“Have you got a pencil, Will, and a bit of paper?”
“Sure, but what…oh, I see. That’s a good idea. It ought to help a bit. D’you want the house to yourself?”
“No, I’ll go down to the motorway. I can think there.”
Will smiled. “Take care.”
“Thanks, Will. For everything.”


When Ace got back, he was looking much calmer, though still very grave and sad. He went straight to Will and handed him a piece of paper. Will read it with growing amazement on his face.

Ace’s Song for his Tree

You say you own the land,
That it’s yours to smash and break,
But this time you have gone too far,
That life wasn’t yours to take.
You came with your saw,
And you came with the law,
And the law was on your side,
But you will surely pay the price
For your arrogance and pride.

Chorus:
You slash and cut and strip and slay,
And we fall beneath your might,
But the screaming souls of every murdered tree
Will haunt your dreams tonight.
Take, take, take,
That’s all you ever do,
But the innocent ghosts of the fields you choked
Are running after you.

You came with iron weapons,
You came with axe and blade,
With rending, shredding, tearing steel,
A massacre you made.
You knocked me down
And chained me up,
You tore my heart out too,
That really wasn’t very wise -
You don’t know what I can do.


“Strong, Ace. Very strong.”
“D’you like it?”
“Like it? It’s brilliant. We’re writing a tune for it, of course?”
“If you think we can.”
“You bet we can. D’you feel up to it, now?”
“Oh, yes. Let’s go and find Phil and Dan.”
By midnight, they had the perfect tune. Built from the bass, it was dark and menacing, filled with the throbbing of the relentless pursuit. The sound of it poured across Wildside. Fired by their imaginations, the images travelled miles, all the way to Wilmslow, where they entered the head of Bill Pearce, and gave him the first of many nightmares.