By Ash, Oak and Thorn by Melissa Harrison

Author:Melissa Harrison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken House
Published: 2021-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

The Folly sparkled in the sunshine as it flowed past the yellow acres of Lucking’s Meadow, and overhead the spring sky was blue. A tortoiseshell butterfly danced among the violets blooming on the stream bank as the birds sang cheerfully all around.

On a path beside the stream was a single, dark red roller boot with two yellow stripes. A tiny face appeared at the opening, disappeared again – and all of a sudden the boot whizzed off as if by magic, a cry of triumph issuing from within. Further down the path it rolled slowly to a halt. There came a pause, and some muttering – then off it flew again.

‘Thataway!’ called Burnet, whose head kept popping up to check on their direction.

‘Faster, faster!’ cried Moss each time Sorrel wound up the rubber bands that powered the wheels.

‘Did I remember to lock the front door?’ muttered Sorrel, not really expecting an answer from anyone.

Meanwhile, Cumulus, deep in the toe of the boot, was quietly thinking about sudden decisions, which were sometimes brave and sometimes foolish, and how it can be hard to tell which it is until you know how things turn out. It’s definitely true that sometimes you have to just do a scary thing quickly, without worrying too much, or you never will; but at other times it’s better to plan and prepare – and Cumulus was thinking that maybe going to the Mortals’ Hive in a home-made chariot might be the second sort of situation, when the boot slammed into a large clump of dock at high speed. There was a jolt, the feeling of briefly being airborne, and then, with a splash, Thunderbolt began filling up with water and sinking to the bottom of what could only be the Folly Brook.

Moss bobbed up to the surface, doggy-paddled to the bank and looked back. There in mid-stream was Burnet, hanging on to the submerged Thunderbolt by one of its laces, then taking a big breath of air and bravely going back under to haul Cumulus out of the boot and over to the bank. But where was Sorrel?

‘Oi! Hey! Gerroff!’ came a familiar voice. And there, swimming with his head well above the stream, was Eddy, and in Eddy’s mouth was Sorrel, held carefully in his sharp teeth but struggling and protesting all the same.

‘What did I tell you?’ said Eddy after he had spat Sorrel on to the stream bank with the others.

‘You said I should learn to swim,’ said Sorrel, ‘but, as I’ve told you before, I have absolutely no intention of getting into the Folly on purpose, so why would I?’

‘Because you live beside water, and accidents happen,’ said Eddy. ‘Like this one. Good thing for you I was passing – and it’s just as well I didn’t take you for a frog, given that ridiculous outfit. I could have eaten you whole!’

‘Excuse me, but it’s very rude to pass comment on another creature’s attire,’ said Sorrel, standing up as tall and dignified as was possible, water dripping a bit slimily from the frogskin onesie.

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