Read Online The Windvale Sprites by Mackenzie Crook - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mackenzie Crook
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much bigger chamber. I shall return at daybreak on the morrow.
Asa went to bed that night with a heavy heart. Reading about Tooth’s decimation of the colony made him feel that he was a part of the ruthless plan. Though he had endeavoured to provide a comfortable environment for his specimen the sprite was still not eating and was spending more and more time hidden from view in the burrow.
His parents were coming back in two days and he resolved that if there was no change by the end of tomorrow he would take the creature back to its home.
17
The Statue
The next morning Asa let himself into the greenhouse and froze. The sprite was lying motionless at the entrance to the burrow, its rich olive-coloured skin now a pallid grey.
But as he closed the greenhouse door the creature looked up and pulled itself back out of sight.
Asa knew he had to take it back to the moor.
There were only a few pages of the journal left to read and, though he didn’t expect the story to end happily, he was curious to know what Tooth had discovered.
6th July
I have found it! The object that the creatures hold in such high esteem and which I am certain has some kind of mystic power of eternal youth. It is mine!
I’ll be brief as I have many dissections to perform on the captured specimens and they are dropping like flies.
When I returned to the warren at first light there was indeed some evidence that a group of them had been back to salvage their treasures but the rubble barricades were too much for them. They had started to dig new tunnels down but they had been abandoned, probably as they saw me arriving.
It didn’t take long to reach the room I mentioned yesterday, some sort of dining hall with earthen tables and benches in rows. Other rooms and antechambers lead off of this hall, dormitories perhaps, but nothing of great interest was found here.
It was then that I realised the fresh tunnels that had appeared overnight were on the other side of the mound. Whatever they were so desperate to retrieve was obviously on that side. I started to dig in the direction of these new holes. After an hour’s hard graft the ground suddenly caved in and revealed a large chamber filled with objects, the collected treasures of generations of sprites. They were the shiny trinkets that I have come to know the beasts cannot resist. Lots of junk and scrap metal, spoons, nails, stained glass, and my stolen coat buttons and hatpin, all polished to a high sheen. But amongst the rubbish are many valuable items, numerous coins, some of them gold, dating back to Roman times, small pieces of jewellery and gems. I shall spend many enjoyable evenings sifting though my hoard, grading and valuing the treasure.
The floor of this grand ‘hall’ (though it is, in actual fact, no bigger than the size of my pantry) had semicircular earthen ridges radiating out from a central point, presumably seating, and at the centre was the object of my search. A figure, a totem fashioned in wood, perhaps rose or holly, barely eight inches tall and exactly as represented in the tattoos the creatures bear which have intrigued me so greatly. It is a beautiful piece of work with carving so intricate it can only have been rendered by tiny hands but, more than that, as soon as I grasped it and tore it from its base I felt an invigorating wave of health and vitality pass through me. The aches and cramps of the previous day’s exertion evaporated and I felt as strong as an ox.
This wild place, this unforgiving Windvale Moor that I have come to love has finally rewarded me.
A possible plan is to grind the statue to a fine powder and use it in potions that will guarantee long life and health. This I will sell at great profit, not to ordinary people but to Kings and Queens, only the very rich, and then so shall I be. It cannot fail.
Asa turned the page to a beautiful painting of the object (whatever else
Asa went to bed that night with a heavy heart. Reading about Tooth’s decimation of the colony made him feel that he was a part of the ruthless plan. Though he had endeavoured to provide a comfortable environment for his specimen the sprite was still not eating and was spending more and more time hidden from view in the burrow.
His parents were coming back in two days and he resolved that if there was no change by the end of tomorrow he would take the creature back to its home.
17
The Statue
The next morning Asa let himself into the greenhouse and froze. The sprite was lying motionless at the entrance to the burrow, its rich olive-coloured skin now a pallid grey.
But as he closed the greenhouse door the creature looked up and pulled itself back out of sight.
Asa knew he had to take it back to the moor.
There were only a few pages of the journal left to read and, though he didn’t expect the story to end happily, he was curious to know what Tooth had discovered.
6th July
I have found it! The object that the creatures hold in such high esteem and which I am certain has some kind of mystic power of eternal youth. It is mine!
I’ll be brief as I have many dissections to perform on the captured specimens and they are dropping like flies.
When I returned to the warren at first light there was indeed some evidence that a group of them had been back to salvage their treasures but the rubble barricades were too much for them. They had started to dig new tunnels down but they had been abandoned, probably as they saw me arriving.
It didn’t take long to reach the room I mentioned yesterday, some sort of dining hall with earthen tables and benches in rows. Other rooms and antechambers lead off of this hall, dormitories perhaps, but nothing of great interest was found here.
It was then that I realised the fresh tunnels that had appeared overnight were on the other side of the mound. Whatever they were so desperate to retrieve was obviously on that side. I started to dig in the direction of these new holes. After an hour’s hard graft the ground suddenly caved in and revealed a large chamber filled with objects, the collected treasures of generations of sprites. They were the shiny trinkets that I have come to know the beasts cannot resist. Lots of junk and scrap metal, spoons, nails, stained glass, and my stolen coat buttons and hatpin, all polished to a high sheen. But amongst the rubbish are many valuable items, numerous coins, some of them gold, dating back to Roman times, small pieces of jewellery and gems. I shall spend many enjoyable evenings sifting though my hoard, grading and valuing the treasure.
The floor of this grand ‘hall’ (though it is, in actual fact, no bigger than the size of my pantry) had semicircular earthen ridges radiating out from a central point, presumably seating, and at the centre was the object of my search. A figure, a totem fashioned in wood, perhaps rose or holly, barely eight inches tall and exactly as represented in the tattoos the creatures bear which have intrigued me so greatly. It is a beautiful piece of work with carving so intricate it can only have been rendered by tiny hands but, more than that, as soon as I grasped it and tore it from its base I felt an invigorating wave of health and vitality pass through me. The aches and cramps of the previous day’s exertion evaporated and I felt as strong as an ox.
This wild place, this unforgiving Windvale Moor that I have come to love has finally rewarded me.
A possible plan is to grind the statue to a fine powder and use it in potions that will guarantee long life and health. This I will sell at great profit, not to ordinary people but to Kings and Queens, only the very rich, and then so shall I be. It cannot fail.
Asa turned the page to a beautiful painting of the object (whatever else
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