Chapter 1Gamaliel TumpinA golden dawn edged up over the rim of Hagwood. The new leaves of March made the forest roof glow a glorious green, and the morning resounded with joyous birdsong.In the western corner of that vast woodland, other inhabitants were stirring, putting their heads out of their holes and hollows to welcome the waking day and call to one another in excited greeting.The venerable oaks that grew between the Hagburn and the cinder track were home to many creatures, but none so singularly strange as the forgotten race of the little werling folk.How long they had dwelt there, high in the trees, no one knew-for they were accounted small and insignificant and had always been overlooked. Within the richly decorated pages of gold-bound bestiaries, locked deep inside the Hollow Hill, there was no record of their existence. The simple people who practiced the art of wergling were not considered worthy of attention and so had no part in the long, grim histories of that secluded realm. But all that was about to change-the hour of the werlings was fast approaching. Soon even the Most High Lady would be aware of them. This is their tale, and it began upon that bright March morning in a snug chamber within the trunk of a great oak tree.GRUNTING softly in his sleep, Gamaliel Tumpin lay on his stomach, face buried in the soft, dry moss of the bed. His gentle snores were the pleasant "hums" and "nemyims" of complete contentment, but when his sister barged into that small chamber, shock and annoyance crinkled her face immediately."No you don't!" she gasped in outrage. "I won't let you!" And with that she jumped heavily upon the mossy bed. "Idlebones!" she bawled, grabbing her brother's shoulders and shaking him roughly. "Don't you be late this first morning. I doesn't want you making a show of me! Father's bad enough!"Jolted from sleep, Gamaliel gave a startled cry and was promptly flipped over by his sister's podgy hands."How could you doze in today?" she demanded, grabbing a fistful of moss and rubbing it into his unsuspecting face.Spluttering, Gamaliel pushed her away, but the girl would not be thwarted and, snatching hold of his grubby ankles, hauled him from the bed."Kernella!" he squealed. "Let go, let go! I'm awake, I'm awake!"Casting his struggling feet aside, Kernella Tumpin glowered down at her brother, stern disapproval etched into every freckled furrow of her forehead.On the floor, spitting out shreds of his nestlike bed, Gamaliel glared back at her.Kernella was two years older than her brother and took every opportunity to boss and scold him. A plain, plump werling child with short reddish hair that would never hold a curl no matter how hard she tried, she scrutinized the room and voiced her disdain."Messier than a rat hole in here." She sniffed, folding her arms in the manner so familiar and annoying to Gamaliel. "You'll not last long if'n you doesn't spruce your ideas up. Master Gibble won't stand for an Excerpted from The Hagwood Trilogy: Thorn Ogres of Hagwood by Robin Jarvis All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
