Catherine Cooper - Glasruhen Gate

THE
GOLDEN
ACORN

CATHERINE COOPER

PROLOGUE

Nora tapped her wand impatiently on the kitchen table before speaking to Camelin.

Im sure Im right. Jack Brenin is The One .

He cant be, hes so small and weedy; hes supposed to be strong and brave.

Nora thought for a while before she spoke again.

Hes a Brenin.

Well, there has to be a better Brenin than this one.

The prophecys quite clear and this Brenin was born on the right night, in the right place and at the right time. The trees have been watching him since he arrived, they seem satisfied hes The One .

The trees could be wrong, Camelin mumbled in case he was overheard. He knew how fast word could travel from one tree to another. If Arrana, the ancient Hamadryad, heard him hed be in big trouble. She lived in the oldest oak tree in the heart of Glasruhen Forest and was always very well informed.

Im sure hell help us. If he doesnt all will be lost. Hes our last hope and were running out of time.

If hes our last hope were doomed.

As Nora paced up and down the kitchen, the end of her wand began to splutter; red sparks erupted from the tip.

We need help. Im going to write to Elan; she needs to be here.

As Nora wrote Camelin hung his head. He knew she was right. Time was running out; Arrana was slowly dying. She was the only Hamadryad left on Earth and without her protection the tree spirits of the forest would eventually fade away and only hollow trees would remain. Unless they found someone willing to help them find a way to open the portal into the Otherworld and bring back new Hamadryad acorns, their own time on Earth would end too. As each year passed Arrana grew weaker. It would need a very special person to accept the challenges which lay ahead. Camelin continued to sulk. Jack Brenin had not impressed him.

Hes not the kind of boy whos going to care if the spirit of an ancient oak tree lives or dies.

If he passes the test he will.

There was a long silence. Eventually Nora fished in her pocket and produced a beautiful golden acorn and placed it carefully on the table.

Put this where the boy will see it, its the only way to be sure.

I bet he kicks it. I was watching him yesterday kicking cans and stones about. What kind of help could he possibly be? The journey weve got to make might be dangerous, too dangerous for the likes of Jack Brenin.

Take the acorn. If he sees it and picks it up well know hes The One .

Camelin scowled. He picked up the golden acorn and reluctantly left the kitchen to find a good place to hide and watch. He might have a long wait. He wasnt happy: Nora was probably right but Jack Brenin was the furthest thing from a hero hed ever seen.

THE GOLDEN ACORN

Oi, Pimple! Leave it! one of the boys from the middle of the field yelled as Jack went to kick the ball, Dont even think about it.

Jack had been watching them play football for the past half hour. No one had asked him to join in. No one had taken any notice of him, until now. The size of the goalie running towards him should have made him think twice, but it was too late, his foot had already made contact with the ball.

What you do that for? snarled the keeper.

Only trying to help. Any chance of a game?

No, clear off, you dont belong here.

I live here.

Since when?

Since yesterday.

Well if I see you here again youre gonna wish you didnt.

As the goalkeeper turned to rejoin the game he pushed Jack hard on the shoulder sending him to the ground. Tears welled up in Jacks eyes; he wished hed never come to the field. He thumped the grass with his fists. It wasnt fair; he hadnt asked to come and live with Grandad. He didnt know anyone here.

Jack watched the boys from where he lay. He knew he ought to go. The game hadnt restarted yet. There was a lot of shouting as everyone ran over to a tall boy who had blood gushing from his nose. Jack began to feel uncomfortable; the boys turned and looked in his direction. Someone pointed, another yelled, get him , then they all started yelling. The ball hed kicked must have hit the tall boy in the face. For a moment Jack froze as they ran towards him. He managed to scramble to his feet and run as fast as he could towards the gate. Hot tears burned his cheeks. Half stumbling, half running he skidded into the back lane behind the field. He wished hed got his bike but hed not been able to bring it with him to Grandads. The boys were gaining on him, their voices growing louder and louder. He didnt want to think about what might happen if they caught him. Jack knew he didnt have enough time to make it back to the safety of Grandads house. As he rounded the corner he looked for somewhere to hide. In desperation he saw a gap in the hedge. Sometimes being small had its advantages. He flung himself into the undergrowth, wriggled through the long grass and squeezed under the bushes. He hoped they hadnt seen him. He sat very still on the other side of the hedge. His heart pounded so loudly that he was sure theyd be able to hear it.