Don was out of the Land Rover. He was poking his walking stick into one of the puddles to test its depth.
He said, “You want to get a load of stones ordered and – ”
“I’m on it, dad,” Damien said.
Damien put on the gloves, and lifted the entire cage out of the back of the pickup. He remembered how lively the sprite had been when he’d struggled it into the sack, and didn’t want to risk having it fight him through the bag while he was trying to carry it.
“You got it?
“I’ve got it.”
Don led the way. All the trees here were tall, straight, and evenly spaced. As woodland went, it was kind of boring. It could take a thousand years for a forest to grow a soul. There were many theories as to how it happened, all of them more speculation than science. One went that if a habitat was cleared, th
