Kit Whitfield – författare

Everyone knows that if you fall afoul of the People, you must travel the miles to Gyrford, where uncounted generations of fairy-smiths have protected the county with cold iron, good counsel and unvarnished opinions about your common sense.But shielding the weak from the strong can make enemies. Ephraim Brady has money and power, and the bitter will to hurt those who cross him. And if he can't touch elder farrier Jedediah Smith, he can harm those the Smiths care about. The Smiths care about Tobias Ware, born on a night when the blazing fey dog Black Hal roared past the Wares' gate. Tobias doesn't understand the language or laws of men, and he can't keep away from the Bellame woods, where trespass is a hanging offence. If Toby is to survive, he needs protection. It should be a manageable job. Jedediah Smith has a head on his shoulders, and so too (mostly) does his son Matthew. Only Matthew's son John has turned out a little . . . uncommon. But he means well. It wasn't his fault the bramble bush put on a berry-head and started taking offence. Or that Tobias upset it. But John's not yet learned that if you follow the things other folk don't see, they might drag those you love into the path of ruin.

Everyone knows that if you fall afoul of the People, you must travel the miles to Gyrford, where uncounted generations of fairy-smiths have protected the county with cold iron, good counsel and unvarnished opinions about your common sense.But shielding the weak from the strong can make enemies. Ephraim Brady has money and power, and the bitter will to hurt those who cross him. And if he can't touch elder farrier Jedediah Smith, he can harm those the Smiths care about. The Smiths care about Tobias Ware, born on a night when the blazing fey dog Black Hal roared past the Wares' gate. Tobias doesn't understand the language or laws of men, and he can't keep away from the Bellame woods, where trespass is a hanging offence. If Toby is to survive, he needs protection. It should be a manageable job. Jedediah Smith has a head on his shoulders, and so too (mostly) does his son Matthew. Only Matthew's son John has turned out a little . . . uncommon. But he means well. It wasn't his fault the bramble bush put on a berry-head and started taking offence. Or that Tobias upset it. But John's not yet learned that if you follow the things other folk don't see, they might drag those you love into the path of ruin.

Jedediah's father walked out of his life forty years ago. Now he's back. He won't apologise, he doesn't explain - and, impossibly, he hasn't aged a day. If you asked the folks of Gyrford, they'd tell you Jedediah Smith looked up to his father. After all, Corbie Mackem was the Sarsen Shepherd: the man who saved the Smith clan from Ab, the terrifyingly well-meaning fey who blighted a whole generation with unwanted gifts. Corbie was a good fairy-smith. And if he wasn't a good father, well, that isn't something Jedediah likes to talk about. Especially since no one knows where Corbie's body lies: the day of his son's wedding, forty-odd years ago, he set off to travel and was never seen again.These days Jedediah is a respectable elder, more concerned with his wayward grandson John than with his long-buried past, and he has other problems on his mind. There's the preparations for Saint Clement's Day, and the odd fact that birds all over the county have taken to hiding themselves, and the misbehaviour of Left-Lop the pig - which has grown vegetation all over its back, escaped its farm and taken to making personal remarks at folks in alarmingly alliterative verse.But then disaster strikes. Ab is back. And Corbie, thought long dead, returns to Gyrford - younger than his son . . .