Excerpt from KRINGLE
by Tony Abbott
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Kringle hadn't slept more than an hour before the wagon began to slow. When he sat up, he had a very bad ache in his head from where it had struck the tree. It was bitterly cold, and he found himself hungry again, but soon enough the questions began.
"How long have I been sleeping? What's happening now? Just where exactly are we?"
"About an hour," said the one named Vindalf, "going to Elvenwald, and not far from home!"
Looking around, Kringle saw that the elves had brought him deeper into the forest than he had ever been. It was still night, but the moon was shining higher now through disappearing clouds, and the woods shone completely white, with only the lightest, laziest snow falling through the treetops.
"Ah! And so!" sighed Gussi as the wagon pulled to a stop between two giant fir trees. Beyond the firs were pines and other evergreens leaning together with great fat leafless oaks and tall alders and bare ash trees. They formed a natural fence that surrounded a broad, white clearing. Icicles dripped down from the high trees in coils and swirls and playful fingers, mimicking the long vines of ivy that looped brightly between the branches.
"Why did we stop here?" Kringle asked.
Now, to you or me, asking such a question, or any question, of an elf, instead of asking, say, "Are you really, really, REALLY an ELF?" might seem silly. But Kringle was a smart boy, as you knew from the beginning, and a smart boy really does have to get on with it.
From Kringle. Copyright © 2005 by Tony Abbott.
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