Alton and Velda (which hasn’t got a proper name yet) is my maiden voyage into more traditional fantasy. My other fantasy work has been set in more modern times. I am pleased.

“Can you help us with that?” Alton asked.

“I can.”

“Will you?”

Old Jon chuckled. “You’re learning, Sapling.”

Alton tried not to be offended by that nickname, but it rankled. He was hardly a child. Among his own kind, he was still a young man. By human standards, he was probably of an age with Old Jon.

“Don’t like that, do you, youngun’?” The old man winked. “Think you’re old as me?” He shook his grizzled head. Sapling, I was merely old when the world was young. When you were a lad, I was ancient. Truth is, I don’t know my age anymore. But trust me, even Oak Mother is a spry sapling in comparison to Old…