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What happens when you bury an angel?

William, an orphan boy, lives at Crowfield Abbey in the 14th century. Sent into the forest to gather wood, he instead rescues a fantastical creature from a trap – a hob, who shares with Will a dark secret. Somewhere in the forest, behind the abbey where he lives, is a grave. And buried deep in the snow is an angel.

But how can an angel die? What has it to do with the history of the forest and Abbey? 

When two hooded strangers arrive at Crowfield asking questions about the angel’s grave, Will is drawn into a battling world of good and bad spirits. The forces unleashed are terrifying, the characters are never what they seem, but the boy’s simple goodness proves to be the real key of the mystery.

An atmospheric, beautifully imagined fantasy-mystery set in an intriguing medieval world – told through the eyes of a boy and a curious magical creature, a hob. The Crowfield Curse was short-listed for the Times Children’s Fiction Competition in 2008. This is a stunning debut novel and the first of a series.

Reviews:

‘… a real page-turner that belongs in the same dark place as the Spook’s Apprentice…’ BESTSELLING AUTHOR JOSEPH DELANEY  

'Understatedly tender and mystical yet solid; it ends in temporary peace, with sequel potential...' KIRKUS STARRED REVIEW

'With fascinating attention to detail and an edgy battle between evil and good, Walsh sweeps readers almost effortlessly into another time and place...' SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL

'...welcome an exciting new talent in children’s fantasy, which always has room for one more when the writing is good and imagination fresh...' THE INDEPENDENT

'...Don’t miss this; Walsh is a striking new storyteller and I can’t wait for a sequel.' AMANDA CRAIG, THE TIMES

Runner-up in the Times/Chicken House Children’s Fiction Competition 2009

Named one of New York Public Library's 100 Titles for Reading and Sharing for 2010

Named one of Kirkus’ Best Books of the Year 2010

Shortlisted for the Waterstones Children's Fiction Prize 2010

Selected for the 2010 Booked Up programme, offering books to over 666,000 children in the UK

Longlisted for the Redbridge Children's Book Award 2011

Shortlisted for the Coventry Inspiration Book Awards 2011

William crouched behind the fallen oak tree and listened. Close by, someone or something was whimpering in pain.

‘Oh, for pity’s sake … my leg.’

Soft groans, a snuffling grunt, and then, ‘My leg! Oh, my leg,mylegmylegmyleg, my leeeeg …’

Cautiously, William got to his feet and peered over the trunk of the tree. He could not see anyone. He stared around the woodland clearing uneasily. Frost rimed the hanks of dead grass and thin branches of hazel and elder bushes.

Nothing moved.

The whimpering stopped and William had the uncomfortable feeling he was being watched.

‘Who’s there?’ he called. He waited for several moments, and then called a little louder, ‘Do you need help?’ There was no reply. William climbed over the tree. He lost his footing on the icy bark and fell, landing heavily on his hands and knees.

 ‘Kill me, why don’t you?’ a voice said, weak with pain and despair. ‘Land on top of me and finish the job. What is one hob more or less?’

The voice trailed away into a low moan. Startled, and more than a little alarmed, William scrambled to his feet and stared around. There was a movement in the grass by his feet. He leaned down to take a closer look. The first thing he saw was a pair of large green eyes, flecked through with splinters of gold. The eyes stared back at him warily. Then he saw a small, pointed face, the skin as brown as a beechnut, pointed ears that ended in tufts of reddish brown hair and a small, thin body no bigger than a cat. A long, thin tail curled and uncurled around the body.

He was a creature the like of which William had never seen before. For a few moments, William’s mind went blank. He stared down into the large, watchful eyes and felt the hairs on the back of his neck hackle. This was neither animal nor man, but he could speak. What manner of creature could do that? Fear stroked a cold finger down his spine. His mouth had gone dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Part of him wanted to turn and run, but another part of him was rooted to the spot by curiosity.

And then William saw the blood…