The Firehills Read Online Free PDF Page B

daydream. “What?”
    “‘Uh?’” mimicked Charly. “You! That’s what!
You’ve got a face like a wet hen. What is it?”
    “Nothing,” replied Sam, irritated.
    “Oh, yeah?” Charly raised one eyebrow.
    “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
    “This is going to be a long, long weekend if all you’re going to do is grunt.”
    “Look, just leave me alone, will you?” shouted Sam. He
turned and stamped off down the sidewalk, then realized he had no idea where he
was going. With a sheepish smile, he turned around. Charly was standing with
her hands on her hips, one eyebrow still raised.
    “Sorry?” tried Sam.
    The eyebrow remained raised.
    “That was a bit over the top, wasn’t it?”
    Charly nodded. “Come on.” She took him by the elbow
and led him across the street to a tiny park by the church. Sitting him down on
a bench she said, “Right. Tell Charly all about it.”
    Sam smiled despite himself and sat down next to her.
Leaning forward, hands clasped together, Sam tried to order his thoughts. He
was no good at talking about his feelings and preferred to keep everything
locked away inside. He was also very bad at talking to girls, though it somehow
seemed easier with Charly.
    “You know last year, when it was all over,” he began,
referring to his final battle with the Malifex, in the circle of Stonehenge,
“and I came back to Woolgarston Farm?”
    Charly merely nodded, giving him the space he needed.
    “You were already there. But I left you in the woods. On
Dartmoor.”
    Charly said nothing.
    “How did you get back?”
    Charly thought for a moment, then said, “A girl’s got
to have some secrets.” It sounded lame, even to her. Sam was quiet for a
while. Then he said, “I knew you’d say something like that.” He paused
again. “I haven’t—”
    His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat. “I
haven’t been the same, since I got back.”
    Again, Charly left a silence for him to fill.
    “He’s still here, somewhere.” Sam tapped one finger
in the center of his forehead.
    “The Green Man?”
    Sam nodded. “He never quite went away. It’s like . . .
you know the feeling you sometimes get, like someone’s watching you? And when
you turn round, really quickly, you almost see who it is, but not quite? It’s
like that. It’s as if he’s behind me but in my head. Does that make any sense?” He turned sharply to Charly.
    She nodded.
    “And it makes me different,” he finished.
    They sat in silence again, apart from the unceasing cries
of the gulls and the far-off bustle of the town.
    “I’m having trouble at school,” Sam continued.
“They can tell that I’m different. They bullied me at first, but I scare
them, and they leave me alone now.”
    “What about your games?” asked Charly. “You told me
you used to swap computer games and stuff. What happened to that?”
    Sam looked Charly in the eyes for several seconds, then
said, “Do you think, after you have faced the Malifex and his servants and
defeated them, that there is a single game left worth playing?” He sounded suddenly very grown
up, and Charly understood exactly what he meant by “different.”
    “I guess not,” she replied sheepishly.
    Sam stared at the ground for a moment, then turned to
Charly with a tight smile. “Sorry, but you did ask.”
    “Mmmm, yes, I did, didn’t I? Come on.” Charly
decided it was better to drop the subject and jumped to her feet. “Let’s go
and explore!”
    Sam looked at her for a moment and then, with a tired
smile, replied, “OK. Let’s explore. Lead the way.”

    ‡

    Along the streets of the Old Town they came, in twos and
threes, long overcoats trailing like black wings behind them. The ancient
Sidhe, the Faery Folk, were gathering for the hunt.
    Down on the seafront, the Lady Una sat on the wooden
backrest of a bench near the boating lake, her booted feet placed demurely
together on the seat. She had exchanged her black wedding dress for something
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