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so he could stand a bit taller. “I deal with a lot of things far worse than you every day of the week, and it usually doesn’t work out well for them.”
    â€œThat’s not what I heard either.”
    Finn immediately deflated. “You seem to have heard everything then,” he said, betrayed by a squeak of hurt in his voice. “Now leave me alone.”
    He turned and started marching away.
    â€œEmmie!” she shouted after him. “My name’s Emmie. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. First-day nerves, I guess.”
    â€œYeah, well . . .” Finn paused, but he still didn’t know what to say.
    â€œI mean, my dad moved here because of his job and I never thought I’d end up in a small town because, you know, I grew up in the city and I’ve never had to be the new girl, not that I had that many friends back home anyway, but I had a few and now they’re there and I’m here and this town is kind of weird because, you know, I wasn’t even allowed to bring Silver with us because he’d get hurt just climbing the walls because—oh, Silver’s my cat, by the way—because of all the glass on them. I mean, what is the story with this place and its high walls and all the glass and these narrow mazy alleys? Do people actually like living like this? Because it seems like, I don’t know, kind of depressing. I mean, another few weeks and I’ll probably just go completely . . .”
    Emmie stopped, suddenly aware of how much she had blurted at him.
    Having been blurted at , Finn was a little stunned.
    â€œOh yeah,” she said. “It’s to stop those, erm, things, isn’t it? I heard all about it. In school.”
    She stepped forward, her hair parting a little to reveal green eyes that were wide with enthusiasm. “Tell me, do you see many of them? Did you see one this morning? Are they dangerous? What are they like? Have you ever killed one?”
    Self-awareness reasserted itself and she stepped back, tucking her head down so that her face again retreated behind her hair. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so nosy,” she said.“It’s just, well, it’s kind of cool .”
    A flush burst across Finn’s cheeks. Emmie looked around, seeming a little uncomfortable. “I’ve blabbered on too much. I’d better go.”
    â€œOh,” said Finn, still a bit dazed by all of this.
    â€œI’ll see you tomorrow,” she said brightly.
    â€œWhatever. At school, I suppose.”
    â€œI’ll see you before that, on the way there.”
    Emmie opened the door of the house they were standing in front of and disappeared inside.
    Finn remained where he was, somewhat bemused by the encounter. He looked at the house for a few seconds. It was a standard town house, nothing special. His was similar, of course—from the outside at least—so he knew how deceptive looks could be, but Emmie’s was on an ordinary street, lined with busy houses and cars and a sense of life. It wasn’t the ruin that his street appeared to be. He envied that.
    Finn turned to make his way home. As he did, he noticed the twitch of a curtain in the downstairs window, but whoever was there was gone just as quick.

9
    F inn sat at the desk in his bedroom, below a windowsill cluttered with coins, batteries, broken pieces of an old phone, and a frayed stuffed animal with eight arms and soft fangs that he’d never been able to bring himself to throw out. His goldfish, Bubbles, picked around the stones in his tank, occasionally darting in fright at his own reflection.
    In front of him was a large hardcover book: The Most Great Lives of the Legend Hunters, From Ancient Times to the Modern Day, volume 18, From Rupert the Unwise to Sven Iron-Tooth . Finn was supposed to be studying it, but his eyes were not on the book. Instead, they were on the now dark, quiet street outside, which still glistened with the wet of the