Hamish X and the Hollow Mountain Read Online Free Page A

able to access the great libraries of the world. Truly—”
    â€œParveen,” Mimi interrupted, “can we get to the meat o’ this particular nut, please?”
    â€œRight, well.” Parveen pulled his glasses off and polished them again with the corner of his shirt. Mrs. Francis frowned but he ignored her. “The King of Switzerland is a legend among the orphans of the world.He is said to have a hidden kingdom called the Hollow Mountain where any orphan may seek shelter from the adults who would exploit him or her. The King is the sworn enemy of anyone who would mistreat a child. One has only to make contact with him and the orphan in question will gain his protection even against the terrifying power of the Grey Agents.”
    â€œIf that’s true,” Mimi asked, “how can we contact this dude?”
    â€œI believe,” Parveen replaced his glasses and held up the knife. “I believe he has already contacted us . We must go to these coordinates and hope that he will find us.”
    They all looked at the knife in Parveen’s hand. They had no other lead. Hamish X was in a bizarre state of shock. They were alone in the world and at the mercy of the ODA. They needed an ally.
    Mimi shrugged and summed it all up. “What the heck? It can’t get much worse. Switzerland it is!”
    HALFWAY ACROSS THE WORLD , a boy with unruly red hair pored over his jigsaw puzzle. The puzzle, only a third of its four thousand pieces in place on the vast tabletop, depicted a field of red poppies waving in the sunshine. The pieces were very small and the difficulty very high as the flowers all looked very similar, but the boy liked it that way. He loved puzzles, the more complicated and vexing the better. He spun a piece in his pale fingers, turning it to see if it fit into a particular gap he needed to fill. Despairing, he dropped it onto the tabletop and picked up another piece.
    A soft chime sounded. The boy looked up, blue eyes questioning. “Yes, George?”
    â€œThe knife, Majesty. It has been activated.”

    The King of Switzerland smiled. “So,” he said softly. “It is finally beginning.” He looked down at the puzzle and laughed. “Aha!” He placed the piece he was holding into a gap, completing a poppy’s red petal. “Excellent.” He reached for another piece.

Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet
    The wind pushed drifts of snow over the ruined helicopter, spilling in through the shattered windshield and pooling around the feet of the two inert agents. Already the hollows of their faces were etched in lines of white where flakes had gathered. The only sound was the high keening of the wind singing in the ruins of the town. The fires had burned themselves out, leaving a patchwork of charred foundations and blackened beams. The helicopter had crashed in the centre of the square in front of the cheese factory and so had escaped the fire. The craft sat like a black wounded beetle, lying tilted to one side.
    Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet lay strapped into their seats. Their heads were thrown back. Their mouths were open. Their sightless goggles reflected the pale dawn light. The grey pallor of their skin added to the overall impression of death. For two days and two nights they had lain, still and silent as the snow shrouded them.
    At noon on the third day the sun finally broke through the heavy cloud, casting a watery white glare on the ruined town. A shaft of sunlight crawled across Mr. Sweet’s face and alighted on the black surface of his goggles.
    The glass of the goggles absorbed the faint trickle of solar energy. And with that, Mr. Sweet’s right hand twitched.The fingers spread and then clenched like a spider waking up from a deep sleep. Tremors passed through the agent’s body. His muscles flexed and tensed painfully. Finally, he lifted his head and spat snow from his mouth in agonized, wheezing coughs. With great effort he tipped himself